The boys determined to try the plan, and, after putting their first load of apples into the barrel, they set off again under George's command. He told Rollo and James to draw the wagon, while he ran along behind. When they got to the tree, Rollo took up a pole, and began to beat down some more apples; but George told him that they must first pick up what were knocked down before; and he drew the wagon round to the place where he thought it was best for it to stand. The other boys made no objection, but worked industriously, picking up all the small and worm-eaten apples they could find; and, in a very short time, they had the wagon loaded, and were on their way to the house again.

Still, Rollo and James had to make so great an effort to avoid interfering with George's directions, that they did not really enjoy this trip quite so well as they did the first. It was pleasant to them to be more at liberty, and they thought, on the whole, that they did not like having a head quite so well as being without one.

Instead of going up to the garden-house, George ordered them to take this load to the barn, to put it in a bin where all such apples were to go. When they came back, the farmer came again to the door of the garden-house.

“Well, boys,” said he, “you have come rather quicker this time. How do you like that way of working?”

“Why, not quite so well,” said Rollo. “I do not think it is so pleasant as the other way.”

“It is not such good play, perhaps; but don't you think it makes better work?” said he.

The boys admitted that they got their apples in faster, and, as they were at work then, and not at play, they resolved to continue the plan.

Farmer Cropwell then asked who was to take command the next time.

“Rollo,” said the boys.

“Well, Rollo,” said he, “I want you to have a large number of apples knocked down this time, and then select from them the largest and nicest you can. I want one load for a particular purpose.”

A Present

The boys worked on industriously, and, before dinner-time, they had gathered all the apples. The load of best apples, which the farmer had requested them to bring for a particular purpose, were put into a small square box, until it was full, and then a cover was nailed on; the rest were laid upon the great bench. When, at length, the work was all done, and they were ready to go home, the farmer put this box into the wagon, so that it stood up in the middle, leaving a considerable space before and behind it. He put the loose apples into this space, some before and some behind, until the wagon was full.

“Now, James and Rollo, I want you to draw these apples for me, when you go home,” said the farmer.

“Who are they for?” said Rollo.

“I will mark them,” said he.

So he took down a little curious-looking tin dipper, with a top sloping in all around, and with a hole in the middle of it. A long, slender brush-handle was standing up in this hole.

When he took out the brush, the boys saw that it was blacking. With this blacking-brush he wrote on the top of the box,—Lucy.

“Is that box for my cousin Lucy?” said Rollo.

“Yes,” said he; “you can draw it to her, can you not?”

“Yes, sir,” said Rollo, “we will. And who are the other apples for? You cannot mark them.”

“No,” said the farmer; “but you will remember. Those before the box are for you, and those behind it for James. So drive along. George will come to your house, this afternoon, with the strawberry plants, and then he can bring the wagon home.”

The Strawberry-Bed

George Cropwell came, soon after, to Rollo's house, and helped him make a fine strawberry-bed, which, he said, he thought would bear considerably the next year. They dug up the ground, raked it over carefully, and then put in the plants in rows.

After it was all done, Rollo got permission of his father to go back with George to take the wagon home; and George proposed to take Rollo's wheelbarrow too. He had never seen such a pretty little wheelbarrow, and was very much pleased with it. So George ran on before, trundling the wheelbarrow, and Rollo came after, drawing the wagon.

Just as they came near the farmer's house, George saw, on before him, a ragged little boy, much smaller than Rollo, who was walking along barefooted.

“There's Tom,” said George.

“Who?” said Rollo.

“Tom. See how I will frighten him.”

As he said this, George darted forward with his wheelbarrow, and trundled it on directly towards Tom, as if he was going to run over him. Tom looked round, and then ran away, the wheelbarrow at his heels. He was frightened very much, and began to scream; and, just then, Farmer Cropwell, who at that moment happened to be coming up a lane, on the opposite side of the road, called out,

“George!”

George stopped his wheelbarrow.

“Is that right?” said the farmer.

“Why, I was not going to hurt him,” said George.

“You did hurt him—you frightened him.”

“Is frightening him hurting him, father?”

“Why, yes, it is giving him pain, and a very unpleasant kind of pain too.”

“I did not think of that,” said George.

“Besides,” said his father, “when you treat boys in that harsh, rough way, you make them your enemies; and it is a very bad plan to make enemies.”

“Enemies, father!” said George, laughing; “Tom could not do me any harm, if he was my enemy.”

