David nodded, but he didn't say anything, for he didn't understand why the carpenters didn't make the blinds.
Pretty soon he pulled at the foreman's hand.
"I want to go back," he said.
So they went back to the painters who were painting the side of the house.
They had lowered the staging so low that the foreman could reach it.
"I'll tell you what, Davie," the foreman said. "Do you suppose you could paint a clapboard?"
"Oh," cried David, "will they let me?"
"I guess so," the foreman answered. "You ask them."
David looked up at the painters, and the painters looked down at David, and they were smiling.
David started to speak, but he couldn't ask what he wanted to. And the painters saw what was the matter, and one of them spoke.