This was new work for her, but her father was very pale to-day, and those sadly-spoken words, "and never shall, I guess," had quieted her; so she made no answer, but drew out one of the collars.

It looked nice and white, and shone, too.

Mrs.Lewis had done it up late one night, with tears in her eyes, because she could not hope that it would be worn again.
"What are you doing with that ?" she asked sharply, as Kitty appeared from the bedroom.
"Father wants Tip to wear it," answered Kitty.
"I'll lend it to him," spoke the sick man; "we want him to look as decent as we can to-day, you know." Mrs.Lewis said no more, but it seemed to her like giving up one more hope of her husband's life.
Tip came down from the garret, with neatly-brushed hair, and dressed in his clean shirt, nicely mended jacket, and the shiny collar.

It was wonderful what a difference that collar made; he didn't look like the same boy.
"Kitty," he said, his face all aglow with pleasure, "where _did_ I get a collar ?" "It's father's; he said wear it," answered Kitty.
"And how did it get on my jacket ?" "Jumped on, likely." Kitty spoke in a short, half provoked tone; she was so unused to doing a kind thing, that she really felt half ashamed of it.
"Well," said Tip, smiling all over his face, "if that's so, it's the best jump it ever took, and I thank it from the bottom of my heart." Then he carried his bright, good-natured face out of the little house in the hollow, and went towards the great house on the hill..