“Father, do you count Sunday as one of my three days?”
“No, my son.”
Rollo clapped his hands, and said, “O, how glad!” and ran back. He told his mother that he was very much obliged to her for letting him sit up, and now he was ready to go to bed.
He went to his room, undressed himself, and, in a few minutes, his father came in to get his light.
“Father,” said Rollo, “I am very much obliged to you for not counting Sunday.”
“It is not out of any indulgence to you, Rollo; I have no right to count Sunday.”
“No right, father? Why, you said three days.”
“Yes; but in such agreements as that, three working days are always meant; so that, strictly, according to the [pg 117]agreement, I do not think I have any right to count Sunday. If I had, I should have felt obliged to count it.”
“Why, father?”
“Because I want you, when you grow up to be a man, to be bound by your agreements. Men will hold you to your agreements when you are a man, and I want you to be accustomed to it while you are a boy. I should rather give up twice as much land as your garden, than take yours away from you now; but I must do it if you do not get it in good order before the time is out.”