“Did you do it all yourself? How big was it?”
“About twelve by eight. I did it all myself, usually after school or in the morning. It—it wasn’t much.”
“Ever do any drawing?”
“I’ve tried to.”
“Like good pictures, handsome buildings, statuary—such things?”
“Yes, sir, very much.”
“Still you don’t think you’d care to create them, eh?”
“Indeed I would, Mr. York, but I don’t believe I ever could. I’d like to build a real house some time, though. You wouldn’t have to know so much to do that, would you?”
Mr. York laughed and Mr. Hall smiled sympathetically. “Why, yes, Sam, in order to build a house you’ve got to know quite a bit. Look here, why don’t you think it over and decide whether you’d like to be an architect? If you would, you can start your college course with that end in view; and in the summers there’s a place in our office you can have. The wages wouldn’t be large, but you’d learn the business and if you made good I guess we’d be glad to give you a real job. You’d have to work hard, though, and study like the dickens. What do you think about it?”