He lived in a little bit of a house by the canal; and the machine, which was always kept in shining order, had to be taken in-doors every night. How he managed to find room in the house for himself, his wife, and his four children, besides the machine, we could never imagine—and it was none of our business. That little house by the canal was as much the Old Red Rover's castle as the palaces that you and I live in, dear reader, are ours.
I think it was a week after our conversation concerning the Doge's rings, when, one Saturday, Ned and I heard the bell ring, and saw the Red Rover coming up State street, with Isaac Holman propelling it, instead of its owner.
This was rather astonishing, and, of course, an immediate explanation was demanded.
"Why, you see," said Holman, "Mother had been for a long time wishing the Old Red Rover would come around, for every pair of scissors in the house was as dull as a Dutch grammar. At last she got tired of waiting, and so I went to his house with them. I found he was laid up with rheumatism, and hadn't been out for five weeks. It looked to me as if the family were on short rations, and I began to think what I could do for them. I thought the best thing would be, to take the machine and spend the day in going around grinding scissors, and at night take home the money to the Old Red Rover."
"Yes," said Ned, "that's the very best thing; it's more fun than anything else you could have thought of."
"He was rather afraid to let me try it," continued Holman, "but Mrs. The-Old-Red-Rover was greatly pleased with the idea, and soon persuaded him. 'Be very tender with her—she's the pride of my life,' said he, as we rolled it out of the door; and he didn't mean his wife—he meant the machine."
We had often kept this machine company as it passed through the streets in charge of its owner, and it was doubly interesting now when one of our own number was allowed to run it. So, of course, we went along with Holman on his benevolent tour. Other boys also joined us, and the unusually large crowd attracted attention. We were all ready to explain the situation to people who stood in the doors or looked out at the windows, and the result was that Holman had plenty of work.
| THE BOYS RUN THE RED ROVER. |
Soon after turning into West street, he began to go much more slowly. At the house where Miss Glidden had been living since the fire, nobody appeared at door or window. It happened that right here something got out of order in the machine—at least, Holman said it did, and he had to stop stock-still and tinker at it a long time; but I was not able to see what was out of order.