"
His mother did not know what to say. But she only said that there was
some use for everybody. She knew that David was not wanting in
intelligence. In practical affairs he showed more shrewdness than his
brother. But his father had set his heart on making him a scholar. That
very day the teacher had said to his father that it was no use.
"Your father," she said, "intends to take you from school, and it is a
great disappointment to him. But we know that you have done your best,
and you must not be disheartened. If you were lazy, we should feel a
great deal worse."
Just then they came to the orchard brook. Here she saw in the dim light
something moving in the water.
"What is that, David?" she said.
"That's my flutter-wheel, and I feel like breaking it to pieces."
"Why?"
"Well, you see, all the boys made little water-mills to be run by the
force of the stream. We call them 'flutter-wheels.' But I made one so
curious that it beat them all," he said.
"Show it to me, Davie," she said. And David explained it to her,
forgetting all about his unhappiness in the pleasure of showing the
little cog-wheels, and the under-shot wheel that drove it.
"And why did you want to break it up?" she asked.
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