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 instan