“I cannot find it,” he replied.
“Find what, Fritz? What have you lost?”
“I cannot find the North Star,” he said, sadly.
“Don’t you know where to look for it?”
“Oh, yes; but it is always cloudy.”
At that moment the clouds began to move—not because Fritz wished it, but his patience had outstayed the clouds.
“There it is. That’s it,” he exclaimed, as he ran into the stable, leaving me standing alone star-gazing to no purpose. But Fritz rejoined me as abruptly as he had left me. He had brought out with him a square board with an iron rod running through it.
“What have you there?” I questioned him.
“It is my sun-dial; it is my own invention. I have never seen a sun-dial, but I am sure that mine will be as correct as any of them.”