. The story of the attack was in the newspaper and the civil
authorities committed the moron to an institution for the
feeble-minded. Some of the orphan kids visited me and I got them to
bring my little set of drawing tools. I was tinkering with these when
Mister Lannarck came in. He looked at some of my sketches and asked if
I could draft a plan in true proportions. I told him I thought I
could, if I had the correct measurements. He put on his coat and left.

"Now Mr. Lannarck was a carpenter-contractor. Not a big one, with an
office and a draftsman, bookkeeper and such; just a carpenter with a
desk in the front room where he kept his papers. He had little
education but his figures were correct. He had built good buildings,
but he specialized in repairs--in the upkeep of property--and he had
many clients. He was honest and fair; he made money and saved it. He
could read blueprints but he couldn't make 'em. His fingers were all
thumbs when it came to outlining.

"Presently he came back with some figures, and about the worst outline
I had ever seen. He explained it was a church. It was to have an
addition. There was a memorial window to be taken out and placed at
the right place in the new part. He had the correct figures and he
wanted a rough draft to show 'em. He gave me some big sheets to work
on.

"That night, Mrs. Lannarck had to order me to bed, I was that
interested. The next morning I was up early. That evening I showed him
my outline. He didn't say much. He took the drawings and his own
figures to a meeting that night. When he came home he said he had
closed the deal, that my outline was what had helped, said it would
make money. My, oh, my, but there was a proud boy in a big bed at the
Lannarck home that night. That was the first dollar I have ever
earned. Of course, I didn't get the dollar, but I got much more.

"It sounds sorta mushy, doesn't it, Mrs. Gillis," said Davy,
interrupting the recital. "Kind of a Pollyanna tale with a Horatio
Alger finish. But in none of his stories did Alger ever portray a
tougher background or give it a bigger skyrocket finish. Just think of
it, Mrs. Gillis! Here was a kid with the black thought that he was
never to be a man; was never to do a man's work, never to win in any
manly contest. Worse yet, he had never seen his father or felt a
mother's caress. He never had had a place called home. Do you blame
him for horning in?

"Well, it worked out better than I hoped. The ne