"Perhaps you will," said Kit to himself, "but I think it doubtful." Kit's room was a small back one on the second floor. The front apartment was occupied by Mr. and Mrs. Bickford, and there was one of the same size which was used as a spare chamber. Kit's room was supplied with a cot bed, and was furnished in the plainest manner. One thing he missed. He saw no washstand. "Where am I to wash in the morning?" he asked. "You can wash in the tin basin in the kitchen," answered Mrs. Bickford. "There's a bar of soap down there and a roller towel, so I guess you won't have to go dirty." Kit shuddered at the suggestion. He had seen bars of yellow soap in the grocery at home, and didn't think he should enjoy its use. Nor did he fancy using the same towel with the blacksmith and his wife. He had seen the roller towel hanging beside the sink, and judged from its appearance that it had already been used nearly a week. "I have been accustomed to wash in my own room," he ventured to say. "You've been used to a great many things that you won't find here," replied Mrs. Bickford, grimly. Kit thought it extremely likely. "If you can't do as the rest of us do, you can get along without washing," continued the lady. "I will try and manage," answered Kit, bearing in mind that he expected to leave the Bickford mansion forever the next morning. "That new boy of yours is kind of uppish," remarked Mrs. Bickford, when she returned to the sitting room. "What's the matter now?" "He wants to wash in his own room. He's too fine a gentleman to wash in the kitchen." "What did you tell him?" Mrs. Bickford repeated her remark. "Good for you, mother! We'll take down his pride a little." "Is he goin' to work in them fine clo'es he brought with him?" "He didn't bring any others." "He'll spile 'em, and not have anything to wear to meetin'." "Haven't we got a pair of overalls in the house--one that the last boy used?" "Yes; I'll get 'em right away." "They'll be good for him to wear." Before Kit got into bed, the door of his chamber was unceremoniously opened, and Mrs. Bickford walked in, carrying a faded pair of overalls. "You can put these on in the mornin'," she said. "They'll keep your clo'es clean. They may be a mite long for you, but you can turn up the legs at the bottom." She left the room without waiting for an answer. Kit surveyed the overalls with amusement. "I wonder how I should look in them," he said to himself. He drew them over his trousers, and regarded his figure as well as he could in the little seven by nine glass that hung on the wall. "There is Kit, the young blacksmith!" he said with a smile. "On the whole, I don't think it improves my appearance. I'll take them off, and leave them for the next boy." "What did the boy say, mother?" asked Mr. Bickford, upon his wife's return. "He just took 'em; he didn't say anything."