"Then, 1,875 square yards would be how many 4,84Oths of an acre?"
"Why," replied Felix, after a little further consideration, "1875/4840
of an acre."
"Now let's reduce that fraction as low as we can, by dividing both terms
by five, and what does it give us?"
"375/968 of an acre."
"Now, is that about a fourth of an acre, or about a third of an acre?"
Felix looked at the figures a moment, and then said, "It's a good deal
more than a quarter of an acre, and--it's more than a third of an acre
too."
"Yes, it's a little more than a third of an acre: there's more ground in
our house-lot than I thought there was. You know now about how large
those boys' farm was,--nearly three times as large as our yard. Now
let's see exactly how many roods and rods and yards and feet and inches
there are."
"How do you do that?" asked Felix, looking very blank.
"Why, reduce your 1,875 square yards in the garden, to higher
denominations."
"Oh, yes!" replied Felix, brightening: "I've done those sums lots of
times, and those denominate fractions like 1875/4840, but I never could
see any sense to it before. Let's see,--what do you divide by first?
Oh! I remember, 30 1/4."
Felix figured away bravely; but when he gave his result, it differed
considerably from Johnny's. After some expressions of impatience, he
looked it over, and, with some assistance from Johnny, found his
mistake; their answers then agreed; and he read the result aloud, with
something of an air of pride in his achievement,--
"1 rood, 21 square rods, 29 square yards, 6 square feet, 108 square
inches. And that's the first time I ever saw any sense in square
measure, and all those things. I thought arithmetic was just to keep
boys busy in school, and I could always find enough to do without it. I
tell you, I've played more pranks on the teachers! and I didn't get
found out very often neither; and when I did, they didn't dare punish
me, for fear my folks would make a fuss; and they would too."
"It is eight o'clock now; and I always read to our children for an hour
or so before they go to bed," said Mrs. Le Bras, "or have them read
aloud to me."
"Let us all take turns to-night," said Johnny. "You or father begin."
"Very well," said Mrs. Le Bras, taking a book from one of the
library-shelves. "We are to begin our new book to-night, which is
fortunate on Felix's account."
"It'll be awful stupid, I know," said Felix: "all books are. I wish
books had never been invented, and then a fellow would not have to go to
school at all."
"You begin, Frank," said Mrs. Le Bras.
Mr. Le Bras put down his paper, and began to read in the book. It was
an account of a pedestrian excursion made by two boys in the Alps: they
were German boys, and this was the way they spent their summer vacation.
Felix did not intend to listen to the reading: he had begun to draw
comic pictures on his sheet of paper; he was trying to represent himself
and Clyde, as he was falling from the roof; his attempt, however, was
not very artistic. But soon he became very much interested in the
story, and sat quite still, listening. Mr. Le Bras, after reading about
fifteen minutes, passed the book to Mrs. Le Bras. She read about the
same length of time, and then passed the book to Felix. Felix said at
first that he did not like to read aloud, and would have passed the book
to Johnny. But his uncle said, "No, Felix, I want to hear you read;"
and Felix, who stood rather in awe of his uncle Frank, did not like to
disobey him. He made so many mistakes, and mixed his words up so badly
by reading too fast, that Sue was about to say she could not understand
his reading, when her mother shook her head at her.
When Johnny's turn came, he read remarkably well,--so much so, that
Felix felt quite ashamed of his own reading, which he knew was not good,
although he did not know exactly what was the matter with it, except
that he could not pronounce all the words. Sue read exceedingly well
for a little girl,--very much better than Felix.
"It is nine o'clock now," said Mrs. Le Bras at length, "and we must put
the book aside until to-morrow night."
"Oh, no!" exclaimed Felix: "we are at the most interesting part now."
But Mrs. Le Bras explained that they never read more than an hour in
this way; and, as she said this, she replaced the book on the shelf,
remarking that it was time for the children to go to bed.
"I never go to bed till I get ready," replied Felix, "and generally I
sit up until ten."
