"May I? May I?" and Pip ended up with a glad little crow.
"Hush! You'll wake Jasper," warned Ben. "Yes, and I'll sharpen you up a nice new point on my best pencil, and you shall make a try. There, this is almost done." He put in a few more strokes, and held it off to examine with a critical eye, "All except a bit of shading in those trees,—there, now it's all right," and he laid the sketch in Pip's hands.
"I'm going to draw just like that," declared Pip, with the utmost confidence, devouring the picture with his eyes.
"Oh, you'll draw one better than that, sometime," said Ben, laughing, as he whittled away on his best pencil. "Now then, that is a point for you," and he held it up in satisfaction.
Pip seized the pencil, and made some quick, jerky strokes that snapped the beautiful point quite off.
"O dear, dear!" he exclaimed, ready to cry.
"Never mind, we'll soon have another point on, just as good," said Ben, reassuringly, opening his knife. "Now then, Pip, I'll begin your lesson," holding up the pencil; "here you are, all ready."
"I want to draw a picture first, just as you did," said Pip, with an eager hand for the pencil.
"You can't," said Ben, sturdily, "not the first go. You must learn how, Pip."
"Let me try, do," begged Pip, earnestly, and his thin little face twitched.