“That makes me think of the story of the bear and the tomtit,” said the farmer; “and, if you and Rollo will jump up in the cart, I will tell it to you.”

Thus far, while they had been talking, the boys had walked along by the side of the road, keeping up with the farmer as he drove along in the cart. But now they jumped in, and sat down with the farmer on his seat, which was a board laid across from one side of the cart to the other. As soon as they were seated, the farmer began.

The Farmer's Story

“The story I was going to tell you, boys, is an old fable about making enemies. It is called ‘The Bear and the Tomtit.’ ”

“What is a tomtit?” said Rollo.

“It is a kind of a bird, a very little bird; but he sings pleasantly. Well, one pleasant summer's day, a wolf and a bear were taking a walk together in a lonely wood. They heard something singing.

“ ‘Brother,’ said the bear, ‘that is good singing: what sort of a bird do you think that may be?’

“ ‘That's a tomtit,’ said the wolf.

“ ‘I should like to see his nest,’ said the bear; ‘where do you think it is?’

“ ‘If we wait a little time, till his mate comes home, we shall see,’ said the wolf.

“The bear and the wolf walked backward and forward some time, till his mate came home with some food in her mouth for her children. The wolf and the bear watched her. She went to the tree where the bird was singing, and they together flew to a little grove just by, and went to their nest.

“ ‘Now,’ said the bear, ‘let us go and see.’

“ ‘No,’ said the wolf, ‘we must wait till the old birds have gone away again.’

“So they noticed the place, and walked away.

“They did not stay long, for the bear was very impatient to see the nest. They returned, and the bear scrambled up the tree, expecting to amuse himself finely by frightening the young tomtits.

“ ‘Take care,’ said the wolf; ‘you had better be careful. The tomtits are little; but little enemies are sometimes very troublesome.’

“ ‘Who is afraid of a tomtit?’ said the bear.

“So saying, he poked his great black nose into the nest.

“ ‘Who is here?’ said he; ‘what are you?’

“The poor birds screamed out with terror. ‘Go away! Go away!’ said they.

“ ‘What do you mean by making such a noise,’ said he, ‘and talking so to me? I will teach you better.’ So he put his great paw on the nest, and crowded it down until the poor little birds were almost stifled. Presently he left them, and went away.

“The young tomtits were terribly frightened, and some of them were hurt. As soon as the bear was gone, their fright gave way to anger; and, soon after, the old birds came home, and were very indignant too. They used to see the bear, occasionally, prowling about the woods, but did not know what they could do to bring him to punishment.

“Now, there was a famous glen, surrounded by high rocks, where the bear used to go and sleep, because it was a wild, solitary place. The tomtits often saw him there. One day, the bear was prowling around, and he saw, at a great distance, two huntsmen, with guns, coming towards the wood. He fled to his glen in dismay, though he thought he should be safe there.

“The tomtits were flying about there, and presently they saw the huntsmen. ‘Now,’ said one of them to the other, ‘is the time to get rid of the tyrant; you go and see if he is in his glen, and then come back to where you hear me singing.’

“So he flew about from tree to tree, keeping in sight of the huntsmen, and singing all the time; while the other went and found that the bear was in his glen, crouched down in terror behind a rock.

“The tomtits then began to flutter around the huntsmen, and fly a little way towards the glen, and then back again. This attracted the notice of the men, and they followed them to see what could be the matter.

“By and by, the bear saw the terrible huntsmen coming, led on by his little enemies, the tomtits. He sprang forward, and ran from one side of the glen to the other; but he could not escape. They shot him with two bullets through his head.

“The wolf happened to be near by, at that time, upon the rocks that were around the glen; and, hearing all this noise, he came and peeped over. As soon as he saw how the case stood, he thought it would be most prudent for him to walk away; which he did, saying, as he went.

“ ‘Well, the bear has found out that it is better to have a person a friend than an enemy, whether he is great or small.’ ”

Here the farmer paused—he had ended the story.

“And what did they do with the bear?” said Rollo.

“O, they took off his skin to make caps of, and nailed his claws up on the barn.”

Georgie

The Little Landing

A short distance from where Rollo lives, there is a small, but very pleasant house, just under the hill, where you go down to the stone bridge leading over the brook. There is a noble large apple tree on one side of the house, which bears a beautiful, sweet, and mellow kind of apple, called golden pippins. A great many other trees and flowers are around the house, and in the little garden on the side of it towards the brook. There is a small white gate that leads to the house, from the road; and there is a pleasant path leading right out from the front door, through the garden, down to the water. This is the house that Georgie lives in.

