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ROLLO'S
EXPERIMENTS.
BY THE
AUTHOR OF ROLLO LEARNING TO TALK, TO
READ, AT WORK, AT PLAY, AT SCHOOL,
AT VACATION, &c.
BOSTON:
WEEKS, JORDAN, AND COMPANY
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1839,
By T. H. CARTER,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Massachusetts.
STEREOTYPED AT THE
BOSTON TYPE AND STEREOTYPE FOUNDRY.
[Illustration]
CONTENTS.
Page.
JONAS AN ASTRONOMER 11
PRUNING 23
THE GREAT BEETLE AND WEDGE 35
THE LITTLE BEETLE AND WEDGE 46
SPLITTING 59
HOROLOGY 80
JONAS'S DIAL 94
THE BEE-HIVE 112
JONAS'S MAGNET 124
MAGNETISM 139
INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY 157
OSCILLATIONS 165
ROLLO'S EXPERIMENTS.
JONAS AN ASTRONOMER.
One day, when Rollo was about seven years old, he was sitting upon the
steps of the door, and he heard a noise in the street, as of some sort
of carriage approaching. A moment afterwards, a carryall came in sight.
It drove up to the front gate, and stopped. Rollo's father and mother
and his little brother Nathan got out. His father fastened the horse to
the post, and came in.
When Rollo first heard the noise of the carryall, he was sitting still
upon the steps of the door, thinking. He was thinking of something that
Jonas, his father's hired boy, had told him about the sun's shining in
at the barn door. There was a very large double door to Rollo's father's
barn, and as this door opened towards the south, the sun used to shine
in very warm, upon the barn floor, in the middle of the day.
Rollo and Jonas had been sitting there husking some corn,--for it was in
the fall of the year;--and as it was rather a cool autumnal day, Rollo
said it was lucky that the sun shone in, for it kept them warm.
"Yes," said Jonas; "and what is remarkable, it always shines in farther
in the winter than it does in the summer."
"Does it?" said Rollo.
"Yes," said Jonas.
"And what is the reason?" asked Rollo.
"I don't know," said Jonas, "unless it is because we want it in the barn
more in the winter than we do in the summer."
"Ho!" said Rollo; "I don't believe that is the reason."
"Why not?" said Jonas.
"O, I don't believe the sun moves about in the heavens, to different
places, only just to shine into barn doors."
"Why, it keeps a great many farmers' boys more comfortable," said Jonas.
"Is it so in all barns?" asked Rollo.
"I suppose so," said Jonas.
After some further conversation on the subject, the boys determined to
watch the reflection of the sun's beams upon the barn floor for a good
many days, and to mark the place that it came in to, at noon every day,
with a piece of chalk. It was only a few minutes before the carryall
came up, that they had determined upon this, and had marked the place
for that day; and then Rollo had come out of the barn, and was sitting
upon the door step, thinking of the subject, when his reflections were
interrupted in the manner already described.
So, when Rollo saw his father getting out of the carryall, he ran to
meet him, and called out to him, talking very loud and rapidly,
"Father, Jonas says that the sun shines farther in, upon the barn floor,
in winter than in summer;--does it, do you think?"
But this was not a proper time for Rollo to bring up his philosophical
question. His father had a carpet bag and several packages in his hands,
and he was also conducting Rollo's mother in, and thinking about the
horse and carryall. So he told Rollo that he must not speak to him then,
for he could not attend to him.
Rollo then walked along back into the yard, and began to think of the
subject of the sun's shining in at the south door. He looked up towards
the sun, and began to consider what sort of a change in its place, at
noon, on different days, would be necessary in order to account for its
shining in more at south doors and windows, on some days, than on
others. He reflected that if the sun were exactly overhead, at noon, it
could not shine in at any doors at all; for the rays would then strike
perpendicularly down the sides of the houses. While he was standing
thus, lost in thought, looking up to the sun, with his arm across his
forehead, to shelter his eyes a little from the dazzling rays, he
suddenly felt the pressure of two soft hands upon his ears, as of
somebody who had come up behind him. He turned round, and found his
cousin Lucy standing there.
Lucy asked him what he was thinking of, and he told her. He then took
Lucy into the barn, and showed her the chalk mark upon the floor. She
looked on with a good deal of interest, and said she thought it was an
excellent plan; and she wished there was a great barn with a south
floor at _their_ house. Lucy knew more about the subject than Rollo did,
and she gave him some explanations about it. "You see," said she, "that
the sun rises in the east every morning, and comes up higher and higher,
every hour, till noon; and then it begins to go down again, and at last
it sets in the west. But, at some times in the year, it comes up higher
at noon than it does at other times, and so it does not shine so much
into the door."
"It shines _more_, you mean," said Rollo.
"No," said Lucy; "not so much. In the winter the sun moves around by the
south, and keeps pretty low all day, and of course shines farther into
doors and windows."
Then, after a moment's pause, she added,
"If we should mark the place on the floor all the year round, we should
find what time the sun is farthest to the south."
"So we should," said Rollo.
"It would be in the winter," said Lucy.
"Yes," said Rollo; "in the middle of the winter exactly."
"Yes," said Lucy; "and in the middle of the summer it would be nearest
overhead."
"Jonas and I will try it," said Rollo.
"I can try it in the house," said Lucy, "where the sun shines in at my
chamber window."
"O no," said Rollo; "that won't do."
"Why not?" said Lucy.
