“That was a very pretty wheelbarrow, Rollo, I think myself.”
“Yes, it was beautiful, father. It was so light, and went so easy! I wish you would buy me one, father.”
“I would, my son, but I think a wheelbarrow will give you more pleasure at some future time, than it will now.”
“When do you mean?”
“When you have learned to work.”
“But I want the wheelbarrow to play with.”
[pg 44]“I know you do; but you would take a great deal more solid and permanent satisfaction in such a thing, if you were to use it for doing some useful work.”
“When shall I learn to work, father?” said Rollo.
“I have been thinking that it is full time now. You are about six years old, and they say that a boy of seven years old is able to earn his living.”
“Well, father, I wish you would teach me to work. What should you do first?”