“Well, Rollo,” said his father, one evening, as he was sitting on his cricket before a bright, glowing fire, late in the autumn, after all his fruits were gathered in, “you have really done some work this summer, haven't you?”

“Yes, sir,” said Rollo; and he began to reckon up the amount of peas, and beans, and corn, and other things, that he had raised.

“Yes,” said his father, “you have had a pretty good garden; but the best of it is your own improvement. You are really beginning to get over some of the faults of

boy work

.”

“What are the faults of boy work?” said Rollo.

“One of the first is, confounding work with play,—or rather expecting the pleasure of play, while they are doing work. There is great pleasure in doing work, as I have told you before, when it is well and properly done, but it is very different from the pleasure of play. It comes later; generally after the work is done. While you are doing your work, it requires

exertion

and

self-denial

, and sometimes the sameness is tiresome.

“It is so with

men

when they work, but they expect it will be so, and persevere notwithstanding; but

boys

, who have not learned this, expect their work will be play; and, when they find it is not so, they get tired, and want to leave it or to find some new way.

“You showed your wish to make play of your work, that day when you were getting in your chips, by insisting on having just such a basket as you happened to fancy; and then, when you got a little tired of that, going for the wheelbarrow; and then leaving the chips altogether, and going to piling the wood.”

“Well, father,” said Rollo, “do not men try to make their work as pleasant as they can?”

“Yes, but they do not continually change from one thing to another in hopes to make it

amusing

. They always expect that it will be laborious and tiresome, and they understand this beforehand, and go steadily forward notwithstanding. You are beginning to learn to do this.

“Another fault, which you boys are very apt to fall into, is impatience. This comes from the first fault; for you expect, when you go to work, the kind of pleasure you have in play, and when you find you do not obtain it, or meet with any difficulties, you grow impatient, and get tired of what you are doing.

“From this follows the third fault—

changeableness

, or want of perseverance. Instead of steadily going forward in the way they commence, boys are very apt to abandon one thing after another, and to try this new way, and that new way, so as to accomplish very little in any thing.”

“Do you think I have overcome all these?” said Rollo.

“In part,” said his father; “you begin to understand something about them, and to be on your guard against them. But you have only made a beginning.”

“Only a beginning?” said Rollo; “why, I thought I had learned to work pretty well.”

“So you have, for a little boy; but it is only a beginning, after all. I don't think you would succeed in persevering steadily, so as to accomplish any serious undertaking now.”

“Why, father,

think I should.”

“Suppose I should give you the Latin grammar to learn in three months, and tell you that, at the end of that time, I would hear you recite it all at once. Do you suppose you should be ready?”

“Why, father, that is not

work

.”

“Yes,” said his father, “that is one kind of work,—and just such a kind of work, so far as patience, steadiness, and perseverance, are needed, as you will have most to do, in future years. But if I were to give it to you to do, and then say nothing to you about it till you had time to have learned the whole, I have some doubts whether you would recite a tenth part of it.”

Rollo was silent; he knew it would be just so.

“No, my little son,” said his father, putting him down and patting his head, “you have got a great deal to learn before you become a man; but then you have got some years to learn it in; that is a comfort. But now it is time for you to go to bed; so good night.”

The Apple-Gathering

The Garden-House

There was a certain building on one side of Farmer Cropwell's yard which they called the

garden-house

. There was one large double door which opened from it into the garden, and another smaller one which led to the yard towards the house. On one side of this room were a great many different kinds of garden-tools, such as hoes, rakes, shovels, and spades; there were one or two wheelbarrows, and little wagons. Over these were two or three broad shelves, with baskets, and bundles of matting, and ropes, and chains, and various iron tools. Around the wall, in different places, various things were hung up—here a row of augers, there a trap, and in other places parts of harness.

Opposite to these, there was a large bench, which extended along the whole side. At one end of this bench there were a great many carpenter's tools; and the other was covered with papers of seeds, and little bundles of dried plants, which Farmer Cropwell had just been getting in from the garden.

The farmer and one of his boys was at work here, arranging his seeds, and doing up his bundles, one pleasant morning in the fall, when a boy about twelve years old came running to the door of the garden-house, from the yard, playing with a large dog. The dog ran behind him, jumping up upon him; and when they got to the door, the boy ran in quick, laughing, and shut the door suddenly, so that the dog could not come in after him. This boy's name was George: the dog's name was Nappy—that is, they always called him Nappy. His true name was Napoleon; though James always thought that he got his name from the long naps he used to take in a certain sunny corner of the yard.

But, as I said before, George got into the garden-house, and shut Nappy out. He stood there holding the door, and said,

“Father, all the horses have been watered but Jolly: may I ride him to the brook?”

“Yes,” said his father.

So George turned round, and opened the door a little way, and peeped out.

“Ah, old Nappy! you are there still, are you, wagging your tail? Don't you wish you could catch him?”

