One pleasant morning in the autumn, when Rollo was about five years old, he was sitting on the platform, behind his father's house, playing. He had a hammer and nails, and some small pieces of board. He was trying to make a box. He hammered and hammered, and presently he dropped his work down and said, fretfully, O dear me "What is the matter, Rollo?" said Jonas, -for it happened that Jonas was going by just then, with a wheelbarrow. I wish these little boards would not split so. I cannot make my box. You drive the nails wrong; you put the wedge sides with the grain. The wedge sides " said Rollo; "what are the wedge sides, and the grain? I do not know what you mean". But Jonas went on, trundling his wheelbarrow; though he looked round and told Rollo that he could not stop to explain it to him then.
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