“That’s what Uncle John was making the day that I went to watch him; he made some of the knives.”
“Here they are,” said Mr. Prescott, “where they were made to go. I think, myself, that this is rather an interesting machine. They put the corn in at one end, and it comes out in cans at the other, and nobody touches it.”
“It’s wonderful,” said Billy, going over once more to look at the parts of a lathe that were assembled, ready to be put together, “how all the parts fit, when so many different people make them.”
“If every man in this world would do his work as faithfully as our men do, things in the world would fit together much better than they do,” said Mr. Prescott.
That sounded like Uncle John. It was the first time that Billy had thought that Mr. Prescott and Uncle John were a little alike.
A moment later, Mr. Prescott pushed back a sliding door, and they both went into the new part of the mill.
“This,” said Mr. Prescott, “is to be the new assembly room. We have needed it for a long time. I shall be glad when it is done.”
Then he turned so suddenly that he almost ran into Billy.
“Any questions, William?” he asked.
Billy’s face must have given his answer again, for Mr. Prescott pushed an empty box toward Billy.