I don't know why David took his cart that time, for there wasn't any mortar man, and there wasn't any sand-pile. He almost always took his cart.
When David got to the house, there was the foreman standing in almost the same place, but the painters had lowered the staging some more.
And David didn't say anything, but he dropped the handle of his cart, and he went to the foreman and reached up for the foreman's hand.
And the foreman's big hand closed over David's little one, and the foreman smiled, but he didn't say anything, either. He waited for David to speak.
David watched the painters for some time.
"What color are they painting it?" he asked at last. "It looks like white on the brushes, but sort of watery when they put it on, just as my paints look when I put a great deal of water with them. Have they got a great deal of water with their paint?"
"Not water, Davie," the foreman answered, "but oil. This is the first coat of paint, you see, put right on the bare wood, and the wood soaks the oil out of the paint at a great rate. They won't put so much oil in the second and third coats."
"Oh," said David, "will they paint it three times?"
"Three times for new wood," the foreman said.
