"Boys," said he, "what are you doing there?"
"Nothing, Sir," said Hal; "you were called away from us, and we did not know which way to go."
"And have you nothing to do?" said Mr. Gresham.
"No, Sir, nothing," answered Hal, in a careless tone, like one who was well content with the state of habitual idleness.
"No, Sir, nothing!" replied Ben, in a voice of lamentation.
"Come," said Mr. Gresham, "if you have nothing to do, lads, will you unpack these two parcels for me?"
The two parcels were exactly alike, both of them well tied up with good whipcord. Ben took his parcel to a table, and, after breaking off the sealing wax, began carefully to examine the knot, and then to untie it. Hal stood still exactly in the spot where the parcel was put into his hands, and tried first at one corner, and then at another, to pull the string off by force: "I wish these people wouldn't tie up their parcels so tight, as if they were never to be undone," cried he, as he tugged at the cord; and he pulled the knot closer instead of loosening it.
"Ben! why how did you get yours undone, man? What's in your parcel? I wonder what is in mine! I wish I could get this string off—I must cut it."
"Oh, no," said Ben, who now had undone the last knot of his parcel, and who drew out the length of string with exultation, "don't cut it, Hal—look what a nice cord this is, and yours is the same; it's a pity to cut it; 'Waste not, want not!' you know."
"Pooh!" said Hal, "what signifies a bit of pack-thread?"