“I wish I had a piece of twine to fasten it with, till we get home,” said he to his son, as he felt in his pockets. He then looked around to see where the little fellow was who had trigged the wheel. Do you know what I mean by trigging the wheel? The boy was sitting on the trunk of a tree, by the side of the road, and as the gentleman turned around to see him, he was just pulling out a long piece of twine from his pocket.
“Here is a string, sir,” said he; and he got up and came to the gentleman. He seemed tired however, for he went back and sat down again immediately.
“I thank you,” said he, “but I am afraid it is not strong enough.”
“You can double and twist it,” said the boy.
They twisted the string, and then doubled it and twisted it again, and so tied the harness. The gentleman and his son then got into the waggon again, and were going to ride up the hill. The gentleman hesitated a moment whether he ought to offer to pay the boy for his string or not. Do you think he ought to?
“I would pay him,” whispered his little son; “he looks like a poor boy.”
“Yes,” replied his father,“but perhaps he would make a bad use of the money. Perhaps his father and mother would not like to have him have any money.”
“Why cannot you ask him?”
The gentleman then turned to the boy who was still sitting on the log, and said,
“What is your name, my little fellow?”