"What time do you rise in the morning?" inquired his uncle.
"Most any time,--about eight generally."
"We breakfast at half-past seven," replied his aunt: "so you see you
will need to go to bed earlier than you do at home."
Mrs. Le Bras then bathed Felix's ankle again with the arnica, and Mr. Le
Bras said he would help him up to his room.
So ended the first day of Felix's visit. The next morning Felix's ankle
was so badly swollen that it was evident bicycle-riding was out of the
question for the present.
"I wish now," said he, "that I had brought my pony and dog-cart; but I
was tired of them at home."
"Where are they?" asked Johnny.
"They're at our summer place, with the other horses and carriages.
Oliver has gone down there to take care of the horses and things while
father is gone."
"If we go to the cottage, can I ride in your dog-cart?" asked Sue.
"Yes, if you want to; it's just fit for girls: but give me a bicycle or
a boat. We've got a sail-boat; but father won't trust me without Oliver
goes, and Oliver hates to go sailing with boys. I've got a row-boat of
my own."
After breakfast, it was discovered that Clyde was missing. He had been
put in the summer kitchen for the night, and the door had been left
open. The whole household called him, and searched for him, except Mr.
Le Bras; but nothing could be heard or seen of him. A sudden suspicion
flashed upon the mind of Mrs. Le Bras; and she said, in a low tone, to
her husband, "Do you know where Clyde is?"
"The fewer questions you ask me, the better," he replied; and she said
no more.
"If he is not found by to-night," said Felix, "I shall have an
advertisement put in the paper."
"That would be of no use," replied Mrs. Le Bras; "since his name, you
say, was on his collar, with the words, 'Owned by F. Le Bras.' As your
uncle is the only man by the name of Le Bras in town, and F. is his
first initial, any one who found him accidentally would bring him here."
"While, if he was taken intentionally from the shed during the night, as
I have no doubt he was, the person who took him does not mean to return
him," added Mr. Le Bras.
"Then, I must have another dog," replied Felix.
"Very well," said his uncle: "if you do not find Clyde by the time we go
to the seaside, you shall have another; but I think, while you are in
town, you can get on very well without a dog, provided Clyde does not
find his way back."
"He would have woke us all up if the thief had not muzzled him," said
Felix.
"I presume he was muzzled," replied Mr. Le Bras. "This is a bad
neighborhood for dogs; I have no idea that you could keep a dog safe
here a week; there is a great prejudice in this neighborhood against
dogs."
Mr. Le Bras then turned the conversation by saying to his wife, "You
remember Pierre was to stay here while his folks are away?"
"Yes," replied Mrs. Le Bras: "I am quite willing he should come at any
time; he makes scarcely any trouble at all."
"Trouble!" exclaimed Sue: "I think he makes a great deal of pleasure."
"So do I," said Johnny. "When is he coming?"
"Week after next, I believe," replied Mr. Le Bras, taking his hat, and
going toward the door. "His father and mother have decided to spend the
rest of the summer at the White Mountains, on account of his father's
health: he is suffering seriously from malaria."
The next thing was, what was to be done with Felix that day, since he
was contented with nothing but lively outdoor amusements. Johnny was too
polite and kind-hearted to leave him to his own slender devices, while
he was in such a helpless condition; but he thought sadly of the quiet
and beauty of the sky-room, which he had not been able to visit since
Felix arrived.
*CHAPTER V.*
*COMPROMISES.*
"How will you amuse yourself to-day, Felix?" asked Johnny, as they
walked aimlessly into the sitting-room. Johnny was thinking to himself,
"I wish school was not out, and then there would not be so much time in
which I should have to think of being polite to Felix, instead of going
about the things I like to do myself, and which he don't care any thing
at all about."
"Oh! I don't know, I'm sure," replied Felix, yawning: "can't you think
up something? I know it's going to be as stupid as can be. I wish I
had insisted on going to Europe."