"Because the window does not come down to the floor, and so does not let
the sun in enough."
"O, that makes no difference," said Lucy; "we have nothing to do with
the bottom of the door; you only mark where it shines in the farthest,
and that place is made by the top of the door, for it shines in farthest
by the top of the door."
"Well," said Rollo, "I don't know but that the house will do; but then
you can't chalk on the carpet."
"Chalk on the carpet?" said Lucy.
"Yes, to mark the place."
"No," said Lucy, thinking; "but I can mark it some other way."
"How?" asked Rollo.
"Why, I can put a pin in," said Lucy.
"O dear," said Rollo, with a laugh, "put a pin in! That's no way to mark
a shadow."
"It isn't a shadow," said Lucy.
"Yes, it is," said Rollo.
"No," said Lucy; "a shadow is dark, and this is bright."
"Yes," said Rollo, "this is a bright shadow; some shadows are bright,
and some are dark."
"O Rollo!" said Lucy; and she turned away from him, a little out of
humor.
The truth was, that Rollo and Lucy were getting decidedly into a
dispute. From the sublime heights of practical astronomy, they had
fallen, by a sad and very rapid descent, to a childish altercation.
Rollo had a very high idea of the superior facilities afforded by
Jonas's barn floor for observing the daily changes in the sun's meridian
altitude, and he did not like the idea of Lucy's finding that she had
equally good opportunities for observation at her home. Lucy was a
little fretted at Rollo's captious spirit; but then her mind soon became
unruffled again, and she turned back towards Rollo, and said, as they
walked along the yard,
"I don't think the sunshine on the floor is a shadow, Rollo; but then I
don't see why a shadow would not do, just as well."
"How?" said Rollo.
"Why, look there at the shadow of that post,--that would do."
She pointed to a post with a rounded top upon it, which stood by the
side of the garden gate. The shadow, clear, distinct, and well defined,
was projected upon the walk; and Lucy told Rollo that they might mark
the place where the top of that shadow came every day, and that that
would do just as well.
"But how could we mark it?" said Rollo.
"Why, we could drive a little stake unto the ground."
"O, that would not do," said Rollo. "People would trip over them, and
break them down. They would be exactly in the walk."
Lucy saw that this would be a difficulty, and, for a moment, seemed to
be at a loss. At length, she said,
"We might go somewhere else, then, where the people would not come."
"But what should we do for a post?" said Rollo.
"Could not we get Jonas to drive a tall stake down?" said Lucy.
"Yes," said Rollo; "I suppose so."
The children went out into the garden to find a good smooth place, and
while they were walking about there, Rollo's mother came out, and they
told her the whole story. She seemed quite interested in the plan, and
told them of a better way than any that they had thought of.
"You see," said she, "that the _height_ of the stake or pole that makes
the shadow is not material; for the shadow of a small one will vary just
as much, in proportion to its length, as that of a long one will. So,
instead of taking a wooden stake, out of doors, you might take a large
pin, and drive it down a little way into the window sill, in the house.
Then you can mark the shadow with a pen, very exactly."
"So we can," said Lucy, clapping her hands.
"And you might put a piece of white paper, or a card down first,"
continued Rollo's mother, "and drive the pin through that, and then mark
the places where the end of the shadow comes every day, directly on the
card, with a fine pen. Thus you could be a great deal more exact than
you can in chalking upon a barn floor."
Rollo asked his mother if she would not be kind enough to help them fix
their apparatus; but she said she would give them particular directions,
though she should prefer letting them do the whole themselves, and then,
if they met with any difficulties, they might come and report them to
her, and she would tell them how to surmount them. So she recommended to
them to go and find a blank card, or piece of white pasteboard, or of
stiff white paper, as big as a common card. "Then," said she, "choose
some window where the sun shines in at noon, and put the card down upon
the sill, and drive the pin down through it. But you must not drive the
pin through the middle of the card, for the shadow will always be off to
the north of the pin, and therefore the pin may be pretty near the south
end of the card. Then the shadow will be more likely to come wholly upon
the card, even when it is longest. You had better place the card in such
a position, too, that its sides shall lie in the direction of north and
south. Then the shadow at noon will lie along exactly in the middle of
it. You must get a large and stout pin, too; and drive it in firmly, a
little way, with a small hammer. It will be well, too, to drive another
smaller pin into the other end of the card, so as to keep it fixed in
its north and south position."
"How can we know when it is north and south, exactly?" said Lucy.
"You cannot do it exactly," said Rollo's mother; "but you can get it
pretty near. One way is to borrow father's little compass, and adjust it
by that. Another way is to see when it is exactly twelve o'clock by the
clock, and then the shadow of the pin will of itself be about north.
"Then you might move the north end of the card until the shadow is
brought exactly into the middle of the card, and then put the other pin
in, and fix it in that place. Then if you make a mark along where the
shadow comes, that mark will be a north and south line, and you can mark
the place where the shadow of the pin's head crosses that line, when it
crosses it every day at noon."
The children said that they believed they understood the directions, and
they determined to try the plan. They thought they would fix two cards,
one at Rollo's house, and one at Lucy's; and they immediately went off
in pursuit of blank cards and big pins.
PRUNING.
One afternoon, Rollo saw his father coming out into the garden, with a
little saw and a knife, and a small pot of paint in his hands.
"Father," said he, "are you going to prune your trees now?"
"Yes," said his father.
