If he "only had a collar," he said to himself,--"a smooth white collar,
to turn down over the worn-out edges,--it would make things look _so_
much better." But that was something he had never had in his life, and he
put on the old ragged brown jacket with a sigh. Then he put on his shoes,
and took them off again: the question was, which looked the best,--shoes
which showed every one of his toes peeping out on the top, or no shoes at
all? Suddenly a bright idea struck him: if his feet were only white and
clean, he thought they would certainly look much better. Down he went to
the rickety pump in the back yard, and face, hands, and feet took such a
washing as they had never received before; then the old comb had to do
duty. Tip had never had such a time getting dressed; but, some way, he
felt a great longing this morning to make himself look neatly; he had a
feeling that it was ever so much more respectable to be neat and clean
than it was to go looking as he had always done. Still, to carry a
freshly-washed face and hands and smooth hair was the very best he could
do; and, if he had but known it, these things made a great improvement.
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