"I know what I would do, if I was only tall enough," said Sue: "I'd try
to ride Felix's bicycle myself. I think it must be great fun."
This made Felix laugh. "It would be good as a play to see you try," he
said; "I just wish you could; it would give us some fun to see you
wobble about on it, and scream every time you thought it was going to
fall over."
"Why don't you have Johnny try?" suggested Sue; "it would be pretty near
as much fun; only Johnny wouldn't scream, if he did fall over; he never
screams at any thing."
"That's an idea," said Felix. "Yes, Johnny, you try the bicycle: it's
great fun to see a beginner."
Now, the truth was, Johnny had for some time been wishing he had a
bicycle, although he had not as much as hinted this desire to his father
or mother; since he belonged to a society of boys and girls who called
themselves "Independents," because they had pledged themselves not to
spend any money for amusement, etc., which they had not earned
themselves. Johnny wore the badge of the society, and had taken great
pleasure in earning the not very large amount of money he needed for his
chemicals and other trifling expenses, by carrying papers, and doing
various other little odd jobs which came in his way. Indeed, he had got
to be the great errand-boy of the neighborhood, because it had come to
be understood that he was willing to make himself useful for a very
reasonable remuneration. His father and mother had not discouraged this
endeavor, because Johnny was inclined to read and study too much, and
any thing which would divert his mind out of doors in healthful exercise
was beneficial to him. But as for earning enough to buy a bicycle, of
course that was beyond Johnny's present abilities as an Independent.
"Would you be willing that I should try it?" replied Johnny.
"Why, of course! You may hurt yourself, but you can't hurt the bicycle;
and if you did, I could have it mended or get another before my ankle
gets well."
"You must ask mother, Johnny," said Sue, who began to look rather sober
over the possibility of Johnny's getting hurt.
Mrs. Le Bras was just entering the room.
"May I try Felix's bicycle, mother?" asked Johnny, with a wistful look.
"Why, yes," she said, "if you can try it in a safe way: you will have to
have some one hold it for you."
"I'll hold it, ma'am," said Kate, who was clearing off the table in the
dining-room: "I'm very strong in my arms."
"The platform will be a grand good place to mount," said Felix. "You
can step up on the railing, and get right on: you can't get on as I do,
very well, until you get used to it."
"Come right out now, before I wash my dishes," said Kate.
"But you must promise, Johnny, that if think there is any danger, and
ask you to get down, you will obey me at once," said Mrs. Le Bras: "I am
almost sorry I said you could try, before your father came home."
They all went out on the platform; and Johnny brought the bicycle out of
the shed, and leaned it up against the railing of the platform, near the
steps on which Kate was standing. Kate came out, and held the wheel with
a firm grip, while Johnny stepped on the railing, and got upon the seat.
"Now, Katie," said Johnny, "just help me wheel it out, where I can
balance it."
Kate cautiously pulled the machine away from the platform; while Johnny
placed his feet firmly on the pedals, and turned the wheel slowly at
first, while Kate was holding it. "Let go now, Katie," he said.
"Shall I?" asked Kate doubtfully, looking at Mrs. Le Bras.
"No, no!" cried Sue: "he'll fall if you do, I know he will!"
"I am afraid so too," said Mrs. Le Bras. "We don't want two boys with
sprained ankles, Johnny."
"But I think I can keep my balance," replied Johnny; "and of course I
can't learn to ride while Katie is holding the wheel still."
"Oh, let go of it!" said Felix. "I don't believe he would fall; anyway,
he can jump off: he'll only waver around a little, but he's got to do
that before he learns."
"Move it over gently, Katie," said Mrs. Le Bras.
Kate tried to do this; but in moving her hands to turn the wheel,
Johnny, who was working the pedals, eluded her, and sailed off into the
garden. After he had gone a little way, the bicycle wavered to the
left. Sue shrieked; Kate rushed forward with outstretched arms; and
Mrs. Le Bras called out, "Jump off, Johnny!" But Johnny quickly
recovered his balance, and went bravely on down the garden-walk.
