“That reminds me,” said Fred, “that I have brought with me all the money that the baskets sold for; and now we will settle up the affairs of our company.”
He pulled a paper from his pocket, which contained an account of the number of baskets he and John had made, and the result of the sale.
Charlie then took from his drawer a book, the leaves of which were made of birch bark, in which was the account of all he had made, and delivered to them. Part of them had been sold at the store for half money and half in goods. Charlie wished to share equally, but to that the others would not consent, because they said that he had made the greater part of the baskets, and also taught them the trade. Charlie’s part of the proceeds accounted to ten dollars in money, besides his credit at the store. He had never before, in all his life, been in possession of so much money, and, overjoyed, ran to tell his mother.
“Now, Charlie,” said she, “do you use that money to buy things that you want and need, and don’t go to buying pigs, and spending it for us or the baby.”
“I’ll have a knife,” said Charlie, “at any rate, and then I shan’t have to be all the time borrowing father’s, or using a butcher’s knife. I’ll have some tools, too, to put in my drawers; but I think I ought to help father pay for the island; I think it’s dreadful to pay rent.”
“Never mind that, Charlie; Ben can pay for the island fast enough.”
“Mother, you don’t know how many things I’ve thought about, while I’ve been sitting under the old maple this summer, that I would make for you to have in the house, when I got my money for the baskets, and could get some tools of my own. Mother, you don’t know how glad I am we have got just such a house as we have, where there’s no end of things to make, and things to do; also, a barn to build, the land to clear, and the house to finish. Now, if all this was done, there would be no fun—nothing new to look forward to; one day would be just like another. You couldn’t look at things after you’d made them, and say, That is my work; I took it out of the rough; that’s mine, for I made it; but, however nice it might look, you’d have to think it was somebody’s else wit and grit did it. That would take all the good out of it for me. I’m sure I think more of my canoe than I should of ever so nice a one that anybody made and gave me.”
“That is true, Charlie,” said Sally, delighted with sentiments so much in accordance with her own feelings. “I’m sure, if we had sheep, and flax, and pasturage, and I had a loom, and the house full of blankets, and sheets, and nice things, all given to us, I shouldn’t be half so happy as I am in trying to get them. I tell you, Charlie, the more you have to do, the more you can do. There’s nothing like having something ahead to make you work, and stick to it.”
“Yes, mother; it makes a fellow spit on his hands and hold on. I know that’s so; because, sometimes I want Rover to go to the woods, and he won’t; I switch him, and he won’t; I push him, and he won’t; then I put some acorns in my pocket and run ahead, and he’ll get there as soon as I do.”
When he returned to the boys he said, “I’ll bet that if you do shoot with a gun better than I, that I can beat you both with a bow. I can hit a mark at twenty yards with this bow, oftener than you can at thirty with your guns. I’ll bet you the bow and arrows against two gun-flints and two charges of powder, that I do it.”