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.