ll it foolishness," he said, aloud, talking, of course, to himself,
for there was no one else in the comfortable room, the window of which
opened out upon the most quaint garden ever seen. "It's all right to
save up your money in a box and keep on dropping it through a slit; but
how about getting it out? Here, I'll go and smash the stupid old thing
up directly on the block in the wood-shed."

But instead of carrying out his threat, he leaned forward, picked up the
curved round-ended table-knife he had dashed down, seized the money-box
again, shook it with jingling effect, held it upside down above his
eyes, and began to operate with the knife-blade through the narrow slit
in the centre of the lid.

For a good quarter of an hour by the big old eight-day clock in the
corner did the boy work away, shaking the box till some coin or another
was over the slit, and then operating with the knife-blade, trying and
trying to get the piece of money up on edge so that it would drop
through; and again and again, as the reward of his indefatigable
perseverance, nearly succeeding, but never quite. For so sure as he
pushed it up or tilted it down, the coin made a dash and glided away,
making the drops of perspiration start out on the boy's forehead, and
forcing him into a struggle with his temper which resulted in his
gaining the victory again, till that thin old half-crown was coaxed well
into sight and forced flat against the knife-blade. The boy then began
to manipulate the knife with extreme caution as he kept on making a soft
purring noise, _ah-h-h-h-ha_! full of triumphant satisfaction, while a
big curled-up tabby tom-cat, which had taken possession of the fellow
chair to that occupied by Aleck, twitched one ear, opened one eye, and
then seeing that the purring sound was only a feeble imitation, went off
to sleep again.

"Got you at last!" muttered the lad. "Half a crown; just buy all I
want, and--bother!" he yelled, and, raising the box on high with both
hands, he dashed it down upon the slate hearth with all his might.

Temper had won this time. Aleck had suffered a disastrous defeat, and
he sat there with his forehead puckered up, staring at the cat, which at
the crash and its accompanying yell made one bound that carried it on to
the sideboard, where with glowing eyes, flattened ears, arched back, and
bottle-brush tail, it stood staring at the disturber of its rest.

"Well, I am a pretty fool," muttered Aleck, start