Poor James's heart sunk in his bosom at this unexpected obstacle thrown in his way. He had no money of his own to buy one, and knew of no one from whom he could borrow the book that had all at once become necessary to his happiness.
"Do, Harman," he said, appealingly; "lend me the book. Indeed I will take good care of it."
"No; I won't. And don't you dare to touch it!" was the angry reply.
James Wallace knew well enough the selfish disposition of his master's son—older than he by two or three years—to be convinced that there was now but little hope of his having the use of his books, except by stealth; and from that his open and honest principle revolted. All day he thought earnestly over the means whereby he should be able to obtain a book on astronomy, to quench the ardent thirst that had been created in his mind; and night came without any clear answer being obtained to the earnest inquiries of his own thought.
He was learning the trade of a blind-maker. Having been already at the business for two years, and been industrious and intelligent, he had acquired a readiness with tools and much skill in some parts of his trade. While sitting alone, after he had finished his work for the day, his mind searching about for some means whereby he could get books, it occurred to him that he might, by working in the evening, earn some money, and with it buy such as he wanted. But in what manner to turn his work into money, he knew not. It finally occurred to him that, in passing a house near the shop, he frequently observed a pair of window-blinds with faded colours.
"Perhaps," he said to himself, "if I would do it cheap, they would let me paint and put new hangings to their blinds."
The thought was scarcely suggested, when he was on his feet, moving towards the street. In a few minutes he stood knocking at the door of the house, which was soon opened.
"Well, my little man, what do you want?" was the kind salutation of the individual who answered the knock.
James felt confused, and stammered out,—