“In part,” said his father; “you begin to understand something about them, and to be on your guard against them. But you have only made a beginning.”
“Only a beginning?” said Rollo; “why, I thought I had learned to work pretty well.”
[pg 127]“So you have, for a little boy; but it is only a beginning, after all. I don't think you would succeed in persevering steadily, so as to accomplish any serious undertaking now.”
“Why, father, I think I should.”
“Suppose I should give you the Latin grammar to learn in three months, and tell you that, at the end of that time, I would hear you recite it all at once. Do you suppose you should be ready?”
“Why, father, that is not work.”
“Yes,” said his father, “that is one kind of work,—and just such a kind of work, so far as patience, steadiness, and perseverance, are needed, as you will have most to do, in future years. But if I were to give it to you to do, and then say nothing to you about it till you had time to have learned the whole, I have some doubts whether you would recite a tenth part of it.”
Rollo was silent; he knew it would be just so.
“No, my little son,” said his father, putting him down and patting his head, “you have got a great deal to learn [pg 128]before you become a man; but then you have got some years to learn it in; that is a comfort. But now it is time for you to go to bed; so good night.”