"Then, shall I go and get my wheelbarrow?"
"Yes," replied his father, again.
So Rollo ran off after his wheelbarrow. It had been arranged, between
him and his father that morning, that they should work in the garden an
hour or two in the afternoon, and that Rollo should pick up all the
cuttings from the trees, and wheel them away, and then, when they were
dry, make a bonfire with them.
Rollo found his wheelbarrow in its proper place, and trundled it along
into the garden.
"Father," said he, "what trees are you going to prune first?"
"O, I am going to begin at the back side of the garden, and prune them
all, advancing regularly to the front."
"What is the saw for?" said Rollo.
"To saw off the large branches, that I can't cut off easily with a
knife."
"But I should not think you would want to saw off any large branches,
for so you will lose all the apples that would grow on them next year."
"Why, sometimes, the branches are dead, and then they would do no good,
but only be in the way."
"But do they do any hurt?" said Rollo.
"Why, they look badly."
"But, I mean, would they do any actual hurt to the tree?"
"Why, I don't know," said his father; "perhaps they would not. At any
rate, if I cut them off pretty close to the living part of the tree, the
bark will then gradually extend out over the little stump that I leave,
and finally cover it over, and take it all in, as it were."
By this time, Rollo and his father had reached the back side of the
garden, and his father showed him the place where he had cut off a limb
the year before, and he saw how the fresh young bark had protruded
itself all around it, and was spreading in towards the centre so as to
cover it over. Rollo then saw that it was better that all old dead limbs
should be cut off.
"That's curious," said Rollo.
"Yes, very curious," said his father. "A tree will take in, and cover
up, almost any thing that is fastened to the wood, in the same manner."
"Will it?" said Rollo.
"Yes," said his father. "If you drive a nail into a tree, the bark will,
after a time, cover it over entirely. Sometimes people find things in
old trees, which were put upon them when they were young."
"How big things?" said Rollo.
"O, I don't know exactly how big. The tree will make an effort to
enclose any thing small or large. Only, if it is very large, it will
take a great while to enclose it, and it might be so large that it never
could enclose it."
"Well, father, how large must it be so that the tree never could enclose
it?"
"O, I don't know, exactly. Once I saw a tree that was growing very near
a rock. After a time it came in contact with it, and it grew and pressed
against it, until the rock crowded into the wood. Then the bark began to
protrude in every direction along the rock, as if it was making an
effort to spread out and take the rock all in. But I don't think it will
ever succeed; for the rock was part of a ledge in a pretty large hill."
"What a silly tree!" said Rollo.
"Father, I believe I will try the experiment some time," continued
Rollo, after a pause.
"Very well," said his father.
"What shall I put into the tree?" asked Rollo.
"You might put in a cent," said his father, "and then, if it should get
fairly enclosed, I presume the tree will keep it safe for you a good
many years."
Rollo determined to do it. "Then," said he, "I shall never be out of
money, and that will be excellent." His father told him that he must
make a small cleft in the bark and wood, with a chisel and mallet, and
then drive the cent in, edgewise, a little way.
So Rollo got his chisel and mallet, and inserted the cent according to
his father's directions, and by that time there were a good many
branches and twigs on the ground, which his father had taken off from
the trees, and so he began to pick them up, and put them into his
wheelbarrow.
They went on working together for some time, and talking while they
worked. Rollo was continually asking his father questions, and his
father sometimes answered them, and sometimes did not, but was silent
and thoughtful, as if he was thinking of something else. But whether he
got answers or not, Rollo went on talking.
[Illustration]
"Father," said Rollo, at length, after a short pause, during which he
had been busily at work putting twigs into his wheelbarrow, "Henry has
got a very interesting book."
His father did not answer.
"_I_ think it is a very interesting book indeed. Should not you like to
read it, father?"
His father was just then reaching up very high to saw off a pretty large
limb, and he paid no attention to what Rollo was saying. So Rollo went
on talking half to himself--
"One story is about Aladdin and his lamp. If he rubbed his lamp, he
could have whatever he wished; something would come, I have forgotten
what its name was, and bring him whatever he asked for."
Just then, down came the great branch which his father had been sawing
off, falling from its place on the tree to the ground.
Rollo looked at it a moment, and then, when his father began sawing
again, he said,
"Should not you like such a lamp, father?"
"Such a lamp as what, my son?" said his father.
"Why, such a one as Aladdin's."
"Aladdin's! why, what do you know of Aladdin's lamp?"
"Why, I read about it in Henry's story book," said Rollo. "I just told
you, father."
"Did you?" said his father. "Won't you just hand me up the paint brush?"
"Well, father," said Rollo, as he handed him the brush, "don't you
wish you had an Aladdin's lamp?"
"No, not particularly," said his father.
"O father!" exclaimed Rollo, with surprise, "I am sure _I_ do. Don't you
wish _I_ had such a lamp, father?"
"No," said his father.
"Why, father, I really think I could do some good with it. For instance,
I could just rub my lamp, and then have all your trees pruned for you,
at once, without any further trouble."
"But that would not be worth while; for you might have a much larger and
better garden than this made at once, with thousands of trees, bearing
delicious fruit; and ponds, and waterfalls, and beautiful groves."
"O, so I could," said Rollo.
"And, then, how soon do you think you should get tired of it, and want
another?"
"O, perhaps, I should want another pretty soon; but then I could have
another, you know."
