ar 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 u