The little woman regarded him proudly. But all she said was: "When you're doin' well, Pat, the thing is to see if you can't do better. You had others a-buyin' of you to-day, I hope?"
"Yes, mother."
"'Tis too late to hear about it to-night, for 'tis good sleep that sharpens the wits. And the broightest wits will bear that koind of sharpening', so they will. I wouldn't be knowin' what to do half the time if it wasn't for sleepin' good of nights. And, by the same token, if any of them high-steppin' clerks comes around with a cigar and a-wantin' you to go here and yon of nights, jist remimber that your wits is your stock in trade, and Mr. Farnham's not wantin' dull wans about him, nayther."
Thus having headed off any designs that might be had upon Pat, his mother went to sharpen her own wits for whatever the morrow might have in store for her.
And now a change began to come over Jim. He left his younger brothers in unhectored peace. He had not much to say, but ever he watched Andy from the corner of a jealous eye, and listened for him to speak. All his pugnacity was engaged in what seemed to be a profitless struggle with the speech of the grammar. "I will larn it yet," he repeated over and over. And even while the words were in his mouth, if he had had less obstinacy in his make-up, he would have yielded himself to despair. But a good thing happened to him. Miss Slocum, not knowing his ignoble motive, and seeing a very earnest child striving to improve himself, set about helping him in every possible way.
One day she called him to her. "Jim," she said, "asking me questions is slow work. Suppose I correct you every time you make a mistake?"
"Yes, ma'am," answered Jim vaguely, not knowing the meaning of correct.
"You don't understand me?"
"No, ma'am."
"Correct means to make right. Suppose I set you right whenever you go wrong?"