"Did he tell you how much he gave for the mouse-house?"
"Six dollars; and he said you had orders for two more at the same price. How lucky you are, Leo!"
"So I am; but I was almost discouraged before I found a single purchaser. If it hadn't been make or break with me, I should have given up, and come home. I feel good now, Maggie, I can tell you! If the market for white mice holds good, I shall make my fortune."
"I hope it will hold good, at least till father gets well. He was so delighted when he heard of your success!"
"I shall finish the two houses ordered this week, if I can, and that will make eighteen dollars—not in a week, but in three days."
"Twenty, Leo," added Maggie, with a smile.
"Twenty? Three times six are eighteen," laughed Leo.
"I made two dollars to-day by translating a letter for Mr. Checkynshaw; and he has more such work for me to do."
"How lucky we are!" exclaimed Leo; and he had not lived long enough, or seen enough of the world, to realize that the lucky ones are almost always those who are industrious and energetic—a lesson he was to learn in due time.
Leo went in to see André; and the barber declared, that with two such children as he had, he could afford to be sick, and that a terribly heavy load had been removed from his mind.