“Quite right, Nat,” said Uncle Dick; “don’t take it.”
“Not take it!” said Uncle Joe in a disappointed tone.
“No; he does not want a watch, Joe. Where he is going he must make the sun his watch.”
“Yes,” said Uncle Joe quickly, “but how about the night?”
“Then he’ll have to sleep and rest himself for the next day’s work.”
“And how about getting up in good time?”
“Daylight’s the good time for getting up, Joe,” said Uncle Dick; “and the sun will tell him the time.”
“Ah!” cried Uncle Joe triumphantly, “but the sun does not always shine.”
“No, not here,” replied Uncle Dick. “You have too much smoke and fog. We are going where he shines almost too much. Here, put away your watch, Joe. It is of no use to a boy who will be journeying through the primeval forest, plunging through thorny undergrowth or bog, or fording rivers and letting his clothes dry on him afterwards.”
“But I should have liked him to have the watch,” said Uncle Joe, rubbing one side of his nose softly with the case.