"Yes, and how long do you think you could find happiness, in calling
beautiful gardens into existence, one after another?"
"O, I don't know;--a good while."
"A day?"
"O, yes, father."
"A week?"
"Why, perhaps, I should be tired in a week."
"Then all your power of receiving enjoyment from gardens would be run
out and exhausted in a week; whereas mine, without any Aladdin's lamp,
lasts me year after year, pleasantly increasing all the time without
ever reaching satiety."
"What is satiety, father?"
"The feeling we experience when we have had so much of a good thing that
we are completely tired and sick of it. If I should give a little child
as much honey as he could eat, or let him play all the time, or buy him
a vast collection of pictures, he would soon get tired of these things."
"O father, I never should get tired of looking at pictures."
"I think you would," said his father.
Here the conversation stopped a few minutes, while Rollo went to wheel
away a load of his sticks. Before he returned, he had prepared himself
to renew his argument. He said,
"Father, even if I did get tired of making beautiful gardens, I could
then do something else with the lamp, and that would give me new
pleasure."
"Yes, but the new pleasure would be run out and exhausted just as soon
as the pleasure of having a garden would have been; so that you would,
in a short time, be satiated with every thing, and become completely
wretched and miserable."
"But, father," said Rollo, after being silent a little while, "I don't
think I should get tired of my beautiful gardens very soon: I don't
think I should get tired even of looking at pictures of them."
"Should you like to try the experiment?"
"Yes, sir," said Rollo, very eagerly.
Rollo's father had a great many books of pictures and engravings of
various kinds in his library; and sometimes he used to allow the
children to see them, but only a very few at a time. They had not yet
seen them all. He only allowed them to see them as fast as they had time
to examine them thoroughly, and read about them and understand them.
But now he said to Rollo,
"I could let you have all the books of prints and engravings I have got,
and see them all at one time, and that would be giving you Aladdin's
lamp, exactly, so far as my pictures are concerned."
"Well," said Rollo, clapping his hands.
"But then, in a short time, you would get tired of looking at them; you
would become satiated, and would in fact spoil the whole pleasure by
attempting to enjoy it too fast. But then I think it would perhaps do
you good."
"How, father?"
"Why, by teaching you the value of moderation, and the uselessness of
Aladdin's lamps in all human enjoyments. It would be a very valuable
experiment in intellectual philosophy, which I think it very probable
might be of use to you. So, if you please, you may try it."
"Well, father, I am sure I should like to see the pictures."
"That is all settled then," said his father; "some day you shall."
THE GREAT BEETLE AND WEDGE.
Rollo was coming home one morning after having been away on an errand,
and he saw a large wood pile near Farmer Cropwell's door. Now it
happened that Rollo had once been on a journey pretty far back into the
country; it was at the time when Jonas told him and Lucy the stories
related in the book called "Jonas's Stories." On that journey, Jonas had
one day told him that the sap of the maple-tree was sweet, and had let
him taste of some, where it oozed out at the end of the log. Seeing
Farmer Cropwell's wood pile reminded Rollo of this; and he thought he
would look at the ends of all the logs, and see if he could not find
some drops of sweet sap there.
But he could not, for two reasons: none of those trees were maple-trees,
and then, besides, they were all dry. There was no sap in them of any
kind; at least, not enough to ooze out. While Rollo was looking there,
one of Farmer Cropwell's large boys came out with an axe in his hand. He
rolled out a pretty large log of wood, though it was not very long, and
struck his axe into the end of it, as if he was going to split it.
"I don't believe you can split that great log," said Rollo.
"I don't expect to do it with the axe," said the boy, as he left the axe
sticking in the log.
"How then?" said Rollo.
"I have got beetle and wedges here, round behind the wood pile."
So the boy went to another side of the wood pile, and brought a large
beetle and an iron wedge. When he got back to his log, he started out
the axe which he had left sticking into it. Then Rollo saw that the axe
had made a little indentation, or cleft, in the wood. He put the point
of the wedge into this cleft, and drove it in a very little, with a few
light blows with the axe. Then he took the great heavy beetle, and began
driving the wedge in, with very heavy blows.
Presently, Rollo saw a little crack beginning to extend out each side
from the wedge. The crack ran along across the end of the log, and
thence down the side, and grew wider and wider every moment. At last,
the wedge was driven in as far as it would go, and still the log was not
split open.
"Now stop," said Rollo; "I will put a stick in, and keep the crack open,
while you drive the wedge in, in another place."
"O, that won't do," said the boy; "a stick would not keep it open."
"Why not?" said Rollo.
"Because it is not solid enough; the sides of the cleft draw together
very hard. They would crush the stick."
Here Rollo put his hand into his pocket, and drew out a walnut, and he
asked the boy if it would crack a walnut.
"Try it," said the boy.
So Rollo put the walnut into the crack. He slipped it along until he got
it to a place where the crack was just wide enough to receive it, and
hold it steady. He left it there, and then the boy began to knock out
the wedge.
He struck it first upon one side, and then upon the other, and thus
gradually worked it out. The walnut was crushed all to pieces. The boy
then drove in the wedge again, so as to open the log as it was before.
He then went to the place where he had got the beetle and wedge at
first, and brought a large wooden wedge which he had made before, and
began to put that into the crack, not very far from the iron wedge.
"This will keep it open," said he.
"Yes, I think it will," said Rollo. "But put it up close to the iron
wedge."
"No," said the boy; "for then I can't knock the iron wedge out."
