The pin stopped.
"Now shall I take you back to the stump?" I asked. But there was no answer given. I repeated the question, but still I received no reply.
Then I took my acquaintance up carefully, and carried it back to the stump, laying it in a place sheltered from the wet, as that worthy had requested.
"Here is your friend the pin," I said. But the stump made no reply. So I turned sadly and went home, and up to my room, to meditate on the singular silence of both the pin and the stump.
The supper bell startled me and I arose from my chair and my reverie, and hastened down stairs.
As I entered the dining-room, one of the boarders said: "Why, where have you been all the afternoon?"
"Oh, I took a walk down to Racket Brook, and then I stayed up in my room the rest of the time."
(I was not going to tell about the pin and his story.)
"Are you sure you didn't come down again after you went up just after dinner?"
"Yes, I did," I indignantly replied.