This he carried home.
He shut himself up in a small basement room.
His tools were poor.
He made better ones.
No wire could be bought in Savannah.
So he made his own wire.
Mrs. Greene and a Mr. Miller were the only persons allowed to come into his work-shop.
Day after day the children wondered to hear the queer clinking and hammering.
They laughed at Mr. Whitney.
But that did not trouble him.