“Of blanks! No,” said Oliver, with a changed countenance; “I never thought of the blanks.”
“And yet in most lotteries there are many more blanks than prizes, you know.”
“Are there? Well, but I hope I shall not have a blank,” said Oliver.
“So every body hopes, but some people must be disappointed.”
“Yes,” said the little boy, pausing—“but then some people must win, and I have as good a chance as another, have not I?”
“And do you know what the chance against your winning is? Once I had a great mind, as you have now, Oliver, to put into a lottery. It was just after my aunt lost all her fortune, and I thought that if I were to get the twenty thousand pound prize, I could give it to her.”
“I’ll give my watch (if I get it, I mean) to somebody. I’ll give it to the mulatto woman, because she is poor. No; I’ll give it to you, because you are the best, and I love you the best, and I am more obliged to you than to any body in the world, for you have taught me more; and you have taught me as I was never taught before, without laughing at, or scolding, or frightening, or calling me blockhead or dunce; and you have made me think a great deal better of myself; and I am always happy when I’m with you; and I’m quite another creature since you came to school. I hope you’ll never leave school whilst I am here,” cried Oliver.
“But you have quite forgot the lottery,” said Howard, smiling, and much touched by his little friend’s simplicity and enthusiasm.
“Oh, the lottery! ay,” said Oliver, “you were telling me something about yourself; do go on.”
“I once thought, as you do now, that it would be a charming thing to put into a lottery.”