He looked neat and clean; he had a fresh, clean shirt, thanks to the washing which his mother had done "towards night." He was all ready for school, yet he waited.
Kitty clattered around, making rather more noise even than usual, as she washed up the few poor dishes.
Evidently Tip was thinking about her.

The truth was, his lamp had shown him a lesson that morning like this: "Freely ye have received, freely give." He stopped at that verse, reading no further.

What did it mean I Surely it spoke to him.

Had not God given, oh, _so_ many things to him?
Had He not promised to give him heaven for his home?
Now, here was the direction: "Freely give." What, and to whom?
To God?
Surely not.

Tip was certain that he had nothing to give to God; nothing but his poor, sinful heart, which he believed the Saviour had taken and made clean.
What could he give to any one?
He leaned out of his little window, busy with this thought.