In which a dirty little boy becomes a clean little boy and feels much better for it.

Tom was a poor little orphan. He had no father to buy good clothes for him and no kind mother to wash and bathe him. There was no one to look after him, and kiss him good-night when he went to bed. He lived with a very old woman who let him grow up, dirtier and dirtier every day.

Poor little Tom! He had no toys; he had no ball nor marbles, nor kites; he had no knife, no pets—not even a little dog—and nobody came to play with him. Everybody called him “Dirty Tom,” but it was not his fault.

One spring morning Tom sat on the doorsteps listening to the birds singing in the trees, watching the flowers growing by the wayside, and the little children going by on their way to school. Nobody spoke to him. Every one just said: “That’s Dirty Tom.”

By and by a lady came along and spoke to Tom. She asked him his name and Tom said: “They call me ‘Dirty Tom,’ but my name is Thomas, for I heard a man say so.”

The lady said: “Very well, Thomas, would you like to go to Sunday School if the Brownie brought you a suit of pretty clothes?”

Tom thought awhile, and then said: “The Brownies never bring me anything. I am too dirty.” But the lady insisted that they might, and Tom promised to go to Sunday School if the clothes came. He really did want the clothes and then he wanted to see what Sunday School was. You never can tell what even a dirty looking boy would like to have and to do. Tom liked nice things as much as anybody.

All that week Tom wondered what would happen. Sunday morning came, and Tom ran to the front porch and found a bundle of clothes just as pretty and clean as could be. There was a note tied to it which read: “Here are the new clothes, but you must scrub and scrub before you put them on,” and the note was signed “Brownie.”

Tom got a tub and a cloth and scrubbed himself from head to foot. He washed until all the dirt was gone. Then he put on his new clothes and showed himself to the old woman.

“Why, Dirty Tom, you look like an angel,” she said.

Tom went to Sunday School and walked up the aisle. Nobody recognized him. At last the lady came and took him by the hand and said: “Why, here is Thomas come to our Sunday School. We shall all have to call him ‘Clean Tommie’ hereafter.” And so they did, for he was Dirty Tom no more.