So the boy put the large wooden wedge in, at a little distance from the
iron one, and drove it in rather gently with the beetle. This opened the
cleft a little more, so that the iron wedge came out pretty easily.
"I don't see what makes the sides of the logs draw together so hard,"
said Rollo.
"O, they can't help it," said the boy.
"That is no reason," rejoined Rollo. "I should think that, after the log
is once split open, it would stay so. If I split a piece of wood in two
with my knife, the pieces don't try to come together again."
So Rollo began to examine the log, and to look into the cracks, to see
if he could find out what it was that made the parts draw together so
hard as to crush the walnut. Presently, he observed that the log was not
split open from end to end. The crack commenced at one end, and extended
nearly towards the other, but not quite; so that at this other end the
log was solid and whole, just as it always had been. So Rollo perceived
that the two halves being joined and held together firmly here, they
could only be separated at the other end by the wedge springing them
open, and, of course, by their elasticity they tended to spring together
again. Then besides, he saw, by looking into the crack, a great number
of splinters, large and small, which extended obliquely from one side to
the other, and bound the two sides strongly towards each other.
By this time the boy had got the wedge knocked out.
"It is strange," said Rollo, "that such a small wedge will split such a
tough and solid log."
"O, not very strange," said the boy. "You see," he continued, taking up
the wedge, and pointing to the several parts as he explained them, "you
see here at this part, where it enters the wood it is sharp, and the
sides spread out each way, so that, when I drive it in, they force the
wood apart."
"Why don't they have the back of the wedge wider still? and then it
would force the wood open farther; and then you would not have to put in
a wooden wedge afterwards,--so," he added, making a sign with his
fingers. He put the tips of his fingers together, and then separated his
hands, so as to represent a very blunt-shaped wedge.
"Then it would not drive in so easily," answered the boy. "Perhaps I
could not drive it in at all, if it was so blunt."
"They might have the wedge longer then," said Rollo, "and then it would
be just as tapering, and yet it would be a great deal broader at the
back, because the back would be farther off."
"That would make the wedge a great deal too heavy. It would not drive."
"Why, yes, it would," said Rollo.
"No, it would not," said the boy. "It would be just like a shoemaker's
lap-stone; pounding it would hardly move it."
Rollo did not understand what the boy meant by what he said about the
shoemaker's lap-stone; so he paused a moment, and presently he said,
"I don't think it would make any difference, if it was heavy. And,
besides, it might be made of wood, and that wouldn't be heavy."
"O, wood wouldn't do," said the boy.
Now it happened that while they had been talking, the boy had gone on
driving in his wooden wedge into the cleft that the iron one had made,
and it had been gradually splitting the log open more and more. So that
just as the boy was saying that "a wooden wedge wouldn't do," Rollo was
actually seeing with his own eyes that it _would_ do; for at that moment
the boy gave the last blow, and the halves of the log came apart and
fell over, one to one side, and the other to the other.
"Why, there," said Rollo, "you have split the log open with a wooden
wedge."
"O, that is because I had an iron one in first," said the boy.
"What difference does that make?" said Rollo.
"A great deal of difference," said the boy.
"But _what_ difference?" persisted Rollo.
"I don't know exactly what difference," said the boy; "only I know you
can't do any thing with a wooden wedge until you have first opened a
seam with an iron one."
Rollo was confident that it could not possibly make any difference
whether a wooden wedge was used first or last. The boy was sure that it
did, though he could not tell why. Finally, they determined to try it;
so the boy struck his axe into the end of the next log, and then
attempted to drive in his wooden wedge. But he did not succeed at all.
The wedge would not stay. Rollo told him that he did not strike hard
enough. Then he struck harder, but it did no good. The wedge dropped out
the moment he let go of it, and on taking it up, they found that the
edge of it was bruised and battered; so that even Rollo gave up all
hopes of making it enter.
"Ah!" said the boy, taking up the wedge, and looking at it, "now I know
what the reason is. It is the edge."
"Where?" said Rollo. "Let me see."
"Why, when there is no crack," said the boy, "you see the edge of the
wedge comes against the solid wood, and when I drive, it only bruises
and batters it; but the iron is hard, and goes in. But then, when a
crack is made, the wedge can go in easily; for the edge does not touch;
then only the sides rub against the wood."
"How?" said Rollo. "I don't understand."
"I'll show you in a minute," said the boy. So he took the iron wedge,
and went to work driving it into the log. It soon began to make a crack,
which ran along the log, and opened wider and wider. When, at length, it
was pretty wide, he put the wooden wedge in, and he showed Rollo that
the edge of the wedge did not now have to force its way, but went easily
into the crack, and only the sides came in contact with the two parts of
the log which it was separating.
"That's curious," said Rollo.
"Yes," said the boy.
"I wish I had a little beetle and wedge," said Rollo. "I have got a
hammer. That would do for a beetle, if I only had a wedge."
"O, a hammer won't do," said the boy.
"Why not? Would not an axe do as well as a beetle?"
"No," said the boy, "it would spoil the axe and the wedge too."
"How?" asked Rollo.
"Why, it would bruise it all up,--hard iron knocking against the hard
iron."
"Would it?" said Rollo.
"Yes," replied the farmer's boy; "it would spoil the head of the axe,
and the head of the wedge too."
"Is that the reason why they make a wooden beetle?"
"Yes," said the boy; "and they put iron rings around the ends to keep
the wood from being bruised and battered."
