Two boys sat on a log whittling. Conversation had ceased and they both seemed absorbed in their work. Presently the younger one became aware of the silence and glanced at the older boy. He gave an exclamation and jumped to his feet. "Why," he cried, "you are making a knife out of wood. Isn't it a beauty! Is it a dagger?"

"No" replied the other, "it is a paper-knife for opening letters and cutting the pages of magazines. It is for father's desk, for his birthday."

"It's a dandy!" continued the youngster. "How can you make such fine things? Why can't I do that kind of work?"

"You can do it," replied Ralph, "but just now there are several reasons why you don't."

"What are they?"

"Well, in the first place you start to whittle without having any clear idea of what you are at work on. It's for all the world like setting out to walk without knowing where you are going. If you start that way, the probabilities are that you will get nowhere, and when you get back and father asks where you have been, you say, 'Oh, nowhere; just took a walk.' That's the way with your knife work. You just whittle and make a lot of chips, and when you get through you have nothing to show for your time and labour. If you want to know a secret—I never start to cut without first making a careful sketch of just what I want to make, with all the important dimensions on it.

"Another reason you don't get any results is that you don't know how to hold your knife, and still another is that you work with a dull tool. Why, that knife of yours is hardly sharp enough to cut butter."

"Will you show me how to do that kind of work?" asked the youngster humbly.

"Yes; on certain conditions."

"What are they?"

"That you will do just as I tell you."

"Will you show me how to make a paper-cutter now?"

"There you go, right off the handle! You are like a young man learning carpentry; you want to start right in to build a house instead of first learning how to use your tools. Why, it has taken me two years in the manual training school to learn how to do this work. No, indeed, if you want to learn how to do woodwork like this you must begin on something simple, learn how to handle wood, and how to keep your tools sharp."

"All right," sighed the younger boy; "I am willing to take lessons and begin at the beginning. What shall we do first?"

"The first thing to do is to throw away your folding penknife. That kind is of very little use. The steel is so poor it won't hold a cutting edge for any time at all, and the knife has a treacherous habit of closing up on your fingers. I will give you a good Swedish whittling knife like mine, and we will start by putting a good cutting edge on it."

So the boys began the first lesson. The fun they had and the things they made, their many experiences, the patience required, and the great skill developed with tools are described in the following pages. What they accomplished, any other boy may do if he will but apply himself with all his energy.