"I can't always hang to your apron," said Karl; "and if you were to earn a thousand dollars, would that make an active, useful man of me? Or, if I were to lose you, what would become of me?"
"You will lose me, boy," said the giant, nodding, "in a few years, perhaps, and then you may become what you like, so it be not a porter."
"But why should I not be what you are? Do not be unreasonable."
"You know nothing about the matter. Do not be covetous; I can not bear covetous people."
"But, father, if I am not to be a porter, I must learn something," cried Karl.
"Learn!" exclaimed his father; "how much learning have you not had stuffed into your little head already! Two years at the infant school, four at the city school, two at the industrial. Why, you have had eight years' schooling, and you know the different goods as well as a clerk. Why, you are an insatiable youth."
"Yes; but I must have a calling," replied Karl. "I must be a shoemaker, tailor, shopkeeper, or mechanic."
"Don't tease yourself about that," said his father; "I have provided for all that in your education. You are practical and honorable too."
"Yes; but can I make a pair of boots? can I cut out a coat?"
"You can," replied old Sturm; "try, and you'll succeed."