around, look about the shops, and find out a respectable trade where a bad hand won't matter too much. You're a bright boy, Johnny. Maybe a ropemaker or a cooper or a weaver could teach you his craft. That hand of yours will soon be strong enough, but will always be sort of doubled in on itself.'
Johnny started to look at his hand, but quickly thrust it back in his pocket.
'You're right,' he said. 'I've got to go.'
'I don't want you to feel hurried about leaving us, Johnny. You're just about earning your keep by the odd jobs you do, spite of what Mrs. L. says. You look about you quietly and find a trade to your fancy and a master you think you'd like. You can tell him from me I'll give the rest of your time away for nothing.'
It was less than two months ago Mr. Revere was promising something extra for his time.
'Mrs. L. doesn't like it the way you loiter off and go swimming; but you loiter and swim all you have a mindâjust so you get the chores done and settle down real hard to finding yourself a new trade. And one more thing I have on my mind.'
'Yes, sir.'
'I want you to forgive Dove like a Christian.'
'Forgive him? Why?'
'Why, that when you asked for a crucible he handed you the old cracked one.'
'You mean ... he did it on purpose?'
'No, no, Johnny, he only meant to humiliate you. He tells me (Mrs. L. made me question him) that he was that offended by your Sabbath-breaking he thought it fitting that you should learn a lesson. I can't help but admit I'm encouraged with that much piety in
one
of my boys.'
Johnny's voice sounded strangled. 'Mr. Lapham, I'm going to get him for that...'
'Hush, hush, boy. I say, and Bible says, forgive. He was real repentant when he told me. Never meant to harm you. He was in tears.'
'He's going to be in a lot more of those tears 'fore I'm done with him. That scabby, white louse, that hypocritical...'
'Hold your tongue, boy. I thought misfortune had taught you patience.'
'It has,' said Johnny. 'If I have to, I'll wait ten years to get that Dove.'
But he quieted himself instantly and thanked his master for his kindness. As he walked past the shop, he saw Dove and Dusty hanging idly out of the shop window. They were looking for him.
Dove said: 'Will Mr. Johnny Tremain be so kind as to fetch us drinking water? Mrs. Lapham says
we
are too valuable to leave our benches. She told us we were to send you.'
Without a word he went to the back entry, put on the heavy yoke.
Understandably, the sight ofJohnny wielding a broom, carrying charcoal, firewood, water, had not quickly lost its fascination for his erstwhile slaves. They were still hanging out of the window.
'Look sharp, Johnny.'
'Hey, boy, look sharp.'
Giggles. A low whistle.
Johnny said nothing.
Â
III. An Earth of Brass
W EEKS wore on. September was ending. A large part of every day Johnny spent doing what he called 'looking for work.' He did not really want to follow any trade but his own. He looked down on soap-boilers, leather-dressers, ropemakers, and such. He did not begin his hunt along Hancock's Wharf and Fish Street, where he and his story were well known and the masters would have been apt to employ him from pity. He went to the far ends of Boston.
Mr. Lapham had told him to stand about and watch the different artisans at their trades until he was sure it was work he could do. Then he was to address the master politely, explain about his bad hand, and ask to be taken on. But Johnny was too impatient, too unthinking and too scornful. He barged into shop after shop along the great wharves and up and down Cornhill and Orange, Ann, and Ship Streets, Dock Square, King and Queen Streetsâ'Did the master want another boy?'âkeeping his hand hidden in his pocket.
His quickness and address struck everyone favorably, and so an old clockmaker eagerly agreed to take him onâespecially when he told him that he had already served Mr. Lapham two years.
'But why, my boy, is Mr. Lapham ready to part with
Johnny started to look at his hand, but quickly thrust it back in his pocket.
'You're right,' he said. 'I've got to go.'
'I don't want you to feel hurried about leaving us, Johnny. You're just about earning your keep by the odd jobs you do, spite of what Mrs. L. says. You look about you quietly and find a trade to your fancy and a master you think you'd like. You can tell him from me I'll give the rest of your time away for nothing.'
It was less than two months ago Mr. Revere was promising something extra for his time.
'Mrs. L. doesn't like it the way you loiter off and go swimming; but you loiter and swim all you have a mindâjust so you get the chores done and settle down real hard to finding yourself a new trade. And one more thing I have on my mind.'
'Yes, sir.'
'I want you to forgive Dove like a Christian.'
'Forgive him? Why?'
'Why, that when you asked for a crucible he handed you the old cracked one.'
'You mean ... he did it on purpose?'
'No, no, Johnny, he only meant to humiliate you. He tells me (Mrs. L. made me question him) that he was that offended by your Sabbath-breaking he thought it fitting that you should learn a lesson. I can't help but admit I'm encouraged with that much piety in
one
of my boys.'
Johnny's voice sounded strangled. 'Mr. Lapham, I'm going to get him for that...'
'Hush, hush, boy. I say, and Bible says, forgive. He was real repentant when he told me. Never meant to harm you. He was in tears.'
'He's going to be in a lot more of those tears 'fore I'm done with him. That scabby, white louse, that hypocritical...'
'Hold your tongue, boy. I thought misfortune had taught you patience.'
'It has,' said Johnny. 'If I have to, I'll wait ten years to get that Dove.'
But he quieted himself instantly and thanked his master for his kindness. As he walked past the shop, he saw Dove and Dusty hanging idly out of the shop window. They were looking for him.
Dove said: 'Will Mr. Johnny Tremain be so kind as to fetch us drinking water? Mrs. Lapham says
we
are too valuable to leave our benches. She told us we were to send you.'
Without a word he went to the back entry, put on the heavy yoke.
Understandably, the sight ofJohnny wielding a broom, carrying charcoal, firewood, water, had not quickly lost its fascination for his erstwhile slaves. They were still hanging out of the window.
'Look sharp, Johnny.'
'Hey, boy, look sharp.'
Giggles. A low whistle.
Johnny said nothing.
Â
III. An Earth of Brass
W EEKS wore on. September was ending. A large part of every day Johnny spent doing what he called 'looking for work.' He did not really want to follow any trade but his own. He looked down on soap-boilers, leather-dressers, ropemakers, and such. He did not begin his hunt along Hancock's Wharf and Fish Street, where he and his story were well known and the masters would have been apt to employ him from pity. He went to the far ends of Boston.
Mr. Lapham had told him to stand about and watch the different artisans at their trades until he was sure it was work he could do. Then he was to address the master politely, explain about his bad hand, and ask to be taken on. But Johnny was too impatient, too unthinking and too scornful. He barged into shop after shop along the great wharves and up and down Cornhill and Orange, Ann, and Ship Streets, Dock Square, King and Queen Streetsâ'Did the master want another boy?'âkeeping his hand hidden in his pocket.
His quickness and address struck everyone favorably, and so an old clockmaker eagerly agreed to take him onâespecially when he told him that he had already served Mr. Lapham two years.
'But why, my boy, is Mr. Lapham ready to part with
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