"I knew he wasn't going to fall off," said Felix. "He's getting on all
right."
Johnny experienced a slight difficulty in turning around the walk at the
foot of the garden, but performed that feat without falling, and arrived
safely at the platform amid hearty congratulations, and loud clapping of
hands.
"I knew that boy could do any thing he undertook," said Kate admiringly;
for she was very fond of Johnny.
"All that is necessary," said Johnny, "is to preserve the centre of
gravity."
Johnny then took a more extensive tour, going around the house, and
making another circuit of the yard.
"I guess I can try the street now," he said: "I might as well get really
used to it while I am about it. I don't go very straight yet: but there
are ever so many beginners who go on the street; I see them almost every
day."
"Yes," replied Sue: "you go better than Walter Cross now, and he's been
trying ever so long."
So they all went out to the front-door, to see how the novice would
succeed there. The sequel was, that Johnny rode out of sight, and left
them gazing into vacancy.
"If that boy don't beat all!" said Kate. "Law, ma'am, he'll be on the
race-course before we know it."
"That is a good joke!" said Mrs. Le Bras, laughing: "our professor on
the race-course! Aren't you afraid you have lost your bicycle, Felix?"
"No," replied Felix: "this is prime! for uncle will have to get Johnny a
bicycle now, and then we can ride everywhere together, when my ankle
gets well; for by that time he can ride capitally, I'll bet."
Johnny came back in about half an hour, quite flushed with success and
exercise, and looking very animated.
"I surprised the boys I met," said he. "I met Alec and Fred walking
together, and they said, 'Oh, you've got a bicycle too! Now you must go
to ride with us.' They were a good deal disappointed when I said it
wasn't my own."
"You've got to have one," said Felix: "I'm going to tell uncle Frank so
this noon!"
"No," replied Johnny. "I can't buy one,--they cost too much: but
perhaps I can hire one while you are here, sometimes; I know a boy who
rents his for so much an hour, when he don't want to use it himself."
The bicycle was put away; and then Johnny, who had enjoyed his success
and the ride very much, began to feel grateful to Felix for letting him
take it, and for saying he could use it every day until his ankle got
well. It no longer seemed such a heavy task to think up some amusement
for his cousin. Mrs. Le Bras had sat down at the sitting-room window
with her sewing. Johnny stole up to her, while Felix was whittling into
the waste-basket, with his back turned that way, and whistling rather
drearily. "Mother," said he, "I have a mind to ask Felix to come up and
see the sky-room."
"Then," said his mother, in a whisper too low for Felix to notice it,
"you must not blame any one if you are not able afterwards to have it to
yourself."
"No; but I'll make a bargain with him about it."
"Do as you please, only don't get fretted over the consequences."
Felix was trying to cut out the deck of a boat.
"Where is your boat?" asked Johnny.
"I thought I'd make the deck first: I haven't got the right piece of
wood for the boat. Have you any thick blocks of wood?"
"No, but I can get some. Richard Scott is a great friend of the man who
has charge of the wood-working room at the brass-works, and the man
gives him any odd pieces of wood he wants, and lets him use the
machinery too: he could cut out your boat in a very short time, with a
circular saw and other machines."
"I wish I could get him to do it, then: I'll pay him for it. What I
like to do, is to rig a ship: I can't make the hull very well."
"If you will let me take your bicycle again, this afternoon, I will go
down and see Dick about it."
"Of course you can have the bicycle whenever you want it, till my ankle
gets well."
"You didn't know I had a room all to myself. I have a room where no one
can come in unless I tell them they may: my father gave it to me to read
and study in."
"What a dismal place it must be!--I guess I'll keep on with this deck,
and then you can take it down and tell Dick I want the hull made of
about that size."
"No, it isn't a dismal room at all: it is the pleasantest room in the
house, I think."
