In the same manner, Rollo split two or three other pieces off from his board, and then Nathan wanted him to let him split one. Rollo was at first somewhat unwilling to let his little beetle go out of his hand at all, he was so interested in using it; but considering that it would give Nathan a good deal of pleasure, he concluded to let him try it once.
"I will start it for you, Thanny," said he. And he accordingly made a small cleft by driving in his knife; and then he inserted the wedge, and drove that in too, just far enough to start the crack, and enable the wood to retain the wedge. Nathan then took the beetle, and pounded away.
He found that he could not strike such heavy blows as Rollo could, and yet the wedge gradually penetrated farther and farther, and the crack opened wider and wider, to Nathan's great delight. Rollo was himself gratified to see how much his little brother was pleased with his beetle and wedges. When the first wedge was driven fully in, he handed him the other, and showed him how to insert that into the crack made by the first wedge, at a little distance from it. Nathan then drove in the second wedge, and this soon finished the work, for it split the piece off entirely, and Nathan took it up, and looked at it, very much pleased at what he had done.
"Now," said Rollo, "give me the beetle again."
"No," said Nathan, "I want to split some more."
"O, no," said Rollo, in a tone of good-humored expostulation; "no; it is my beetle and wedge. I let you have it to split one stick off; but now you ought to let me have it again, immediately."
"No," said Nathan, "I want to split some more."
Rollo took up the two wedges, and would not let Nathan have them, and Nathan held the beetle away behind him so that Rollo should not have that. Thus they seemed to be in inextricable difficulty. Rollo did not know what to do.
"Nathan," said he, at length, after a pause, "give me my beetle."
"No," said Nathan, "I want to split."
"O, dear me!" said Rollo, with a sigh.
At first, he thought that he would take the beetle away from Nathan by force; but he reflected in a moment that this would be wrong, and so finally he concluded to go and state the case to his mother.
So he rose, and began to walk away, saying,
"Well, Nathan, I mean to go and tell mother, that you won't let me have my beetle."
Then Nathan, whose conscience secretly reproved him for what he was doing, pulled the beetle round from behind him, and threw it down upon the floor, where Rollo had been sitting. This was wrong. It was a very ill-natured way of giving it up. If he was satisfied that he was wrong, he ought to have handed it to Rollo pleasantly. Instead of that, he threw it down, with a sullen look, and sat still.
Then Rollo, thinking that it was now no longer necessary to go and trouble his mother with the difficulty, began to return. As he came back, he said, in a kind and soothing tone,
"Now, you are a good boy, Nathan. That is right-to give me back my beetle. Now I will let you split again, some time."
But Rollo was mistaken in supposing that Nathan was a good boy. Boys are not good until their hearts are right. When a child has something which he ought not to have, it is not enough for him to throw it down upon the floor, sullenly, because he is afraid to have his father or mother told that he has got it. He ought to give it up pleasantly, and feel that it is right that he should do so. If Nathan had said to himself, "I ought not to keep this beetle, for it is not mine-it is Rollo's; he made it, and he has been kind enough to lend it to me, and now I ought to be willing to give it back to him pleasantly again;" and then had given it to him with a pleasant countenance,-that would have been really being a good boy. But to throw it down in a pet, because he was afraid to have Rollo complain to his mother, was very far from being like a good boy.
However, it was very kind in Rollo to speak soothingly and pleasantly to Nathan; though, if he had reflected how much goodness depends upon the state of the heart, he would not have supposed that Nathan was yet a good boy. In fact, when he saw that Rollo was coming back again, and was not going to his mother, after standing still, looking quite sullen for a moment, he suddenly stooped down, seized Rollo's knife, and ran off with it out into the yard.
Rollo instantly pursued him, calling out, "Nathan! bring back my knife; Nathan! Nathan! give me my knife."
Nathan, however, ran on, though Rollo ran the fastest, and was rapidly overtaking him; and just at the instant before he reached him, Nathan's foot tripped; he fell, and as he threw forward his hands to try to save himself, they came down upon the ground, and his forehead struck the corner of the knife blade. He immediately screamed out with pain and terror. Dorothy, alarmed by his cries, came out, took him up in her arms, and carried him into the house.
She took him to the table, and began to bathe the wounded forehead in cold water. This was what she always did when the children got cut or scratched, or hurt in any such way. It prevents inflammation. She saw that Nathan was not hurt much, though he continued to cry very loud. His crying was, however, partly from pain, and partly from vexation.
In a few minutes, Rollo's mother came down stairs to see what was the matter. Rollo thought that his mother might suppose that he had hurt Nathan, and so he began to explain at once how it happened. But his mother held up her hand to him, as a signal for him to be silent. She knew that it was then no time to ascertain the facts.
She came up and looked at Nathan's forehead a moment, and she saw that it was not much hurt. Besides, she knew, by the sound of Nathan's cries, that they did not proceed from much pain. She therefore said to him, gently,
"Stop crying, Nathan!"
Now Nathan knew that his mother did not tell him not to cry, except when she was sure that he could control himself if he chose to do so; and he also knew that she punished him if he did not obey. So he began immediately to repress his sobs and cries, and very soon became still. She then put a small plaster, of some sort, upon his forehead, and then carried him up stairs and laid him on the bed.
"There," said she, "Thanny, lie still there a little while, till your forehead has done aching, and you get pleasant again; then you may get up, and come to me."
Then she went to her work again, and Rollo came and stood by her side, and told her the whole story.
"Nathan did wrong," said she; "but it would have been better for you not to have run after him."
"Why, mother," said Rollo, "he was running away with my knife; and I can't split at all without my knife. One thing I know,-I shall not let him split any more with my beetle and wedges."
"That would be one way to treat him," said his mother; "but there is another thing you might do, if you chose."
"What, mother?" asked Rollo.
"Why, make him a beetle and wedge, for his own."
"Why, mother!" said Rollo, with surprise.
"Yes," said she. "You might make him one. Think how pleased he would be with it. Then he could sit down with you, and you could both be splitting together."
"But, seems to me, mother, that that would be rewarding him for being a naughty boy."
"It would be so, if you were to make him a beetle and wedge, because he was a bad boy; but I proposed that you should make it for another reason, that is, to please him."
"But perhaps he would think I did it because he ran away with my knife," said Rollo.
"I don't think there is any danger that he would imagine that you did it as a reward for that," replied his mother.
Here Rollo paused a moment. He did not feel quite ready to undertake to make Nathan a beetle and wedges; but he did not know exactly how to reply to his mother's reasoning. At length he said, in a timid and hesitating voice,