He said no more, but went immediately to a corner of the room, where there was a small space at the end of the secretary, and he pulled out a smooth pine board, about as wide, and twice as long, as the top of his little table. He brought this out with an air of great satisfaction, and they placed another chair at a little distance from the one which they had been using as a table, in such a manner that he could rest this board upon the two chairs, one end of the board upon each.
“That’s a good smooth table,” said Lucy. “What is this board made for?”
“It is one my father has. He uses it for a great many things,” said Rollo. “When he makes me a little book, he pares the edges upon it.”
“Why does not he do it on his table?” asked Lucy.
“Because,” said Rollo, “then his knife would cut through down to the table, and so cut the cloth.”
Rollo then went and got some paper out of a drawer where he knew that there was some kept, and where he often went to get some for his mother. But then he had no pencil; so he went over to his father’s table, and said,—
“Father, do you know where there is a pencil?—two pencils? We shall want two.”
His father did not answer his question, but quietly took up the piece of paper which he had placed upon the corner of the table, and made a mark upon it, saying, at the same time,—
“There’s one interruption.”
“Why, father,” said Rollo, “we only want two pencils, and I thought that you could just tell us if you knew where there are any.”