"Oh! you'd think a room was pleasant if it just had some books and
bottles in it, and an old mortar and pestle, and a lot of such trash."
"I was going to say that if you want to come in and see it some time,
you can ask me, and I will unlock it for you. I shall be in there a
good deal of the time, probably; so, if you miss me, you will know where
I am, and can come up if you want to. Of course I will let you in, if I
am not very busy indeed."
"So it's up-stairs, is it? Is it what you call 'the spare room'?"
"No: it's an unfinished part of the French roof."
"Ho! It's up in the attic, is it?"
"Yes."
"Well, I guess you won't find me troubling you much up in the attic this
hot weather: you must like to read, to go up there to do it! When you
get a room down-cellar, let me know, and perhaps I'll pay you a visit
once in a while."
So it did not seem very likely that Johnny's generous disclosure would
cost him very dear, at present at least. But how to get away from Felix
was still a question; although sitting around, and seeing him whittle,
and hearing him fret about his ankle, was not very delightful
employment. He had proposed, too, that, as soon as he finished the
deck, Johnny should assist him in writing an advertisement to have put
in the paper, in case Clyde did not appear by the next day. Johnny
finally took a book from the bookcase, and sat down to read.
"Bother your book!" said Felix. "Why don't you talk?"
"I don't see as there is any thing in particular to say."
"Who wants you to say any thing in particular? There! I've got that old
deck done, I hope! What's your old book about?"
"It's about those boys and their one-acre farm."
"Haven't you read that about a thousand times before?"
"I have read it twice."
"And I don't believe it's fit to read half a time."
"If you want me to, I'll read a little of the first chapter aloud, so
that you can see how you like it."
"Fire away, then! Only stop when I tell you to, for I know I can't
stand much of it."
Johnny began to read, in a clear, expressive tone, while Felix picked up
one of the pine sticks he had laid on the floor, and began to whittle a
mast. Pretty soon the shavings began to fall almost anywhere except
into the basket; and Sue, who was playing with her dolls in the corner,
said, "Look out, Felix! your shavings are falling over everywhere."
"Bother the shavings!" replied Felix, seeming to notice them for the
first time, and getting down to pick them up. "I don't believe they
ever spaded over a whole acre of ground in any such time as that. Just
read that over.--Oh! I thought you said in one hour. I mean to have
father let me have an acre of ground by the cottage next season, and go
down early, and see what I can do with it."
"But you have all the money you want without earning it," said Sue.
"That's so,--I forgot that; but I just wish my father was a poor man.
I'll bet I could do as well as either of those boys. Go on now: let's
see what they did next."
The morning had advanced considerably, and yet Felix had not asked
Johnny to stop; although the masts were finished, and the shipbuilder
was lying on the floor with his head on a hassock, for lack of any
further employment. Johnny's throat ached with reading so long, and at
last he felt obliged to say,--
"My throat is getting tired: let's put the book up now, until some other
time."
"No: go on a little farther; just finish up that chapter, so you'll know
where you left off."
"Stop a few moments, and rest, Johnny, and then, if Felix wants you to,
you can finish the chapter," suggested Mrs. Le Bras, giving a
significant glance towards Felix, which was intended for Johnny's
benefit. Johnny looked, and saw that Felix's eyes were closed. Johnny
put down the book, and in a few moments it was evident his audience was
sound asleep. Johnny immediately rose softly, and left the room: he went
into the back entry, and then ran up-stairs with light bounds to the
sky-room. He opened all the windows; and the breeze, which was scarcely
perceptible below, began to blow in very freshly. Johnny got one of his
philosophies, and sat down by one of the front windows to read. He did
not lock the door, since Felix had expressed himself as disinclined to
pay him any calls. There was no danger of visits from any other source,
for Sue understood that Johnny was not to be disturbed without
permission. After reading in that book a while, he took down another,
still leaving the first open upon the table. After consulting the
second book, he took down the dictionary, and consulted that. While he
was still in the midst of his researches, he was startled by a loud
voice behind him.
