Then mother took the blue suit, wrapped it up carefully and putting it in my hands told me to take it back to Miss Foraker.
"You don't understand, James," she said.

"But these clothes are not for people like us.

These are to be given to the poor." I have often smiled as I looked back on it.

I'll bet there wasn't a dime in the house.

The patches on my best pants were three deep and if laid side by side would have covered more territory than the new blue suit.
To take those clothes back was the bitterest sacrifice my heart has ever known.
A few days later there was a fire sale by one of the merchants, and I got the job of ringing the auction bell.