"It would be a bitter pill to swallow," said Dick thoughtfully, "if it was done in charity--a gilded pill, mother, wrapped up in that bit of paper. Oh, mother, mother!" he cried, stamping up and down the room, "I'm only a poor, miserable fellow, but I've got my pride, like better men. I don't like this beggarly dependence on other people--this taking money in charity. If I could only hit a bright--invent some new thing that all the world would buy!" "Watts was an inventor, and made the steam engine," said the boy softly. "Hang Watts!" cried Dick impatiently. "Here, you be quiet. I don't want your union-school copy-books here." "All right, master," said the boy, with a sniff. Dick walked up and down the room in an excited way, with the bank-note in his left hand, while a bluebottle fly came in at the window and buzzed round the room, now up, now down, its loud hum rising and falling, as, apparently taken off from his previous thoughts, the man followed it, and as it settled he twice made ineffectual efforts to catch it. "_Buzz_--_uzz_--_buzz_! _Um_--_um_--_um_!" went the fly; while Jack stood with open mouth and an old slipper, ready to hit at the insect if it came his way; Mrs Shingle and Jessie glancing at one another, and then following Dick in a troubled fashion with their eyes, as he still pursued the great bluebottle. "You've a fine time of it, you have," he said, "you great, lazy wind-flitter!" "_Buzz_--_buzz_!--_um_--_um_--_um_!" went the fly, round and round. "Ah," said Dick, "some men hit bright ideas, and make fortunes, but I don't; and it seems (ah! I nearly had you that time)--seems, mother, as if we go on as we are that we may toil on (well, he is a sharp one, but I'll have him yet)--toil on till we get to the workhouse!" "Oh, don't, please, master--don't go there," cried the boy. "Now, master--quick, quick. He's settled on the edge of the last shelf." "I see him," said Dick, going cautiously up, with hand ready to catch the fly. But, before he reached it, away it went round and round the room again. "_Buzz_--_uzz_!--_um_--_um_--_um_!" "There's nothing done without trying, mother," continued Dick, who was excited now over his chase. "Try again, try again till you succeed's the way. Now, you know, if I was to--was to--(Ah, gone again; but I'll have you yet)--you see, I might--" "Now, master, there he is," whispered Jack; "you'll have it now." "Yes," said Dick, "I shall get it now. You see, mother, shoemaking and cobbling's all very well, but it means starvation to us, though it's a thing in common demand. If I could invent--(Ah! I shall have you directly)." He went cautiously across the room. "Invent a pair o' boots as won't never wear out, master," whispered the boy. "Now look, master--there, on the wall!"