One evening, just before sunset, Rollo was coming along over the stone bridge, towards home. He stopped a moment to look over the railing, down into the water. Presently he heard a very sweet-toned voice calling out to him,

“Rol-lo.”

Rollo looked along in the direction in which the sound came. It was from the bank of the stream, a little way from the road, at the place where the path from Georgie's house came down to the water. The brook was broad, and the water pretty smooth and still here; and it was a place where Rollo had often been to sail boats with Georgie. There was a little smooth, sandy place on the shore, at the foot of the path, and they used to call it Georgie's landing; and there was a seat close by, under the bushes.

Rollo thought it was Georgie's voice that called him, and in a minute, he saw him sitting on his little seat, with his crutches by his side. Georgie was a sick boy. He could not walk, but had to sit almost all day, at home, in a large easy chair, which his father had bought for him. In the winter, his chair was established in a particular corner, by the side of the fire, and he had a little case of shelves and drawers, painted green, by the side of him. In these shelves and drawers he had his books and playthings,—his pen and ink,—his paint-box, brushes and pencils,—his knife, and a little saw,—and a great many things which he used to make for his amusement. Then, in the summer, his chair, and his shelves and drawers, were moved to the end window, which looked out upon the garden and brook. Sometimes, when he was better than usual, he could move about a little upon crutches; and, at such times, when it was pleasant, he used to go out into the garden, and down, through it, to his landing, at the brook.

Georgie had been sick a great many years, and when Rollo and Jonas first knew him, he used to be very sad and unhappy. It was because the poor little fellow had nothing to do. His father had to work pretty hard to get food and clothing for his family; he loved little Georgie very much, but he could not buy him many things. Sometimes people who visited him, used to give him playthings, and they would amuse him a little while, but he soon grew tired of them, and had them put away. It is very hard for any body to be happy who has not any thing to do.

It was Jonas that taught Georgie what to do. He lent him his knife, and brought him some smooth, soft, pine wood, and taught him to make wind-mills and little boxes. Georgie liked this very much, and used to sit by his window in the summer mornings, and make playthings, hours at a time. After he had made several things, Jonas told the boys that lived about there, that they had better buy them of him, when they had a few cents to spend for toys; and they did. In fact, they liked the little windmills, and wagons, and small framed houses that Georgie made, better than sugar-plums and candy. Besides, they liked to go and see Georgie; for, whenever they went to buy any thing of him, he looked so contented and happy, sitting in his easy chair, with his small and slender feet drawn up under him, and his work on the table by his side.

Then he was a very beautiful boy too. His face was delicate and pale, but there was such a kind and gentle expression in his mild blue eye, and so much sweetness in the tone of his voice, that they loved very much to go and see him. In fact, all the boys were very fond of Georgie.

Georgie's Money

Georgie, at length, earned, in this way, quite a little sum of money. It was nearly all in cents; but then there was one fourpence which a lady gave him for a four-wheeled wagon that he made. He kept this money in a corner of his drawer, and, at last, there was quite a handful of it.

One summer evening, when Georgie's father came home from his work, he hung up his hat, and came and sat down in Georgie's corner, by the side of his little boy. Georgie looked up to him with a smile.

“Well, father,” said he, “are you tired to-night?”

“You are the one to be tired, Georgie,” said he, “sitting here alone all day.”

“Hold up your hand, father,” said Georgie, reaching out his own at the same time, which was shut up, and appeared to have something in it.

“Why, what have you got for me?” said his father.

“Hold fast all I give you,” replied he; and he dropped the money all into his father's hand, and shut up his father's fingers over it.

“What is all this?” said his father.

“It is my money,” said he, “for you. It is 'most all cents, but then there is one fourpence.”

“I am sure, I am much obliged to you, Georgie, for this.”

“O no,” said Georgie, “it's only a little of what you have to spend for me.”

Georgie's father took the money, and put it in his pocket, and the next day he went to Jonas, and told him about it, and asked Jonas to spend it in buying such things as he thought would be useful to Georgie; either playthings, or tools, or materials to work with.

Jonas said he should be very glad to do it, for he thought he could buy him some things that would help him very much in his work. Jonas carried the money into the city the next time he went, and bought him a small hone to sharpen his knife, a fine-toothed saw, and a bottle of black varnish, with a little brush, to put it on with. He brought these things home, and gave them to Georgie's father; and he carried them into the house, and put them in a drawer.

