so far as he could think, did nothing for anybody! That could not be
right; it _could_ not be--for it was not reasonable. Not to mention his
father and mother, there was Mrs Wilson, who had taught him to knit, and
even given him a few lessons in spinning, though that had not come to
much; and here was Hector Macallaster going to teach him to make shoes;
and not one thing that he could think of was he capable of doing in
return! This must be looked into, for things could not be allowed to go
on like that. All at once it struck him that Hector had said, with some
regret in his voice, that though he had plenty of time to think, he had
very little time to read; also that although he could see well enough by
candlelight to work at his trade, he could not see well enough to read.
What a fine thing it would be to learn to read to Hector! It would be
such fun to surprise him too, by all at once reading him something!

The sun was not at his full height when Willie received this
illumination. Before the sun went down he knew and could read at sight
at least a dozen words.

For the moment he saw that he ought to learn to read, he ran to his
mother, and asked her to teach him. She was delighted, for she had begun
to be a little doubtful whether his father's plan of leaving him alone
till he wanted to learn was the right one. But at that precise moment
she was too busy with something that must be done for his father to
lay it down and begin teaching him his letters. Willie was so eager to
learn, however, that he could not rest without doing something towards
it. He bethought himself a little--then ran and got Dr Watts's hymns for
children. He knew "How doth the little busy bee" so well as to be able
to repeat it without a mistake, for his mother had taught it him, and he
had understood it. You see, he was not like a child of five, taught to
repeat by rote lines which could give him no notions but mistaken ones.