After a little delay, the doorkeeper was instructed to bring him in.
James was nineteen at this time. He was no longer as homespun in appearance as when he sat upon a log with Dr. Robinson, in the seclusion of the woods, and asked his advice about a career. Nevertheless, he was still awkward. He had grown rapidly, was of slender build, and had no advantages of dress to recommend him. One who saw him in after-life, with his noble, imposing presence, would hardly recognize any similarity between him and the raw country youth who stood awkwardly before the Board of Trustees, to plead his cause. It happens not unfrequently that a lanky youth develops into a fine-looking man. Charles Sumner, at the age of twenty, stood six feet two inches in his stockings, and weighed but one hundred and twenty pounds! Yet in after-life he was a man of noble presence.
But all this while we are leaving James in suspense before the men whose decision is to affect his life so powerfully.
"Well, young man," asked the Principal, "what can we do for you?"
"Gentlemen," said James, earnestly, "I want an education, and would like the privilege of making the fires and sweeping the floors of the building to pay part of my expenses."
There was in his bearing and countenance an earnestness and an intelligence which impressed the members of the board.
"Gentlemen," said Mr. Frederic Williams, one of the trustees, "I think we had better try this young man."
Another member, turning to Garfield, said: "How do we know, young man, that the work will be done as we may desire?"
"Try me," was the answer; "try me two weeks, and if it is not done to your entire satisfaction, I will retire without a word."
"That seems satisfactory," said the member who had asked the question.