That evening, when Georgie was at supper, his father slyly put the things that Jonas had bought on his table, so that when he went back, after supper, he found them there. He was very much surprised and pleased. He examined them all very particularly, and was especially glad to have the black varnish, for now he could varnish his work, and make it look much more handsome. The little boxes that he made, after this, of a bright black outside, and lined neatly with paper within, were thought by the boys to be elegant.

He could now earn money faster, and, as his father insisted on having all his earnings expended for articles for Georgie's own use, and Jonas used to help him about expending it, he got, at last, quite a variety of implements and articles. He had some wire, and a little pair of pliers for bending it in all shapes, and a hammer and little nails. He had also a paint-box and brushes, and paper of various colors, for lining boxes, and making portfolios and pocket-books; and he had varnishes, red, green, blue, and black. All these he kept in his drawers and shelves, and made a great many ingenious things with them.

So Georgie was a great friend of both Rollo and Jonas, and they often used to come and see him, and play with him; and that was the reason that Rollo knew his voice so well, when he called to him from the landing, when Rollo was standing on the bridge, as described in the beginning of this story.

Two Good Friends

Rollo ran along to the end of the bridge, clambered down to the water's edge, went along the shore among the trees and shrubbery, until he came to the seat where Georgie was sitting. Georgie asked him to sit down, and stay with him; but Rollo said he must go directly home; and so Georgie took his crutches, and they began to walk slowly together up the garden walk.

“Where have you been, Rollo?” said Georgie.

“I have been to see my cousin James, to ask him to go to the city with us to-morrow.”

“Are you going to the city?”

“Yes; uncle George gave James and I a half a dollar apiece, the other day; and mother is going to carry us into the city to-morrow to buy something with it.”

“Is Jonas going with you?”

“Yes,” said Rollo. “He is going to drive. We are going in our carryall.”

“I wish you would take some money for me, then, and get Jonas to buy me something with it.”

“Well, I will,” said Rollo. “What shall he buy for you?”

“O, he may buy any thing he chooses.”

“Yes, but if you do not tell him what to buy, he may buy something you have got already.”

“O, Jonas knows every thing I have got as well as I do.”

Just then they came up near the house, and Georgie asked Rollo to look up at the golden pippin tree, and see how full it was.

“That is my branch,” said he.

He pointed to a large branch which came out on one side, and which hung down loaded with fruit. It would have broken down, perhaps, if there had not been a crotched pole put under it, to prop it up.

“But all the apples on your branch are not golden pippins,” said Rollo. “There are some on it that are red. What beautiful red apples!”

“Yes,” said Georgie. “Father grafted that for me, to make it bear rosy-boys. I call the red ones my rosy-boys.”

“Grafted?” said Rollo; “how did he graft it?”

“O,” said Georgie, “I do not know exactly. He cut off a little branch from a rosy-boy tree, and stuck it on somehow, and it grew, and bears rosy-boys still.”

Rollo thought this was very curious; Georgie told him he would give him an apple, and that he might have his choice—a pippin or a rosy-boy.

Rollo hesitated, and looked at them, first at one, and then at another; but he could not decide. The rosy-boys had the brightest and most beautiful color, but then the pippins looked so rich and mellow, that he could not choose very easily; and so Georgie laughed, find told him he would settle the difficulty by giving him one of each.

“So come here,” said he, “Rollo, and let me lean on you, while I knock them down.”

So Rollo came and stood near him, while Georgie leaned on him, and with his crutch gave a gentle tap to one of each of his kinds of apples, and they fell down upon the soft grass, safe and sound.

Georgie's Apples.

They then went into the house, and Georgie gave Rollo his money, wrapped up in a small piece of paper; and then Rollo, bidding him good by, went out of the little white gate, and walked along home.

The next morning, soon after breakfast, Jonas drove the carryall up to the front door, and Rollo and his mother walked out to it. Rollo's mother took the back seat, and Rollo and Jonas sat in front, and they drove along.

They called at the house where James lived, and found him waiting for them on the front steps, with his half dollar in his hand.

He ran into the house to tell his mother that the carryall had come, and to bid her good morning, and then he came out to the gate.

“James,” said Rollo, “you may sit on the front seat with Jonas, if you want to.”

James said he should like to very much; and so Rollo stepped over behind, and sat with his mother. This was kind and polite; for boys all like the front seat when they are riding, and Rollo therefore did right to offer it to his cousin.