"I wish my mother had a ring like those the ladies wear at the hotel," said Hiram Green to himself one day. Hiram was the son of a fisherman, but the fisherman had died when Hiram was a little boy. Hiram's mother took on sewing work to earn money to support herself and her son. He helped her when he could re out of school hours, and during vacation time. He had two uncles who had taught him how to catch shrimps. With the money he earned by selling them he could buy things for his own use or pleasure. He had a "bank" almost full of what he called his "shrimp money."
The sight of the flashing diamonds on the hands of some of the summer visitors at the fishing village in which he lived had added a new article to the list of beautiful things his mother would own someday. He had heard that just one single diamond was sometimes worth five hundred dollars or more. This had discouraged him very much.
But one day, he happened to pass a shop in the neighboring town and saw a number of diamond rings displayed in the window. He stopped fascinated, and pressed his face against the glass eagerly to see if any prices were marked upon them. Imagine his surprise when he saw upon the largest one a tag marked $4.75. He looked again to see if he had made a mistake. Perhaps it was $475. But no, he knew enough about figures to see that he was right the first time.
He went home as fast as he could, and ran up into his bedroom. Then, he opened his "bank" and counted its contents. "Three dollars and twenty-two cents!" he cried. "I'll have that ring before another week." Hiram worked early and late for the next few days. He caught more shrimps than he had ever caught in the same length of time, and sold them readily.
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At the end of the week he had the sum he desired.
……
Years after, Hiram learned what he had bought was in fact only glass, and he decided to tell his mother.
