Tip lingered in the kitchen on Sabbath morning. 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. Kitty came out to the door, and pumped her pan full of water. He looked down on her. There was Kitty; had he anything which he could give her? He shook his head mournfully; not a thing. But wouldn't it be the same if he could help her to get something? What if he could coax her to go to Sunday school; perhaps it would do for her all that it had done for him. And at this moment the unwearied Satan came with his wicked thoughts. "Kitty would be a pretty-looking object to go to Sabbath school,--not a decent thing to wear! Everybody would laugh at her and at you. Besides, I don't believe she would go, if you _did_ ask her; she would only make fun of you. Better not try it." "Oh, Tip Lewis," said his conscience, "what a miserable coward you are! After all you have promised, you won't risk a laugh for the sake of getting Kitty into the Sabbath school!" "Yes, I will," said Tip, and he ran downstairs. And this was why he lingered in the kitchen,--not knowing just what to say. Kitty helped him. "Tip," said she, "I suppose they sing over at that Sunday school, don't they?" "I guess they do;" and Tip's eyes brightened. "Ever so many of them sing at once, and it sounds grand, I tell you. They play the melodeon, too: don't you want to go and hear it?" "Humph! I don't know. I don't suppose it will be any stupider than staying at home. I get awful sick of that. If I knew the way, maybe I would go." "Oh, I'll take you!" said Tip, in a quick, eager way. He wanted to speak before his courage failed. So Kitty, in her stiff blue sunbonnet and green calico dress, went to Sabbath school. There was no mission class for girls, so Mr. Parker sent her among the gaily-dressed little girls in Miss Haley's class; but Mr. Holbrook detained Tip. "Edward, you intend to come to Sabbath school regularly, don't you?" "Yes, sir." "Then I think we must leave your place in the mission seat to be filled by some other boy, and you may come forward to my class."