Michael had chosen paper of the color of the sunshine, for the court was dark and the alley was dark and the room was dark. The souls of the people too were dark. They must have light and brightness if he would win them to better things. Besides, the paper was only five cents a roll, the cheapest he could find in the city. Michael had learned at college during vacations how to put it on. He made Sam wash and wash and wash his hands before he was allowed to handle any of the delicate paper.
“De paper’ll jest git dirty right away,” grumbled Sam sullenly, albeit he washed his hands, and his eyes glowed as they used to when a child at a rare “find” in the gutter.
“Wot’ll you do when it gits dirty?” demanded Sam belligerently.
“Put on some clean,” said Michael sunnily. “Besides, we must learn to have clean hands and keep it clean.”
“I wish we had some curtains,” said Michael wistfully. “They had thin white curtains at college.”
“Are you makin’ a college fer we?” asked Sam looking at him sharply.
“Well, in a way, perhaps,” said Michael smiling. “You know I want you to have all the advantages I had as far as I can get them.”
Sam only whistled and looked perplexed but he was doing more serious thinking than he had ever done in his life before.
And so the two had worked, and planned, and now tonight, the work was about finished.
The walls reflected the yellow of the sunshine, the woodwork was painted white enamel. Michael had, just put on the last gleaming coat.