emed very full to him now, what with
his regular duties and the fresh obligations laid upon him by the
Handbook.

He skimped nothing. What did the housework amount to, now that he felt a
sudden liking for it? And he found that he could memorize the laws while
he was stringing beads. When he paused, either in one line of effort or
the other, it was to do a good turn: put crumbs on the window sill for
the sparrows, feed Boof, take Mrs. Kukor up one of the small pies
(lifting off Grandpa's hat to her at the door), and give the little old
veteran not one, but several, short railway journeys. And all the while
he made sure, by the help of Cis's mirror, that his mouth was turned up
at each end like a true scout's mouth should be.

"I got t' git my lips used to it," he declared, "so's they'll stay put."

And the things he did not do! For example, he discontinued his
clothesline telephone service; for another, he wasted no minute by
introducing into the kitchen territory either foreign or domestic. For
he was experiencing the high joy of being excessively good. Indeed, and
for the first time in his life, he was being so good that it was almost
painful.

Finding Johnnie in this truly angelic state of mind when he arrived, Mr.
Perkins grasped his opportunity, skipped all the chapters of the
Handbook till he came to that one touching upon chivalry, and sat down
with Johnnie to review it. And what a joy it proved to the new convert
to find in those pages his old friends King Arthur and Sir Launcelot,
together with Galahad, Gareth, Bedivere and all the others! and to make
the acquaintance of Alfred the Great, the Pilgrim Fathers, the
pioneers, and Mr. Lincoln!--especially Mr. Lincoln, that boy who had
traveled from a log cabin to the White House!

"And I'll tell y' what!" he vowed, when Mr. Perkins rose to take his
leave, "I've made up my mind what I'm goin' t' be when I grow up. I've
thought 'bout a lot of things, but this time I'm sure! Mister Perkins,
I'm goin' t' try t' be President of the United States!"

Later on, he made a second vow to himself. "Good turns for Grandpa don't
'mount t' much," he declared. "He's so handy as a good-turner. So I'm
goin' t' do one that'll count. I'm goin' t' good-turn Big Tom!"

He took down the bag of dried beans from the cupboard and searched out
certain nine small buttons. From time to time, in the past, he had, on
what he felt was just provocation, subtracted these nine buttons from
Bi