fenced in with his stakes, about as large round as a boy’s hoop. It was all fenced, excepting in one place, which he left open to get the turtle through.
The two children then contrived, by means of two long sticks, which Royal cut from among the bushes, to get the turtle into his prison. The poor reptile hardly knew what to make of such treatment. He went tumbling along through the water, half pushed, half driven.
When he was fairly in, Royal drove down the last stake in the vacant space which had been left. The turtle swam about, pushing his head against the bars in several places; and when he found that he could not get out, he remained quietly in the middle.
“There,” said Royal, “that will do. Now I wish Miss Anne would come down here, and see him. I should like to see what she would say.”
Miss Anne did come down after a while; and when the children saw her descending the path, they called out to her aloud to come there and see. She came, and when she reached the bank opposite to the turtle pen, she stood still for a few minutes, looking at it, with a smile of curiosity and interest upon her face; but she did not speak a word.
CONVERSATION IV
A PRISONER
After a little while, they all left the turtle, and went rambling around, among the rocks and trees. At last Royal called out to them to come to a large tree, where he was standing. He was looking up into it. Lucy ran fast; she thought it was a bird’s nest. Miss Anne came along afterwards, singing. Royal showed them a long, straight branch, which extended out horizontally from the tree, and said that it would be an excellent place to make a swing.
“So it would,” said Miss Anne, “if we only had a rope.”
“I’ve got a rope at home,” said Royal, “if Lucy would only go and get it, – while I cut off some of the small branches, which are in the way.
“Come, Lucy,” he continued, “go and get my rope. It is hanging up in the shed.”
“O no,” said Lucy; “I can’t reach it.”
“O, you can get a chair,” said Royal; “or Joanna will hand it to you; she will be close by, in the kitchen. Come, Lucy, go, that is a good girl; and I’ll pay you.”
“What will you give me?” said Lucy.
“O, I don’t know; but I’ll give you something.”
But Lucy did not seem quite inclined to go. She said she did not want to go so far alone; though, in fact, it was only a very short distance. Besides, she had not much confidence in Royal’s promise.
“Will you go, Lucy, if I will promise to give you something?” said Miss Anne.
“Yes,” said Lucy.
“Well, I will,” said Miss Anne; “I can’t tell you what, now, for I don’t know; but it shall be something you will like.
“But, Royal,” she added, “what shall we do for a seat in our swing?”
“Why, we must have a board – a short board, with two notches. I know how to cut them.”
“Yes, if you only had a board; but there are no boards down here. I think you had better go with Lucy, and then you can bring down a board.”
Royal said that it would take some time to saw off the board, and cut the notches; and, finally, they concluded to postpone making the swing until the next time they came down to the glen; and then they would bring down whatever should be necessary, with them.
As they were walking slowly along, after this, towards home, Royal said something about Lucy’s not being willing to go for his promise, as well as for Miss Anne’s, – which led to the following conversation: —
Lucy. I don’t believe you were going to give me anything at all.
Royal. O Lucy! – I was, – I certainly was.
Lucy. Then I don’t believe that it would be anything that I should like.
Royal. But I don’t see how you could tell anything about it, unless you knew what it was going to be.
Lucy. I don’t believe it would be anything; do you, Miss Anne?
Miss Anne. I don’t know anything about it. I should not think that Royal would break his promise.
Lucy. He does break his promises. He won’t mend old Margaret’s nose.
Royal. Well, Lucy, that is because my putty has all dried up. I am going to do it, just as soon as I can get any more putty.
Lucy. And that makes me think about the thing in your cap. I mean to ask Miss Anne if you did not tell a falsehood. He said there was something in his cap, and there was nothing in it at all. It was only on the great, flat stone.
Royal. O, under, Lucy, under. I certainly said under.
Lucy. Well, you meant in; I know you did. Wasn’t it a falsehood?
Miss Anne. Did he say in, or under?
Royal. Under, under; it was certainly under.
Miss Anne. Then I don’t think it was exactly a falsehood.
Lucy. Well, it was as bad as a falsehood, at any rate.
Royal. Was it as bad as a falsehood, Miss Anne?
Miss Anne. Let us consider a little. Lucy, what do you think? Suppose he had said that there was really something in his cap, – do you think it would have been no worse?
Lucy. I don’t know.
Miss Anne. I think it would have been worse.
Royal. Yes, a great deal worse.
Miss Anne. He deceived you, perhaps, but he did not tell a falsehood.
Lucy. Well, Miss Anne, and isn’t it wrong for him to deceive me?
Miss Anne. I think it was unwise, at any rate.
Royal. Why was it unwise, Miss Anne? I wanted her to come out, and I knew she would like to be out there, if she would only once come. Besides, I thought it would make her laugh when I came to lift up my cap and show her that great, flat stone.
Miss Anne. And did she laugh?
Royal. Why, not much. She said she meant to go right into the house again.
Miss Anne. Instead of being pleased with the wit, she was displeased at being imposed upon.
Royal laughed.
Miss Anne. The truth is, Royal, that, though it is rather easier, sometimes, to get along by wit than by honesty, yet you generally have to pay for it afterwards.
Royal. How do we have to pay for it?
Miss Anne. Why, Lucy has lost her
