Marco cast his eyes occasionally toward the office, expecting to see Forester come out. He thought Forester would want to know whether he went a-fishing or not. But he did not come. Marco spent some time in the garden with James, who was at work there raking over the ground, and gathering in such things as might be hurt by any sudden frost. Marco worked with him for some time, and endeavored to converse with him, but he did not find him very communicative, and at last he went into the house and sat on the sofa in the parlor, reading, until supper time.
Marco fully expected that Forester would ask him at supper time whether he had been a-fishing or not; but he said nothing about it. Forester told his father and mother about their plan for a boat, and gave them a full account of their visit to the mill. His mother seemed quite interested in the account, and told Marco, that, after he got his crew well trained, she should hope that he would invite her on an excursion in the boat.
"Yes," said Marco, "we will. We must have a seat, cousin Forester, for passengers and visitors, in the stern sheets."
"The stern sheets?" said Forester, "what do you mean by the stern sheets?"
"Why, it is aft," said Marco, "between the coxswain's place and the stroke-oarsman."
"You'll have to show us," said his aunt, "when we come to see the boat."
This kind of conversation somewhat relieved Marco's mind,-but still he was ill at ease, and he determined to tell Forester the whole story at bedtime, if he could only summon up courage to begin.
Chapter VIII. A Confession.
In the room where Marco slept, there was a large, stuffed arm-chair, which was commonly called the easy chair; it was one that was seldom used by the family, except in sickness. It stood in a corner of the room not far from the head of Marco's bed. Forester used to sit in this chair while he remained conversing with Marco, when he came up to take his light.
When Forester had taken his seat in the great chair this evening, according to his usual custom, he began his conversation by saying.
"Well, Marco, have you been helping James in the garden this afternoon?"
"Why, no," said Marco, "I did not help him much,-I don't like James very well."
"Why not?" asked Forester.
"Why, I don't think he is very accommodating," replied Marco.
"What has he done to-day, which is unaccommodating?" asked Forester.
"He would not lend me his knife. I wanted to borrow his knife to cut me a cane from some apple-tree trimmings, and he would not let me have it."
"Haven't you got a knife of your own?" asked Forester.
"Yes," said Marco, "but mine won't open."
"Won't open?" repeated Forester. "What's the cause of that?"
"Why, I suppose because the joint is rusty," replied Marco.
"How came it rusty?" asked Forester.
"Why, you see I laid it down one day on a stone, where I was at work with it, and left it there, and there happened to come a rain in the night and rusted it. I did not know where it was, and so I didn't find it for a good many days."
"Then, I presume," said Forester, "that James supposed that you would leave his knife out in the same way and spoil it."
"No," replied Marco, "that was not the reason."
"You are sure that you asked him for it distinctly, and he refused?"
"Yes," said Marco.
Here there was a moment's pause. Marco thought that his cousin Forester was considering what should be done to James, for being so unaccommodating. He did not know but that he would report him to his father and have him turned away; though Marco did not really wish to have him turned away.
But Forester said, after reflecting a moment, "That makes me think of a story I have got here; listen and hear it."
[Illustration: MARCO'S ROOM.]
So Forester took out his pocket-book and opened it, and then appeared to be turning over the leaves, for a moment, to find a place. Then he began to read, or to appear to read, as follows:
Once there was a little girl named Anne. She came to her mother one day, as she was sitting in the parlor, and began to complain bitterly of her sister Mary. Her sister Mary was older than she was, and had a doll. Anne complained that Mary would not lend her her doll.
"Are you sure that she refused to lend you her doll?" asked her mother.
"Yes, mother, I am sure she did," replied Anne.
"Perhaps she is playing with it herself," said her mother.
"No," replied Anne, "she is ironing in the kitchen."
"I think you must be mistaken," said her mother. "Go and ask her again. Don't tell her I sent you, but ask her yourself, whether she really meant that she was not willing to lend you her doll."
So Anne ran off to put the question to Mary again; presently she returned with the same answer. "Mary," she said, "would not lend it to her."
"I am very sorry to hear it," said her mother, "for now I suppose I shall have to punish you."
"To punish her, you mean," said Anne.
"No," said her mother, "to punish you. I don't suppose she is to blame."
"Why, mother-how can I be to blame, for her not being willing to lend me her doll?"
"You are, I've no doubt," said her mother. "Mary is a good-natured, accommodating girl,-always ready to do kindnesses, and if she has any unwillingness to lend any thing to you, it must be that you have created it yourself, by some misconduct. So that it will prove, no doubt, that you are the one to be punished."
Here Anne began to hang her head and look a little ashamed. Her mother's supposition proved to be correct, for, on inquiring, it appeared that Mary had lent her doll to Anne a few days before, and that when she wanted it again, Anne was unwilling to give it to her, and when Mary insisted on her bringing it to her, she became angry and threw the doll out the window.
"I never heard that story before, cousin Forester," said Marco. "And I did not know that you had stories in your pocket-book."
Forester laughed and put up his pocket-book.
"I don't believe there is any story there," said Marco. "You made it up for me, I verily believe."
"Yes," said Forester, "I did. Don't it fit your case pretty well?"
"Why, I don't know," said Marco. "I don't see why he could not let me have his knife."
"Suppose I had asked him for his knife; don't you suppose he would have lent it to me?"
"Yes," said Marco, "I've no doubt he would; he would do any thing for you, of course, because you pay him-or uncle pays him, which is the same thing."
"I don't think that that is the reason altogether," replied Forester. "There was the man at the mill to-day, who said that I might take his boat and do any thing I chose to do with it."
"Yes," said Marco, "I noticed that."
"And perhaps you thought it was very much to his credit that he did so."
"Yes," said Marco.
"But the fact is," rejoined Forester, "as I think, it was more to my credit than his; because I have had his boat a great many times heretofore, and his having so much confidence in me now, shows how I have acted with his property before. I have always taken a great deal of pains to use it carefully, to bring it back to its place safely, to get the water out, if there was any in it, and leave every thing in order. I have done this, not only because it is just and right that I should not make him suffer inconvenience on account of his doing me a favor, but as a matter of policy."
"What do you mean by a matter of policy?" asked Marco.
"Why, regard to my own interest. If I did not do so, I should soon make people unwilling to lend me their things. And I think there must be some good reason why James is not willing to lend you his knife."