“What a horrid place it is!” said Hal, sighing; “I did not know there were such shocking places in the world. I’ve often seen terrible-looking, tumble-down places, as we drove through the town in mamma’s carriage; but then I did not know who lived in them; and I never saw the inside of any of them. It is very dreadful, indeed, to think that people are forced to live in this way. I wish mamma would send me some more pocket-money, that I might do something for them. I had half a crown; but,” continued he, feeling in his pockets, “I’m afraid I spent the last shilling of it this morning upon those cakes that made me sick. I wish I had my shilling now, I’d give it to _these poor people_.” Ben, though he was all this time silent, was as sorry as his talkative cousin for all these poor people. But there was some difference between the sorrow of these two boys. Hal, after he was again seated in the hackney-coach, and had rattled through the busy streets of Bristol, for a few minutes quite forgot the spectacle of misery which he had seen; and the gay shops in Wine Street and the idea of his green and white uniform wholly occupied his imagination. “Now for our uniforms!” cried he, as he jumped eagerly out of the coach, when his uncle stopped at the woollen-draper’s door. “Uncle,” said Ben, stopping Mr. Gresham before he got out of the carriage, “I don’t think a uniform is at all necessary for me. I’m very much obliged to you; but I would rather not have one. I have a very good coat, and I think it would be waste.” “Well, let me get out of the carriage, and we will see about it,” said Mr. Gresham; “perhaps the sight of the beautiful green and white cloth, and the epaulettes (have you ever considered the epaulettes?) may tempt you to change your mind.” “Oh, no,” said Ben, laughing; “I shall not change my mind,” The green cloth, and the white cloth, and the epaulettes were produced, to Hal’s infinite satisfaction. His uncle took up a pen, and calculated for a few minutes; then, showing the back of the letter, upon which he was writing, to his nephews, “Cast up these sums, boys,” said he, “and tell me whether I am right.” “Ben, do you do it,” said Hal, a little embarrassed; “I am not quick at figures.” Ben _was_, and he went over his uncle’s calculation very expeditiously. “It is right, is it?” said Mr. Gresham. “Yes, sir, quite right.” “Then, by this calculation, I find I could, for less than half the money your uniforms would cost, purchase for each of you boys a warm great-coat, which you will want, I have a notion, this winter upon the Downs.” “Oh, sir,” said Hal, with an alarmed look; “but it is not winter _yet_; it is not cold weather _yet_. We sha’n’t want greatcoats _yet_.” “Don’t you remember how cold we were, Hal, the day before yesterday, in that sharp wind, when we were flying our kite upon the Downs? and winter will come, though it is not come yet—I am sure, I should like to have a good warm great-coat very much.”