the right son. You can make yerself whatever you want to be. It's all
inside of a boy and it comes out by and by--swords and gold and
diamonds, or rags an' dirt an' shovels an' crowbars."

I wondered what I had inside of me.

"I guess I ain't got any sword in me," I said.

"When you've been eating green apples and I wouldn't wonder," he
answered as he went on with his work.

"Once I thought I heard a watch tickin' in my throat," I said hopefully.

"I don't mean them things is really in ye, but the power to git 'em is
in ye," said Uncle Peabody. "That's what I mean--power. Be a good boy
and study yer lessons and never lie, and the power'll come into ye jest
as sure as you're alive."

I began to watch myself for symptoms of power.

After I ceased to play with the Wills boy Uncle Peabody used to say,
often, it was a pity that I hadn't somebody of my own age for company.
Every day I felt sorry that the Wills boy had turned out so badly, and I
doubt not the cat and the shepherd dog and the chickens and Uncle
Peabody also regretted his failures, especially the dog and Uncle
Peabody, who bore all sorts of indignities for my sake.

In the circumstances I had to give a good deal of time to the proper
education of my uncle. Naturally he preferred to waste his time with
shovels and rakes. But he soon learned how to roll a hoop and play tag