"O, I wish I had a little beetle and wedge!" said Rollo.
"Perhaps you might make one."
"O, I could not make an iron wedge--nor the beetle rings."
"No, but you might make wedges of wood,--pretty hard wood; that would do
to split up pieces of pine boards, and then you would not need any rings
to your beetle."
"Jonas can help me," said Rollo.
"Yes," said the boy; "Jonas will know all about it."
So Rollo set out to go home, full of the idea of making a wooden beetle
and wedge, so as to split up pieces of boards. He determined, in case he
should succeed, to make a smaller one still for Thanny.
THE LITTLE BEETLE AND WEDGE.
When Rollo got home, he looked about for Jonas every where, but could
not find him. He went around the house and yard, calling "Jonas! Jonas!"
very loud. Presently Nathan came out to the door, and told him that his
mother wanted to see him. So Rollo went in to his mother.
"You ought not to make such a noise," said she, "calling Jonas. You
disturb us all."
"But, mother," said he, "I want to find him very much."
"No doubt," said his mother; "but you must find him with your eyes, not
with your tongue."
"Why, mother," said Rollo, laughing, "what do you mean by that?"
"Boys very generally have a habit of trying to find people with their
tongues, that is, by calling them; but it is a very bad habit. You see,"
she continued, "there are five or six persons now in and about the
house, and if you go around calling out for Jonas, you disturb us all;
but if you go about quietly, and _look_ for him, you do not disturb any
body."
"But then it is not so easy to find him by looking for him," said Rollo.
"Why not?" asked his mother.
"Because," said Rollo, "I can call out for him, in a moment, in the
yard, and then if he is any where within hearing, he answers; and so I
know where he is. But it would take me some time to go to all the places
that are within hearing."
"True," said his mother, "I see it is more trouble to find any body with
your eyes, than with your voice; but then it is so much pleasanter for
all the rest of us, that you must submit to it."
So Rollo went away again to look for Jonas. He inquired of Dorothy in
the kitchen, and she told him that she saw Jonas going out towards the
barn a few minutes before. So Rollo went off in pursuit of him.
He found him at work in a little back room in the barn, looking over
some harnesses.
"What are you doing, Jonas?" said Rollo.
"I am overhauling these harnesses, to get them all ready for winter."
"For winter?" said Rollo.
"Yes," replied Jonas; "they are sleigh-harnesses."
"Well, Jonas," said Rollo, "I wanted to see you about a beetle and
wedge. Do you think you could help me about making a little beetle and
wedge?"
"I can help you by my _advice_," said Jonas.
"O, but I want you to help me _make_ them."
Then Jonas asked Rollo what made him think of a beetle and wedge; and
Rollo told him of the conversation he had held with the farmer's boy.
Then Jonas talked a long time about it, giving him particular advice and
direction about the plan, though he said he could not himself go and
help him then, for he could not leave his harnesses.
The advice which Jonas gave him was, substantially, this:--
"The boy was right in what he said about the necessity of having iron
wedges, to split up large logs of hard wood; but you had better have
short pieces of pine boards for your logs, and then wedges of hard wood
will do instead of iron; for hard wood is so much more solid than pine,
that I think wedges of it will answer very well. There are some pieces
of walnut under the bench, which will do finely, and I will give you one
of them."
"I'll go, now, and get it," said Rollo.
"No," said Jonas, "not yet; let me tell you about making the beetle."
So Rollo stood in the door way, waiting to hear what Jonas had to say
about the beetle, but evidently quite impatient to go.
"If you make your wedges of hard wood, it will not be necessary to have
iron rings to your beetle, because it will not get battered much, in
driving wooden wedges. Now you must go to the wood pile, and look out a
piece of round wood, about as large round as my arm, and bore a hole in
it."
"A hole in it!" said Rollo.
"Yes, a small auger hole, to put the handle into. Then you must put the
wood into the saw-horse, and saw off the ends, at a little distance
from the hole, so that, when the handle is put in, it will be like a
mallet."
"A mallet!" said Rollo. "But I wanted a beetle."
"Well, a mallet is a small beetle, without rings."
"Is it?" said Rollo, thoughtfully.
"Yes," replied Jonas; "and if you work slowly and carefully, I think you
can make a pretty good one yourself."
Rollo thought so too, and away he ran to make the experiment. Under the
great work bench, he found, among a quantity of boards and bits of wood,
a number of long bars of walnut, which Jonas had split out from the wood
pile to keep for handles. He took one of these, and carried it off to
the shed, to look for the saw and the hatchet.
The first thing was, as he supposed, to saw off a piece of the wood just
long enough for a wedge. But in this he was mistaken. In doing any piece
of work of this kind, it is always very important to consider which part
it is best to do first. Rollo did not think of this, and so he marked
off a piece of the walnut wood about long enough for a wedge, and then
sawed it off.
"Now," said he, "I must make the sides smooth, and sharpen it."
So he took the piece of wood in his hand, and put one end of it down
upon a large log of wood, and then attempted to smooth and sharpen it,
as he had seen Jonas sharpen a stake. But he could not succeed very
well. The wood was very hard, and he could not cut it. Then it was so
short that it was almost impossible to hold it. At almost every blow of
the hatchet it slipped out of his hand; and then, besides, he was very
much afraid of cutting his fingers; so that, after working laboriously
for some time, he came back to Jonas in despair, holding his wedge in
his hands, which, however, instead of being properly sharpened, was only
rounded off a little at the corners.
