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