s ingenuity in little things was
transcendent. He could cut oranges into such devices as none of us had
an idea of. He could make a boat out of anything, from a skewer upwards.
He could turn cramp-bones into chessmen; fashion Roman chariots from old
court cards; make spoked wheels out of cotton reels, and bird-cages of
old wire. But he was greatest of all, perhaps, in the articles of string
and straw; with which we were all persuaded he could do anything that
could be done by hands.

Mr. Dick's renown was not long confined to us. After a few Wednesdays,
Doctor Strong himself made some inquiries of me about him, and I told
him all my aunt had told me; which interested the Doctor so much that
he requested, on the occasion of his next visit, to be presented to him.
This ceremony I performed; and the Doctor begging Mr. Dick, whensoever
he should not find me at the coach office, to come on there, and rest
himself until our morning's work was over, it soon passed into a custom
for Mr. Dick to come on as a matter of course, and, if we were a little
late, as often happened on a Wednesday, to walk about the courtyard,
waiting for me. Here he made the acquaintance of the Doctor's beautiful
young wife (paler than formerly, all this time; more rarely seen by
me or anyone, I think; and not so gay, but not less beautiful), and so
became more and more familiar by degrees, until, at last, he would come
into the school and wait. He always sat in a particular corner, on a
particular stool, which was called 'Dick', after him; here he would sit,
with his grey head bent forward, attentively listening to whatever might
be going on, with a profound veneration for the learning he had never
been able to acquire.

This veneration Mr. Dick extended to the Doctor, whom he thought the
most subtle and accomplished philosopher of any age. It was long before
Mr. Dick ever spoke to him otherwise than bareheaded; and even when he
and the Doctor had struck up quite a friendship, and would walk together
by the hour, on that side of the courtyard which was known among us as
The Doctor's Walk, Mr. Dick would pull off his hat at intervals to show
his respect for wisdom and knowledge. How it ever came about that the
Doctor began to read out scraps of the famous Dictionary, in these
walks, I never knew; perhaps he felt it all the same, at first, as
reading to himself. However, it passed into a custom too; and Mr. Dick,
listening with a face shining with pride