Kit¹ was already feeling sleepy, and made no objection. Though it was yet early, he had found it hard work to get through the evening, as he could find nothing to read except a weekly paper, three months old, and a copy of "Pilgrim's Progress." In truth, neither Mr. Bickford nor his wife were of a literary turn, and did not even manage to keep up with the news of the day.

 

"I am ready," said Kit.

 

"Mother, show him to his room," added the blacksmith. "To-morrow I'll give him a lesson at the forge."

 

"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 chamber².

 

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,"[Pg 51] 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 shuddered³ 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

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