“How much do you think I have made?” continued Paul.
“So between us we have earned over twelve dollars.”
“I wish I could earn something,” said little Jimmy, looking up from his drawing.
“There's time enough for that, Jimmy. You are going to be a great artist one of these days.”
“Do you really think I shall?” asked the little boy, wistfully.
“I think there is a good chance of it. Let me see what you are drawing.”
The picture upon which Jimmy was at work represented a farmer standing upright in a cart, drawn by a sturdy, large-framed horse. The copy bore a close resemblance to the original, even in the most difficult portions--the face and expression, both in the man and the horse, being carefully reproduced.
“This is wonderful, Jimmy,” exclaimed Paul, in real surprise. “Didn't you find it hard to get the man's face just right?”
“Rather hard,” said Jimmy; “I had to be careful, but I like best the parts where I have to take the most pains.”
“I wish I could afford to hire a teacher for you,” said Paul. “Perhaps, if mother and I keep on earning so much money, we shall be able to some time.”
By the middle of the next week six of the shirts were finished, and Paul, as had been agreed upon, carried them up to Mr. Preston. He was fortunate enough to find him at home.
“I can see that the sewing is excellent,” said Mr. Preston, examining them. “As to the fit, I can tell better after I have tried one on.”
“Mother made them just like the one you sent; but if there is anything wrong, she will, of course, be ready to alter them.”
“If they are just like the pattern, they will be sure to suit me.”
“And now, my young friend,” he added, “let me know how you are getting on in your own business.”
“I am making a dollar a day, sometimes a little more.”
“I believe you told me that the stand belonged to some one else.”
“Yes, sir; I am only tending it in his sickness; but he is getting better, and when he gets about again, I shall be thrown out of business.”
“But you don't look like one who would remain idle long.”
“No, sir; I shall be certain to find something to do, if it is only blacking boots.”
“I've tried about everything,” said Paul, laughing.
“I suppose you wouldn't enjoy boot-blacking much?”
“No, sir; but I would rather do that than be earning nothing.”