target="_blank" rel="nofollow" href="#fb3_img_img_75a653cb-77f0-5f02-bdcc-51cc6cb74749.jpg" alt="ODD OR EVEN."/> ODD OR EVEN.
"Yes," said Waldron, "I can add nothing to one, and it makes one. So, I can take nothing away from one, and it leaves one.
"I can multiply nothing, too. I can multiply it by ten. Ten times nothing are nothing. So I can divide it. Five in nothing no times, and nothing over."
Rollo was somewhat perplexed by this argument, and he did not know what to reply. Still he would not admit that nothing was a number—still less that it was an odd number. He did not believe, he said, that it was any number at all. The boys continued the discussion[A] for some time, and then they concluded to go and refer it to Mr. George.
And here I ought to say that Waldron had an artful design in taking nothing in his hand, when he called upon Rollo to say, odd or even. He did it in order that whatever answer Rollo might give, he might attempt to prove it wrong. He was a very ingenious boy, and could as easily maintain that nothing was even as that it was odd. Whichever Rollo had said, his plan was to maintain the contrary, and so persuade him to go to the forecastle.
Mr. George was very much pleased when the boys brought the question to him. Indeed, almost all people are pleased when boys come to them in an amicable manner, to have their controversies settled. Then, besides, he inferred from the nature of the question that had arisen in this case, that Waldron was a boy of considerable thinking powers, or else he would not have taken any interest in a purely intellectual question like this.
"Well," said Mr. George, "that is quite a curious question. But before I decide it you must first both of you give me your reasons. What makes you think nothing is an odd number, Waldron?"
"I don't know," said Waldron, hesitating. "I think it looks kind of odd."
Mr. George smiled at this reason, and then asked Rollo what made him think it was an even number.
"I don't think it is an even number," said Rollo. "I don't think it is any number at all.
"However," continued Rollo, "that is not the real question, after all. The real question is, whether we shall go on the forecastle or not, to have a lookout."
"No," said Mr. George, "it is not according to etiquette at sea for the passengers to go on the forecastle."
"But they do," said Waldron.
"Yes," said Mr. George, "they sometimes do, I know; and sometimes, under peculiar circumstances, it is right for them to go; but as a general rule, it is not. That is the place for the sailors to occupy in working the ship. It is something like the kitchen in a hotel. What should you think of the guests at a hotel, if they went down into the kitchen to see what was going on there?"
Rollo laughed aloud.
"But we don't go to the forecastle to see what is going on there," said Waldron; "we go for a lookout—to see what is going on away ahead, on the water."
"True," said Mr. George, "and that is a very important difference, I acknowledge. I don't think my comparison holds good."
Mr. George was always very candid in all his arguing. It is of very great importance that all persons should be so, especially when reasoning with boys. It teaches them to be candid.
Just at this time Waldron's attention was attracted by the appearance of a very large steamer, which now came suddenly into view, with its great red funnel pouring out immense volumes of black smoke. Waldron ran over to the other side of the deck to see it. Rollo followed, and thus the explanation which Mr. George might have given, in respect to the arithmetical nature and relations of nothing were necessarily postponed to some future time.
About half an hour after this, while Rollo was sitting by the side of his uncle, looking at the map, and trying to find out how soon they should come in sight of the famous old Castle of Dunbarton, which stands on a rocky hill upon the banks of the Clyde, Mr. Kennedy came up to him to inquire if he knew where Waldron was.
Rollo said that he did not know. He had not seen him for some time.
"We can't find him any where," said Mr. Kennedy. "We have looked all over the ship. His mother is half crazy. She thinks he has fallen overboard."
So Rollo and Mr. George both rose immediately and went off to see if they could find Waldron. They went in various directions, inquiring of every body they met if they had seen such a boy. Several people had seen him half an hour before, when he was with Rollo; but no one knew where he had been since. At last, in about ten minutes, Rollo came running to Mrs. Kennedy, who was walking about through the cabins in great distress, and said, hurriedly, "I've found him; he is safe," and then ran off to tell Mr. Kennedy.
Mrs. Kennedy followed him, calling out eagerly, "Where is he? Where is he?" Rollo met Mr. Kennedy at the head of the cabin stairs, and he seemed very much rejoiced to learn that Waldron was found. Rollo led the way, and Mr. and Mrs. Kennedy followed him, until they came to a place on the deck, pretty well forward, where there was an opening surrounded by an iron railing, through which you could look down into the hold below. It was very far down that you could look, and at different distances on the way were to be seen iron ladders going from deck to deck, and ponderous shafts, moving continually, with great clangor and din, while at the bottom were seen the mouths of several great glowing furnaces, with men at work shovelling coal into them.
"There he is," said Rollo, pointing down.
Mr. and Mrs. Kennedy leaned over the railing and looked down, and there they beheld Waldron, hard at work shovelling coal into the mouth of a furnace, with a shovel which he had borrowed of one of the men. In a word, Waldron had turned stoker.
Mr. Kennedy hurried down the ladders to bring Waldron up, while Mr. George and Rollo went back to the deck.
About an hour after this Mr. Kennedy came and took a seat on a settee where Mr. George was sitting, and began to talk about Waldron.
"He is the greatest plague of my life," said Mr. Kennedy. "I don't know what I shall do with him. He is continually getting into some mischief. I have shut him up a close prisoner in the state room, and I am going to keep him there till we land. But it will do no good. It will not be an hour after he gets out before he will be in some new scrape. You know a great deal about boys; I wish you would tell me what to do with him."
"I think, if he was under my charge," said Mr. George, very quietly, "I should load him."
"Load him?" repeated Mr. Kennedy, inquiringly.
"Yes," said Mr. George, "I mean I should give him a load to carry."
"I don't understand, exactly," said Mr. Kennedy. "What is your idea?"
"My idea is," said Mr. George, "that a growing boy, especially if he is a boy of unusual capacity, is like a steam engine in this respect. A steam engine must always have a load to carry—that is, something to employ and absorb the force it is capable of exerting—or else it will break itself to pieces with it. The force will expend itself on something, and if you don't load it with something good, it will employ itself in mischief.
"Here now is the engine of this ship," continued Mr. George. "Its force is conducted to the paddle wheels, where it has full employment for itself in turning the wheels against the immense resistance of the