"Well! I say! This isn't so bad, is it? Let's call this aboard ship,
with the sky for sea; 'cause you can't see any land up here, except off
at a distance as you do on the water. But I'd like to know if this is
how you lock yourself in?"
"I didn't think of any one's coming up," replied Johnny, looking blankly
at the open door. "But that's all right," he added, smiling. "I'm not
very busy now: I've got about through with my studying."
"What are you studying?"
"I am studying about heat and light."
"What can you learn about those things, I'd like to know? When it's
light, it's light; and when it's hot, it's hot; and when it isn't either
of them, it's dark and cold."
"If folks didn't know any more about heat and light than that, you would
have to go without a good many things you have now; for instance, there
wouldn't be any machine-shops and railroads, and you couldn't have your
picture taken."
"Why not?" said Felix.
"I can't tell you very well to begin with, any more than you could learn
the back part of the arithmetic before you had studied fractions. But
here is a magnifying-glass: we'll use it for a sun-glass."
As Johnny spoke, he placed a piece of white paper on the window-sill
where there was a patch of sunshine, and, taking a magnifying-glass from
the stand, held it above the paper in such a manner as to bring the rays
to a focus.
"That is a regular sun-glass," said Felix: "I have had one many a time.
It will burn the paper in a minute."
"It is something like a sun-glass," replied Johnny, "because it is a
double convex lens."
"What do you mean by a double convex lens?"
"I'll show you in a moment."
Just then the paper began to burn, and Johnny removed the glass.
"Why didn't you let it go on burning?" said Felix.
"Because, you see, it was blackening the paint on the sill, and might
have burned into the wood if I had kept the glass there. Now, what made
the paper burn?"
"Why, you held the glass so that it made a focus, and that made the
paper burn."
"But why was there what you call a focus? and why did that make the
paper burn?"
"I never thought any thing about that," replied Felix, looking a little
confused. "Do you know the reason?"
"Oh, yes! I knew that the first time I ever saw a sun-glass: my father
told me. Just look at the shape of the glass on both sides; it's
convex, you see; that is, it rounds out toward the centre. The rounding
of the glass causes the rays of light to strike it obliquely everywhere
except in the very centre; and when a ray enters a transparent surface
obliquely, or comes out of it obliquely, it is bent out of its course in
a particular manner,--it would take too long to tell you exactly in what
manner, although I can lend you a book that will show you exactly,--and
in passing through this convex lens, the rays are all bent towards a
point at a little distance from the glass, and exactly opposite the
centre of it; so that, if you hold any thing that will burn easily
exactly at that point where the rays all join together, their united
heat is sufficient to burn the article. I know exactly why each side is
made convex, and why the glass is so much thicker in the middle; but it
would take a long time to explain it to you, although you could read
about it all in fifteen minutes in one of those volumes of 'Science for
the Young,' there on the shelf. Any time you want to look it up, I will
show you the place."
"No: I don't want to be bothered with reading it. I guess what you've
told me will do."
Johnny then held the glass over the paper again.
"The focus is the gathering together, or concentration, of the rays of
light; and as every ray of the sun has heat in it, the concentration of
the heat of all the rays at that point makes the paper burn."
"Then, the larger the glass,"--
"The convex lens, you mean," said Johnny.
"Yes: the larger the lens, the more rays of the sun would be brought
together at the focus, and the more heat there would be?"
"Of course."
"Then, if I had a real big convex lens in my room, in front of the
window, I could sit in the focus of it, in the winter, and keep warm
without any fire."
"You could keep too warm, perhaps; for you know a sun-glass will burn
your hand: but even if the focus would be just right on a winter day,
the light would be too bright for your eyes; and sometimes the sun
wouldn't shine in at your window, and you would get very tired of
sitting in one place. Besides, a convex lens of that size would cost a
great deal more than a very nice stove and ever so much coal. So I
guess convex lenses will never take the place of wood and coal, which
are the best provisions the sun has made for warming people, that we
know of yet, when it is not nearly enough over their heads to warm them
itself, or when its rays are shut out by bad weather."