"O dear me!" said he to Jonas, as he came up to him with the intended
wedge in his hands, "I can't make a wedge at all. It's no use to try."
Then he explained to Jonas the difficulties that he had met with.
"True," said Jonas; "I see. I advise you to give it up."
"Yes," said Rollo, "the wood is so hard."
"O, no," said Jonas; "_that_ is no great trouble--you could easily
manage that."
"But then I can't hold it."
"That is of no consequence either. I could tell you a way to hold it
well enough."
"What is the reason, then, why you think I had better give up?"
"Because you have not patience enough."
Rollo stood silent and thoughtful as Jonas said this, with his piece of
wood in one hand, and his hatchet in the other.
"It takes a great deal of patience to make a thing which we never made
before."
"Why?" said Rollo.
"O, because there are always unforeseen difficulties. We don't know
exactly how to do it, and are apt to make mistakes; and so we spoil some
of our work, and this makes us impatient and fretful."
"But I could not help coming to you," said Rollo, "when I found I could
not sharpen my wedge."
"I did not blame you for coming to me," said Jonas.
"But you said I was impatient."
"Yes, but not for coming to me--I judged by your looks and tone of
voice. Now if you can keep good-natured and pleasant, so as to go on
steadily and patiently, difficulties or no difficulties, I will help you
by my advice; otherwise, I think you had better give up the plan."
Rollo stood a few minutes leaning on the door, and swinging it back and
forth a little. He seemed to be in doubt whether to be good-natured or
not. At length, the better feelings triumphed, and he said,
"Well, Jonas I will try. How can I hold my wedge while I sharpen it?"
"You must not saw it off until it is all sharpened and smoothed. By that
means, you see, the long end of the stick, that you make it from, will
serve for a handle."
"So it will," said Rollo; "I never thought of that."
So Rollo went off in pursuit of the stick from which he had sawed off
his first wedge, intending to make another upon the end of it, and then
saw it off when it was all ready.
He found that now he could hold his wood very easily, and there was no
danger of cutting his fingers. So he could strike much heavier blows. He
soon sharpened his wedge, and then carried it to Jonas to ask him if he
thought it would do.
"No," said Jonas, "I don't think it will do, very well."
"Won't it?" asked Rollo, looking somewhat disappointed.
"Why, you see the sides are not smooth; and then you have not sharpened
it uniformly. You have cut away more at the corners than you have in the
middle, so that it is thicker in the middle. That is the way that boys
always sharpen wedges."
"Why do they?" asked Rollo.
"I suppose it is because it is easier to cut away at the edges, and so
they get more off there. Now you had better get your wedge as true, and
perfect, and smooth as you can, before you saw it off. It will be a
great deal pleasanter to work with a good wedge than with a poor one,
and so you had better take pains with it, and make as perfect a one as
you can, if you make any."
"But, Jonas," said Rollo, "I can smooth it and finish it, after I get it
sawed off."
"Not half as easily as you can now," said Jonas.
During all this time Jonas kept on with his own work; and now he said
no more, and seemed disposed to leave Rollo to his own decision.
Rollo walked slowly back to the shed. He longed to have his wedge done;
but then Jonas had often told him before, that if he was attempting to
make any thing, it was best to take pains with it, and make it as
complete and perfect as possible, and then he would prize it more, and
take more pleasure in it, when it was done. Rollo knew that this was
good advice, though, like almost all other boys, he was always in such a
hurry to finish any thing that he undertook, and to have it ready for
use, that he did not like to take the necessary pains.
On reflection, however, he concluded to take Jonas's advice; and he
accordingly began to smooth the sides of his wedge again with the
hatchet. He did it slowly and carefully; and after some time he found
that he had got the wedge into a much more perfect shape than before. He
then carried it to Jonas again.
Now Jonas approved it very much, but told him that he had better smooth
it a little more with his knife before sawing it off. Rollo did so; and
then he carried it back to the horse, and sawed it off at the right
distance, and it made an excellent wedge. The edges, at the head of the
wedge, were left somewhat rough by the saw. These, however, he trimmed
off with his knife, and then carried the wedge to Jonas.
"Very well," said Jonas; "now you want one more."
"One more?" said Rollo. "No, I want my beetle next."
"No," said Jonas, "one more wedge. Make all your wedges first."
"Why, Jonas, you see, if I make my beetle next, I can try it with this
wedge, and then I can make another, if I want it, afterwards."
"No," replied Jonas, "that is not a good way. You ought to finish up
your apparatus all complete, before you try it at all. Then you will
take a great deal more pleasure in trying it. Besides, if you get to
work splitting up your wood, you will not want to leave it, and go to
making a new wedge then. Now is the time to do it."
Rollo felt very desirous to make his beetle first, so as "just to try it
a little," as he said. Still, he had so often found, when he had not
followed Jonas's advice, that he was sorry for it afterwards, that he
concluded to make another wedge now. He accordingly went to work again,
and having learned how to do it by his practice upon the first one, he
succeeded very easily, and finished it much quicker than he did before.
Then he went to work upon his beetle. He selected a round stick of wood,
of about the right size, and then examined it carefully to find the part
which was most uniform and regular in its shape; and he bored a hole for
the handle in the middle of this part. He made his handle of pine wood,
for this was much easier to cut, and Jonas told him he thought it would
do nearly as well. When the handle was finished, he drove it into the
hole, and then he sawed off the ends of the stick of wood at the right
distances from the hole. He first took pains to measure on each side, so
as to have the distances exactly the same.
