Is that what you're after?
You come up to my house to-night at dark, and see if you can find it there.

We are going to have fireworks, and songs, and all the fun we can." Tip was not by any means a bashful boy, and it took a great deal to astonish him; but this sudden invitation almost took his breath away.

The idea that Mr.Minturn had actually invited _him_, Tip Lewis, to come to the white house!--to come near to that wonderful fountain, near enough perhaps to feel the dash of its spray! He could have danced for joy; yet, when Mr.Minturn said, "Well, will you come ?" for the first time in his life he was known to stammer and hesitate.
"I--I don't--know.

I haven't got any clothes." "Clothes!" repeated Mr.Minturn; "what do you call those things which you have on ?" "I call 'em _rags_, sir," answered Tip, his embarrassment gone, and the mischief twinkling back into his face again.
Mr.Minturn laughed, and looked down on the torn jacket and pants.
"Not a bad name," he said at last.

"But you've got water at your house, haven't you ?" "Lots of it." "Then put your head into a tub of it, and a clean face up to my house to-night, and we'll try and find that fun you're looking for." And Mr.Minturn, who had spent a great deal of time for him, was passing on.