We
have an early dinner, and there will be time enough after that for
you to look about the city."
"I shouldn't like to put you out," said Barker.
"Oh, not at all," returned Sewell, grateful for this sign of
animation, and not exigent of a more formal acceptance of his
invitation. "You know," he said, "that literature is a trade, like
every other vocation, and that you must serve an apprenticeship if
you expect to excel. But first of all you must have some natural
aptitude for the business you undertake. You understand?" asked
Sewell; for he had begun to doubt whether Barker understood
anything. He seemed so much more stupid than he had at home; his
faculties were apparently sealed up, and he had lost all the
personal picturesqueness which he had when he came in out of the
barn, at his mother's call, to receive Sewell.
"Yes," said the boy.
"I don't mean," continued Sewell, "that I wouldn't have you continue
to make verses whenever you have the leisure for it. I think, on the
contrary, that it will give a grace to your life which it might
otherwise lack. We are all in daily danger of being barbarised by
the sordid details of life; the constantly recurring little duties
which must be done, but which we must not allow to become the whole
of life." Sewell was so much pleased with this thought, when it had
taken form in words, that he made a mental note of it for future
use.
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