“A gross is twelve dozen, hain’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Ten gross would be a thousand and four hundred and forty. Jingoes! That’s a lot of tables, mister.”
“Did you make this model?”
“No, sir. Dad he jest whittled it out because he pinched his fingers on a foldin’-table he bought. Done it just to show that there could be a better table. He’s always doin’ that. He’s whittled out lots of things. Made a game for us that’s a dandy, and he’s fixed up a step-ladder that folds into a kitchen chair, and a dingus for hangin’ up brooms, and about forty other things. He’s always whittlin’.”
“That’s interesting. I’d like to see some of those other things. Patent any of them?”
“Not a one.”
“Well, you bundle up what you can find and send them to me by express. I guess you can trust me, can’t you?”
“Yes, sir,” says Catty.
“Thank you. It’s a good thing in business to be willing to trust men, but it is better to know which ones to trust.”