So I watched him
intently, studying his system with every fiber of my being. Nor did
I content myself with imitating his processes. I was forever
pondering the problem and introducing little improvements of my
own. I was making a science of it. It was not merely physical
exertion. It was a source of intellectual interest as well. I was
wrapped up in it. If I happened to meet a cloak-operator who was
noted for extraordinary speed I would feel like an ambitious
musician meeting a famous virtuoso. Some cloak-operators were
artists. I certainly was not one of them. I admired their work and
envied them, but I lacked the artistic patience and the dexterity
essential to workmanship of a high order. Much to my chagrin, I
was a born bungler. But then I possessed physical strength,
nervous vitality, method, and inventiveness--all the elements that
go to make up speed
I was progressing with unusual rapidity. Joe criticized my work
severely, often calling me botcher, but I knew that this was chiefly
intended to veil his satisfaction at the growing profits that my
work was yielding him
I now earned about ten dollars a week, of which I spent about five,
saving the rest for the next season of idleness
At last that season set in.
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