"How will you carry them?
Here, I will string 'em for you." Tommy was all energy now, and thrust his hands down into the depths of his pockets in search of a piece of twine.

Those repositories of small stores did not contain a string, however; but mixed up with a piece of cord, a slate pencil, an iron hinge, two marbles, a brass ring, and six inches of stovepipe chain, were two cents, which the owner thereof carefully picked out of the heap of miscellaneous articles and thrust them into the hand of Katy.
"Here, take them; and as you go by the grocery at the corner of the court, buy a two-cent roll," whispered he.

"Got a bit o' string, Johnny ?" he added aloud, as Katy began to protest against taking the money.
"Hain't got none; but I'll give you a piece of my fish line, if you want," replied the bully, who was now unusually obliging.
"There's a piece of spunyarn, that's just the thing I want;" and Tommy ran half way up the pier to the bridge, picked up the line, and commenced stringing the flounders on it.
"I don't want them all, Tommy; only give me two or three.

I never shall forget you, Tommy," said Katy, her eyes suffused with tears of gratitude.
"I'm sorry things go so bad with you, Katy, and I wish I could do something more for you." "I don't want anything more.

Don't put any more on the string.