When this was done, he had quite a pretty little mallet. That is, it was
made very much like a carpenter's mallet; still, as a mallet is made
chiefly for the purpose of driving a chisel, and this was, on the other
hand, only intended to be used for splitting wood with a wedge, Jonas
told him he thought it would be strictly proper to call it a _little
beetle_. He worked so slowly and carefully, however, in doing all this,
that the afternoon had entirely passed away when he got the beetle and
the wedges done; and just when he was thinking that he was ready to try
them, he saw Dorothy at the kitchen door, ringing the bell to call him
in to tea.
SPLITTING.
When play time came the next day, Rollo ran after Nathan to show him his
beetle and wedges, and to get him to go out and see him 'split' with
them. Nathan trotted along after him, very much pleased.
Rollo had his beetle in one hand, and his two wedges in the other, and,
as he walked along, he looked over his shoulder towards Nathan, who was
following him, and talked to him by the way, explaining to him something
about his beetle and wedges.
"You see I am going to split, Thanny. I am going to split some kindling
wood for Dorothy. I shall put my wedges into the wood, and then drive
them in with my beetle, and that will make the wood split open more and
more; and perhaps I will let you split a little, Thanny."
By this time Rollo had got out to the shed, and he put his beetle and
wedges down upon the floor, while he went away to get some boards to
split. There were some old boards behind the barn, which Jonas told him
were to be split up to burn, and from these he chose one, which was not
very long, and dragged it to the shed. He placed this upon the
saw-horse, and then sawed off a piece from one end, about as long as he
thought it would be well to have the sticks of kindling wood. After he
had sawed off one piece, he was going to split it up, but then he
reflected that it would be more systematic and workmanlike to finish his
sawing first. So he sawed off another, and another piece, until the
board was all sawed up into short pieces. He placed these together
neatly in a pile, and then taking one of them, he sat down upon the
floor, with Thanny, and prepared to try his beetle and wedges.
"Now," said Rollo, "I think I must have a knife,--some old knife or
other,--to make a little place to drive my wedge in. Thanny, why can't
you go and ask Dorothy to let me have a knife? Come, that's a good boy."
So Nathan got up off of the floor, where he had been sitting by Rollo's
side, and went in for a knife. In a few minutes he came out, and
asked Rollo if a broken one would do. He had brought out a broken knife.
The handle was whole and strong, but the blade was broken in two, about
in the middle.
"Why, yes," said Rollo, taking the knife and looking at it, "I believe
that will do.
"Yes," he continued, "I shall like this better, for I can keep this all
the time, with my wedges. And besides, I believe that I can drive it
better."
So Rollo held the edge of the knife to the end of the board, and then
drove it in a little way, with his little beetle. This made a small
opening or cleft in the angle or edge of the board at one end. Then he
began to drive in his wooden wedge, telling Nathan to look carefully and
see when it began to split. Nathan stood near him, stooping down, with
his hands upon his knees, and looking on with great attention.
[Illustration]
Rollo drove in his wedge, and it proceeded admirably. The wood soon
began to crack, and the crack gradually extended almost to the end of
the board. When he had driven it in pretty far, he told Nathan to see
how he was going to manage with his second wedge. He was now very glad
that he had followed Jonas's advice, and made the second wedge before
trying the first. He inserted the second wedge in the crack, and drove
it in. This forced the wood open more, and loosened the first wedge, so
that he could easily get it out again, and very soon the board was split
entirely in two. Nathan was very much delighted with the whole
operation.
In the same manner, Rollo split two or three other pieces off from his
board, and then Nathan wanted him to let _him_ split one. Rollo was at
first somewhat unwilling to let his little beetle go out of his hand at
all, he was so interested in using it; but considering that it would
give Nathan a good deal of pleasure, he concluded to let him try it
once.
"I will start it for you, Thanny," said he. And he accordingly made a
small cleft by driving in his knife; and then he inserted the wedge, and
drove that in too, just far enough to start the crack, and enable the
wood to retain the wedge. Nathan then took the beetle, and pounded away.
He found that he could not strike such heavy blows as Rollo could, and
yet the wedge gradually penetrated farther and farther, and the crack
opened wider and wider, to Nathan's great delight. Rollo was himself
gratified to see how much his little brother was pleased with his beetle
and wedges. When the first wedge was driven fully in, he handed him the
other, and showed him how to insert that into the crack made by the
first wedge, at a little distance from it. Nathan then drove in the
second wedge, and this soon finished the work, for it split the piece
off entirely, and Nathan took it up, and looked at it, very much pleased
at what he had done.
"Now," said Rollo, "give me the beetle again."
"No," said Nathan, "I want to split some more."
"O, no," said Rollo, in a tone of good-humored expostulation; "no; it is
_my_ beetle and wedge. I let you have it to split one stick off; but now
you ought to let me have it again, immediately."
"No," said Nathan, "I want to split some more."
Rollo took up the two wedges, and would not let Nathan have them, and
Nathan held the beetle away behind him so that Rollo should not have
that. Thus they seemed to be in inextricable difficulty. Rollo did not
know what to do.
"Nathan," said he, at length, after a pause, "give me my beetle."
"No," said Nathan, "_I_ want to split."