bustling round, on housewifely cares intent, and her little nephew
sat dreamily gazing into the glowing blaze on the kitchen hearth.

Presently the teakettle ceased singing, and a column of steam came
rushing from its pipe. The boy started to his feet, raised the lid
from the kettle, and peered in at the bubbling, boiling water,
with a look of intense interest. Then he rushed off for a teacup,
and, holding it over the steam, eagerly watched the latter as it
condensed and formed into tiny drops of water on the inside of the
cup.

Returning from an upper room, whither her duties had called her,
the thrifty aunt was shocked to find her nephew engaged in so
profitless an occupation, and soundly scolded him for what she
called his trifling. The good lady little dreamed that James Watt
was even then unconsciously studying the germ of the science by
which he "transformed the steam engine from a mere toy into the
most wonderful instrument which human industry has ever had at its
command."

This studious little Scottish lad, who, because too frail to go to
school, had been taught at home, was very different from other
boys. When only six or seven years old, he would lie for hours on
the hearth, in the little cottage at Greenock, near Glasgow, where
he was born in 1736, drawing geometrical figures with pieces of
colored chalk. He loved, too, to gaze at the stars, and longed to
solve their mysteries. But his favorite pastime was to burrow
among the ropes and sails and tackles in his father's store,
trying to find out how they were made and what purposes they
served.