"Where is your knife, my boy?" asked his aunt; "is it in your pocket?"
"No, aunt."
"Well, get it then, my dear, and do this little kindness for your brother, who looks so imploringly there, with his stick in his hand."
Alfred left the room, looking very thoughtful; and Samuel took a seat on a stool, keeping his eye on the door, resolved to wait quietly for Alfred's return, as he was not an impatient boy. After a considerable time, Alfred came back, with a face very much flushed, and no knife could be seen.
"Have you got it, Alfred?" asked Samuel, jumping up; "come, do cut my notches, because I cannot get on the island and begin to play until it is done."
"I cannot do it, Samuel; I have not got my knife."
"Where is your pretty new knife, then, my dear? I saw you put it carefully away in a box one day."
"Yes, I did, aunt; but I have just dropped it into a crack in the hall, and it is gone out of sight."
"O dear! let us try to get it," said the kind aunt; and away they all three ran to the crack in the passage. "Show me exactly the place where it went in, Alfred."
"Just here, aunt," said he, pointing to a very small crevice between the boards.