"I don't see what the sun has to do with wood and coal," replied Felix,
sitting down by the table, and holding the magnifying-glass over
Johnny's books and various other objects on the table.
"Why, the sun has stored up a lot of its heat in wood and coal, and all
those things which we call combustibles."
"Come, now! none of your fooling," said Felix, staring at Johnny
incredibly: "there isn't one bit of heat in wood or coal till you burn
them."
Johnny began to laugh.
"Why, of course they are not hot until they begin to burn; if they were,
you couldn't say that the heat was stored up; it would be escaping all
the time: and then, wouldn't it be dreadful to have the trees hot
instead of making a nice cool shade? and how could the miners get the
coal if it were hot? and how could we carry fuel about from place to
place? and we should have to be made like salamanders, if every thing
around us that the sun had put heat into was hot: we couldn't sit at
this table, or in these chairs, or handle these books; and the floor
would burn our feet, and our clothes would feel hot."
"My clothes do feel hot," said Felix, beginning to laugh, also, at
Johnny's vivid picture of what would be if the sun had not locked its
stored heat up so coolly and comfortably for our use.
"It isn't your clothes that are hot, though, unless your body has heated
them, or you have been sitting or standing in the sun; it is you who are
warm, and your clothes keep the heat that comes from your body from
passing freely into the air: your clothes themselves are not any hotter
than they would be if they were in an ice-chest; that is, I mean the
heat that the sun has stored in your clothes would be every particle
there if your clothes were kept next to ice."
"I'd like to know, now, how you make all that nonsense out?"
"Heat is force: in one sense, the heat of the sun is the force of the
sun. Now, when things are growing, the force of the sun goes into them
in some way, and makes them take carbon out of the air, and hydrogen out
of the water in the ground, and from the rain and dew: and just exactly
as much heat or force as the sun has put into a tree or plant, or any
thing else, can be got out of it by causing it to burn; that is, making
the carbon and hydrogen contained in it, unite with the oxygen in the
air.
"I don't wonder the boys call you professor," said Felix: "I'd like to
know how you ever got to know so much about every thing. What you say
is a great deal harder to believe than fairy-stories: I guess I'll go to
believing fairy-stories."
Johnny laughed again.
"Because some very strange things are true, that is no reason every
thing strange should be true, or why some things should be true that
wouldn't be so very strange. Do you like fairy-stories?"
"Yes, I like them as well as any thing: I've never read many stories but
fairy-tales. Story-books are all lies; and if I'm going to read lies,
I'd rather read some good big ones."
"I don't think story-books are all lies. I don't think that story about
the boys and their farm is all a lie."
"Do you suppose there were two just such boys, and that they had just
such a farm, and did just as those boys did?"
"No: I think very likely that was not all true, and I don't much care
whether it was or not: but I know there might be two such boys, and that
they might do just as is described; and that makes the story
interesting, and a good deal more so than a story might be about two
other boys with every thing told exactly as it was and happened. But I
don't like fairy-stories, because they couldn't be true, and so are not
like any thing I am interested in. If there ever was a fairy, I should
like very much to hear one described, even although this particular
fairy was only a made-up one. I should say, 'I have learned how a fairy
might look and act, which is a good deal as real fairies do look and
act.'"
"I like a good fairy-story, anyhow: only I don't see why the fairies
can't be men instead of women; men-fairies could do a great deal more
wonderful things than women-fairies."
Johnny thought to himself that Felix was much too large a boy to care
for fairy-stories, and to know nothing about books of a more mature
description; for Felix was nearly fourteen,--a year older than Johnny,
and also taller and broader.
"Suppose you tell us how it is that this glass magnifies these letters
so much," said Felix, after a little pause.