Rob doesn't need new pants because his mother can mend them.
“Where are your trousers, Rob?” said Aunt Carrie, who took quite a stock in appearances.
“Up on the ridge. When I tied ‘em round a tree they got busted some. I’m sorry, Mama. You’ll just have to cut me out another pair.”
Mama put her face right down close to mine, and I could smell her goodness. “I’m preferenced to mend busted pants than a busted boy.”
A Day No Pigs Would Die