George then shut the door, and walked softly across to the great door leading out into the garden. From here he stole softly around into the barn, by a back way, and then came forward, and peeped out in front, and saw that Nappy was still there, sitting up, and looking at the door very closely. He was waiting for George to come out.

Jolly

George then went back to the stall where Jolly was feeding. He went in and untied his halter, and led him out. Jolly was a sleek, black, beautiful little horse, not old enough to do much work, but a very good horse to ride. George took down a bridle, and, after leading Jolly to a horse-block, where he could stand up high enough to reach his head, he put the bridle on, and then jumped up upon his back, and walked him out of the barn by a door where Nappy could not see them.

He then rode round by the other side of the house, until he came to the road, and he went along the road until he could see up the yard to the place where Nappy was watching. He called out,

Nappy!

in a loud voice, and then immediately set his horse off upon a run. Nappy looked down to the road, and was astonished to see George upon the horse, when he supposed he was still behind the door where he was watching, and he sprang forward, and set off after him in full pursuit.

He caught George just as he was riding down into the brook. George was looking round and laughing at him as he came up; but Nappy looked quite grave, and did nothing but go down into the brook, and lap up water with his tongue, while the horse drank.

While the horse was drinking, Rollo came along the road, and George asked him how his garden came on.

“O, very well,” said Rollo. “Father is going to give me a larger one next year.”

“Have you got a strawberry-bed?” said George.

“No,” said Rollo.

“I should think you would have a strawberry-bed. My father will give you some plants, and you can set them out this fall.”

“I don't know how to set them out,” said Rollo. “Could you come and show me?”

George said he would ask his father; and then, as his horse had done drinking, he turned round, and rode home again.

Mr. Cropwell said that he would give Rollo a plenty of strawberry-plants, and, as to George's helping him set them out, he said that they might exchange works. If Rollo would come and help George gather his meadow-russets, George might go and help him make his strawberry-bed. That evening, George went and told Rollo of this plan, and Rollo's father approved of it. So it was agreed that, the next day, he should go to help them gather the russets. They invited James to go too.

The Pet Lamb

The next morning, James and Rollo went together to the farmer's. They found George at the gate waiting for them, with his dog Nappy. As the boys were walking along into the yard, George said that his dog Nappy was the best friend he had in the world, except his lamb.

“Your lamb!” said James; “have you got a lamb?”

“Yes, a most beautiful little lamb. When he was very little indeed, he was weak and sick, and father thought he would not live; and he told me I might have him if I wanted him. I made a bed for him in the corner of the kitchen.”

“O, I wish I had one,” said James. “Where is he now?”

“O, he is grown up large, and he plays around in the field behind the house. If I go out there with a little pan of milk, and call him so,—

Co-nan

,—he comes running up to me to get the milk.”

“I wish I could see him,” said James.

“Well, you can,” said George. “My sister Ann will go and show him to you.”

So George called his sister Ann, and asked her if she should be willing to go and show James and Rollo his lamb, while he went and got the little wagon ready to go for the apples.

Ann said she would, and she went into the house, and got a pan with a little milk in the bottom of it, and walked along carefully, James and Rollo following her. When they had got round to the other side of the house, they found there a little gate, leading out into a field where there were green grass and little clumps of trees.

Ann went carefully through. James and Rollo stopped to look. She walked on a little way, and looked around every where, but she saw no lamb. Presently she began to call out, as George had said, “

Co-nan

.”

In a minute or two, the lamb began to run towards her out of a little thicket of bushes; and it drank the milk out of the pan. James and Rollo were very much pleased, but they did not go towards the lamb. Ann let it drink all it wanted, and then it walked away.

Then James ran back to the yard. He found that George and Rollo had gone into the garden-house. He went in there after them, and found that they were getting a little wagon ready to draw out into the field. There were three barrels standing by the door of the garden-house, and George told them that they were to put their apples into them.

The Meadow-Russet

There was a beautiful meadow down a little way from Farmer Cropwell's house, and at the farther side of it, across a brook, there stood a very large old apple-tree, which bore a kind of apples called

russets

, and they called the tree the

meadow-russet

. These were the apples that the boys were going to gather. They soon got ready, and began to walk along the path towards the meadow. Two of them drew the wagon, and the others carried long poles to knock off the apples with.

As the party were descending the hill towards the meadow, they saw before them, coming around a turn in the path, a cart and oxen, with a large boy driving. They immediately began to call out to one another to turn out, some pulling one way and some the other, with much noise and vociferation. At last they got fairly out upon the grass, and the cart went by. The boy who was driving it said, as he went by, smiling,

“Who is the head of

that

gang?”

James and Rollo looked at him, wondering what he meant. George laughed.

“What does he mean?” said Rollo.

“He means,” said George, laughing, “that we make so much noise and confusion, that we cannot have any head.”

“Any head?” said James.

“Yes,—any master workman.”

“Why,” said Rollo, “do we need a master workman?”

“No,” said George, “I don't believe we do.”

