The Boy Tar

by Mayne Reid

Where was I to find my stick—my measuring-rule? That is your question, is it not?

It is easily answered. The deal board that had formed part of the biscuit-box would supply me with the material, and out of that I could soon make one. No sooner thought of than I set about it.

The board was but a little over two feet in length, and of course not long enough to reach across the great cask, which at its thickest part appeared four or five. But a very little ingenuity sufficed to overcome this obstacle. I should only have to split off three thin pieces, and by splicing their ends together, I should get a stick of length sufficient.

I did so. Fortunately, the deal was cut nicely with the grain of the wood; and in splitting it, I guided the blade of my knife so as not to let it run out at the edges.

I succeeded in getting three pieces of the thickness I wanted; and, after shaving off their angles, and making them clean and trim, I cut their ends with a slant for the splice.

The next thing was to obtain two pieces of string, and this was the easiest thing in the world. I wore upon my feet a pair of little “buskins” that laced up to the very ankle. The laces were thongs of calfskin, each of them a full yard long. They were just the thing; and, drawing them out of the holes, I completed the splicing, and now held in my hands a straight stick full five feet in length—quite long enough, I conceived, to reach across the thickest part of the butt, and slender enough to go into the hole—which I had already widened a little to receive it.

“So far good,” thought I; “I shall now insert the measuring-stick, and find my diameter.”

I rose to my feet to carry out this design, but I need not describe the mortification I felt on perceiving that the first of these operations, which would appear to be the simplest of all, could not be performed. At the first trial I saw that it was quite impossible. It was not because the hole was too small, or the stick too large. I had made no mistake about this; but my miscalculation was in regard to the space in which I had to work. Lengthways my little chamber was nearly six feet, but crossways little more than two; and up where the hole was—in which I intended to insert the measuring-rod—it was still less. Of course to get the stiff piece of stick into the cask was plainly impossible—without bending it, so that it must break—for the dry deal would have snapped through like the shank of a clay pipe.

I was a good deal chagrined at not having thought of this before; but I was still more vexed at the idea of being obliged to abandon the design of making the measurement I had intended, for before reflecting I believed that this was to be the result. A little further consideration, however, helped to a new plan, proving the importance of not arriving too hastily at conclusions. I discovered a way of getting in the stick to its full length, without either breaking or bending it.

This could be effected by taking it to pieces again, then first inserting one of the pieces, and holding it till the second could be spliced on to its end, and then pushing both into the cask, and joining the third piece in a similar fashion.