"We was afraid you'd laugh at us, Uncle Seth, and so we didn't like to tell you."
"Laugh at you! I praise you: you've done wonderful. Now let me see you make a pot."
Sammy had turned one pot, and, drawing a string under it, took it from the wheel with his hands; in so doing, he put it a little out of form, but repaired it by pressing it into shape again with his fingers.
Sammy turned two more pots, each one being an improvement on the former one; being put on his mettle by the praises of Uncle Seth.
He then told him that Archie's contract was completed, but that Scip was going to help him in the afternoon.
"What made you put your large wheel flat on the floor? why didn't you set it on the legs?"
"'Cause it wouldn't go so: the band would slip right off the little wheel."
"Cross the band, then it won't."
"Cross the band!"
This was a step farther than Sammy's knowledge of machinery extended.