Please, you must let me make them for Aggy.

Besides, she's not old enough yet even to say thank you for them." "Then she won't be old enough to say thank you to you either," said Hector, who, all this time, had been losing no moment from his work, but was stitching away, with a bore, and a twiddle, and a hiss, at the sole of a huge boot.
"Ah! but you see, she's my own--so it doesn't matter!" If I were writing a big book, instead of a little one, I should be tempted to say not only that this set Hector a thinking, but what it made him think as well.

Instead of replying, however, he laid down his boot, rose, and first taking from a shelf a whole skin of calf-leather, and next a low chair from a corner of the room, he set the latter near his own seat opposite the window.
"Sit down there, then, Willie," he said; adding, as he handed him the calf-skin, "There's your leather, and my tools are at your service.

Make your shoes, and welcome.

I shall be glad of your company." Having thus spoken, he sat down again, caught up his boot hurriedly, and began stitching away as if for bare life.
Willie took the calf-skin on his lap, somewhat bewildered.