Nearly two hundred years ago, when Queen Elizabeth was seated on the
throne of England, there lived in the quiet little village of
Woodborough, in Nottinghamshire, a modest, earnest, thoughtful boy
called William Lee. So great was his love for study and for reading of
almost any kind that, after finishing school, his parents sent him to
Cambridge.
One day, while out for a walk, William saw a young girl sitting at a
cottage door knitting a stocking. Very soon he made her acquaintance,
and during the visits he paid her he would read aloud while she plied
her knitting-needles. When tired of reading, William frequently
suggested a ramble in the fields, but Nellie nearly always refused,
giving as her reason that her work must be attended to, and that she
dare not lay it aside for pleasure. Of course her lover admired her
industry, but he could not help wondering if some means could not be
discovered by which stockings might be made more quickly.
In time William became a clergyman, and he married Nellie. But his
income was very small, and they had to save in every possible way.
Nellie saw with pain the care-worn look on his brow; she knew too well
why it had settled there. At length a happy thought flashed across her
mind--she would send for her knitting-needles, and begin her
stocking-knitting again. She knew there would be no difficulty in
selling any number of stockings she might make. Her needles moved so
quickly that before long the amount of work completed was sufficient to
offer for sale.
As William sat watching his wife's needles, he carefully observed how
the loops were made, and how the same thread travelled round and round
the stocking, forming a new loop every time it passed through an old
one. As he watched Nellie's fingers, the idea gradually dawned upon him
how a machine might be invented to do the work instead; and after much
planning he succeeded in making the small model of a knitting-frame.
Delighted with his success, he went to London, where, after much
difficulty, he gained access to Lord Hunsdon, one of the Queen's
ministers, who informed Queen Elizabeth that a poor parson he knew had a
wonderful machine for making stockings, which he wanted her Majesty to
inspect. The Queen refused the patent because the machine only made
woollen stockings.
William was very much disappointed, but he resolved nevertheless to
carry out his plans. For seven or eight years he patiently worked away,
improving his machine, until at length he completed a frame delicate
enough for silk work. With this he made a pair of silk stockings, which
he forthwith forwarded to the Queen. Elizabeth praised their beauty and
elasticity, but gave him nothing for them.
As the time passed on, William's expenses increased, and although he had
made considerable money, it had been necessary to spend so much on his
machines that very little profit remained. The sale, too, of the woven
stockings was hindered by popular prejudice, and, added to all this, his
friend at court was dead.
At this crisis, Lee's stocking-loom, which was being discussed far and
wide, became an object of interest to Henry IV. of France, who sent
William an invitation to remove to that country. Thither the inventor
went, hoping great things from royal patronage, and taking with him a
few workmen, set up his machinery at Rouen. For a short time he carried
on a brisk, thriving trade, and began to indulge the belief that his
last days would be his brightest, when suddenly his hopes were crushed
by the assassination of Henry by Ravaillac. This sad event put an end to
the success of William. The French people regarded him with suspicion
both as a Protestant and as an Englishman, and after wandering about
from place to place, he died, broken-hearted and almost starving, in
Paris.
To-day, machine-made stockings are worn by the people of all civilized
countries, and thousands upon thousands of dollars are made by their
manufacture.
[Illustration: AT ODDS.]