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118 He selected one, got a sheet of tin and a pair of stovepipe shears, and became engrossed in cutting out and forming cones, funnels and all kinds of odd-shaped contrivances.

For fully two hours Frank was working at his task. He seemed to be supplying the crude apple corer with an inner sheath, to which he had supplied a small three-bladed device. He turned it about, altered it, worked over it, and a broad smile of satisfaction stole across his face as he progressed.

"Frank, this is not sleeping."

Frank looked up from his task, quite startled, to find his mother standing a few feet away, watching him.

"I know it isn't, mother," he responded gaily. "It's work, good work, too, so it couldn't wait."

"But, Frank—"

"Listen, mother," he said, "I have dreamed out an invention. Really I have. If my improved apple corer works as I think it will, this is a lucky spell of wakefulness. I don't want to say much about it till I am sure of it, but I believe I have invented something practical and of value."

Frank treasured his little model in his pocket, and consented to go back to bed now. He was up bright and early. First thing he was down in