There was not much room to move, but Johannes, as he smiled in his big, solemn way, managed to take hold of the boy’s arm, and gave the biceps a firm grip.
“Shut your hand tight and double up your arm,” he said; and Steve obeyed. “Good; that will do. Now take hold of mine.”
He imitated the boy’s action, and Steve imitated his, taking hold of a huge mass of muscle that stood right out like a partially compressed ball.
Steve coloured a little at the man’s quiet way of showing him the tremendous difference between them in the point of force.
“Well,” said Johannes, smiling, “do you still think that you would like to try?”
“Yes. I know I’m only a boy, and can’t pretend to have a man’s strength; but I should like to try. Don’t laugh at me, please.”
“No, I was only smiling, my lad. Why should I laugh at one who is young because he wishes to try to be brave and manly and shows a desire to learn?”
“Oh, thank you!” cried Steve eagerly; “that is what I do feel, but people are so ready to banter and laugh at me.”
“It is foolish of them,” said Johannes, “unless it is when a boy is what you call conceited and self-satisfied, and thinks that he is a man too soon.”
“I don’t do that, indeed!” cried Steve.