So that the physician’s prescription was, in reality, a far more disagreeable one than Rollo had imagined.
When Rollo reached home, he told his mother that he was not to have any thing more to do with books for a month.
“And you look as if you were glad of it,” said she, with a smile.
“Yes, mother, I am,” said Rollo, “rather glad.”
“And what do you expect to do with yourself all that time?” said she.
“O, I don’t know,” said Rollo. “Perhaps I shall help Jonas, a part of the time, about his work.”
“That will be a very good plan for a part of the time,” said his mother; “though he is doing pretty hard work just now.”
“What is he doing?”
“He is digging a little canal in the marsh, beyond the brook, to drain off the water.”