James’s keen observation enabled him to build many suspension-bridges over impassable places in his boy-hood and youth, and, in comparison with some of them, his success with carpenter’s tools is scarcely worth mentioning.

“I like this,” said James, as he turned over the well-planed board to the carpenter; “it’s fun!”

“You will not find much fun in it when you have kept at it all day,” replied the carpenter. “It takes elbow- grease to do this work well.”

“Elbow-grease!” repeated James; “what’s elbow-grease?”

“It is sweat, that is pouring out of you now, Jimmy,” the carpenter replied. “Can’t do much at planing without putting sweat into it.”

“Sweat alone won’t run a plane,” rejoined James, intimating to the carpenter that brains were needed as much as work.

“That is so,” replied Mr. Treat; “but you understand what I mean. The most skilful workman will find hard labour in this business; and to do it well, he must be willing to sweat.”

“If sweat is proof of doing it well, then the board is well planed, Mr. Treat, for I sweat enough,” James added.

“You have done it well; I couldn’t have done it better myself,” replied Mr. Treat. “You was born to be a carpenter, I guess.”

“I’d like to be one,” interrupted James, “If I could be a good one.”

“Well, you would make a good one, my boy, judging from the work you have done. Perhaps you will be a boss-carpenter before you are twenty-one. Who knows?”

“I couldn’t be that without a chance,” remarked James, intimating that a chance was scarcely possible for a boy in his circumstances.

“Of course not; but where there’s a will there’s a way.”

“That’s what mother says.”

“And that is what overcomes difficulties,” continued Mr. Treat. “But there are more boards” (pointing to a pile on the ground) “if you want to do more of this sort of work.”

Another board was laid on the bench, and James continued to drive the plane for an hour and more. He was general errand-boy when he was about the building, so that he could not use plane or chisel long without interruption. It was “Go here,” and “go there”; “Get this,” and “get that”; to all of which demands he cheerfully responded.

The raising of the house was a grand affair to James. It was the first house-raising he ever attended, and it was a great novelty. He was sent to notify the neighbours of the event on a given day, and to solicit their assistance. The neighbours were thoroughly glad that Mrs. Garfield was going to have a new house, and many were their praises of the son who thus provided for his worthy mother. They were promptly on hand at the time, and the frame went up without mistake or accident. And now came another treat for James. He had had his eye upon a keg of nails for some days, anticipating the highest kind of pleasure from driving them. It was sport for him to drive nails, as it is for boys generally, and he expected to have his fill of the fun.

“Now, Jimmy, you can try your hand at driving nails,” said Mr. Treat, addressing the boy-carpenter.