Then he got together his small belongings--an old campaign hat, a pair of boots, a tin of tobacco, and a pinchbeck bracelet which he had found one Sunday in the Park, and which he believed to be valuable.

He stripped his blanket from his bed and rolled up in it all these objects, together with the canvas sack, fastening the roll with a half hitch such as miners use, the instincts of the old-time car-boy coming back to him in his present confusion of mind.

He changed his pipe and his knife--a huge jackknife with a yellowed bone handle--to the pockets of his overalls.
Then at last he stood with his hand on the door, holding up the lamp before blowing it out, looking about to make sure he was ready to go.
The wavering light woke his canary.

It stirred and began to chitter feebly, very sleepy and cross at being awakened.

McTeague started, staring at it, and reflecting.