They gave Andy as a present an old-fashioned silver watch, about the size and shape of a turnip.

Andy was glad to get it, old-fashioned as it was, and he thanked them warmly.
The day afterward he was walking slowly along the village street, when he came upon Godfrey Preston strutting along, with an air of importance.

He and his mother had removed to Boston, but they were visiting the town on a little business.
"Hello, there!" said Godfrey, halting.
"Hello!" said Andy.
"You've lost your place, haven't you ?" asked Godfrey, with a sneer.
"Yes." "How are you going to live ?" "By eating, I expect," answered Andy, shortly.
"If you can get anything to eat, you mean ?" "We got enough so far." "Perhaps you won't have, long.

You may have to go to the poorhouse." "When I do, I shall find you there." "What do you mean ?" demanded Godfrey, angrily.
"I mean I shan't go there till you do." "You're proud for a beggar." "I'm more of a gentleman than you are." "I'd thrash you, only I won't demean myself by doing it." "That's lucky, or you might get thrashed yourself." "You're only an Irish boy." "I'm proud of that same.

You won't find me go back on my country." Godfrey walked away.