So the boys went along until they came to the brook. They crossed the brook on a bridge of planks, and were very soon under the spreading branches of the great apple-tree.

The Harvesting Party.

Insubordination

The boys immediately began the work of getting down the apples. But, unluckily, there were but two poles, and they all wanted them. George had one, and James the other, and Rollo came up to James, and took hold of his pole, saying,

“Here, James, I will knock them down; you may pick them up and put them in the wagon.”

“No,” said James, holding fast to his pole; “no, I'd rather knock them down.”

“No,” said Rollo, “I can knock them down better.”

“But I got the pole first, and I ought to have it.”

Rollo, finding that James was not willing to give up his pole, left him, and went to George, and asked George to let him have the pole; but George said he was taller, and could use it better than Rollo.

Rollo was a little out of humor at this, and stood aside and looked on. James soon got tired of his pole, and laid it down; and then Rollo seized it, and began knocking the apples off of the tree. But it fatigued him very much to reach up so high; and, in fact, they all three got tired of the poles very soon, and began picking up the apples.

But they did not go on any more harmoniously with this than with the other. After Rollo and James had thrown in several apples, George came and turned them all out.

“You must not put them in so,” said he; “all the good and bad ones together.”

“How must we put them in?” asked Rollo.

“Why, first we must get a load of good, large, whole, round apples, and then a load of small and wormy ones. We only put the

good

ones into the barrels.”

“And what do you do with the little ones?” said James.

“O, we give them to the pigs.”

“Well,” said Rollo, “we can pick them all up together now, and separate them when we get home.”

As he said this, he threw in a handful of small apples among the good ones which George had been putting in.

“Be still,” said George; “you must not do so. I tell you we must not mix them at all.” And he poured the apples out upon the ground again.

“O, I'll tell you what we will do,” said James; “we will get a load of little ones first, and then the big ones. I want to see the pigs eat them up.”

But George thought it was best to take the big ones first, and so they had quite a discussion about it, and a great deal of time was lost before they could agree.

Thus they went on for some time, discussing every thing, and each wanting to do the work in his own way. They did not dispute much, it is true, for neither of them wished to make difficulty. But each thought he might direct as well as the others, and so they had much talk and clamor, and but very little work. When one wanted the wagon to be on one side of the tree, the others wanted it the other; and when George thought it was time to draw the load along towards home, Rollo and James thought it was not nearly full enough. So they were all pulling in different directions, and made very slow progress in their work. It took them a long time to get their wagon full.

When they got the load ready, and were fairly set off on the road, they went on smoothly and pleasantly for a time, until they got up near the door of the garden-house, when Rollo was going to turn the wagon round so as to back it up to the door, and George began to pull in the other direction.

“Not so, Rollo,” said George; “go right up straight.”

“No,” said Rollo, “it is better to

back

it up.”

James had something to say, too; and they all pulled, and talked loud and all together, so that there was nothing but noise and clamor. In the mean time, the wagon, being pulled every way, of course did not move at all.

Subordination

Presently Farmer Cropwell made his appearance at the door of the garden-house.

“Well, boys,” said he, “you seem to be pretty good-natured, and I am glad of that; but you are certainly the

noisiest

workmen, of your size, that I ever heard.”

“Why, father,” said George, “I want to go right up to the door, straight, and Rollo won't let me.”

“Must not we back it up?” said Rollo.

“Is that the way you have been working all the morning?” said the farmer.

“How?” said George.

“Why, all generals and no soldiers.”

“Sir?” said George.

“All of you commanding, and none obeying. There is nothing but confusion and noise. I don't see how you can gather apples so. How many have you got in?”

So saying, he went and looked into the barrels.

“None,” said he; “I thought so.”

He stood still a minute, as if thinking what to do; and then he told them to leave the wagon there, and go with him, and he would show them the way to work.

The boys accordingly walked along after him, through the garden-house, into the yard. They then went across the road, and down behind a barn, to a place where some men were building a stone bridge. They stopped upon a bank at some distance, and looked down upon them.

“There,” said he, “see how men work!”

It happened, at that time, that all the men were engaged in moving a great stone with iron bars. There was scarcely any thing said by any of them. Every thing went on silently, but the stone moved regularly into its place.

“Now, boys, do you understand,” said the farmer, “how they get along so quietly?”

“Why, it is because they are men, and not boys,” said Rollo.

“No,” said the farmer, “that is not the reason. It is because they have a head.”

“A head?” said Rollo.

“Yes,” said he, “a head; that is, one man to direct, and the rest obey.”

“Which is it?” said George.

“It is that man who is pointing now,” said the farmer, “to another stone. He is telling them which to take next. Watch them now, and you will see that he directs every thing, and the rest do just as he says. But you are all directing and commanding together, and there is nobody to obey. If you were moving those stones, you would be all advising and disputing together, and pulling in every direction at once, and the stone would not move at all.”

There, Said He, See How