“But I shall have to ask you questions when I get into difficulty,” said Marco.

“No,” said Forester, “I hope not.  I mean to contrive it so that you can get out of difficulty yourself.  Let me see.  You will want some pens.  I will get a bunch of quills and make them up into pens for you.”

“What, a whole bunch?” said Marco.

“Yes,” replied Forester.  “I don’t wish to have you come to me, when I am in the midst of a law argument, to get me to make a pen.”

Steel pens were very little used in those days.

While Forester was making the pens, he said,

“There are twenty-five quills in a bunch.  I shall tie them up, when they are ready, into two bunches, of about a dozen in each.  These you will put in your desk.  When you want a pen, you will draw one out of the bunches and use it.  You must not stop to look them over, to choose a good one, but you must take any one that comes first to hand, because, if any one should not be good, the sooner you get it out and try it, and ascertain that it is not good, the sooner you will get it out of the way.”

“Well,” said Marco, “and what shall I do with the bad ones?”

“Wipe them clean,—­by the way, you must have a good penwiper,—­and then put them together in a particular place in your desk.  When you have thus used one bunch, tie them up and lay the bunch on my desk to be mended, and then you can go on using the other bunch.  This will give me opportunity to choose a convenient time to mend the first bunch again.  When I have mended them, I will tie them up and lay them on your desk again.  Thus you will always have a supply of pens, and I shall never be interrupted to mend one.  This will be a great deal more convenient, both for you and for me.”

“Only it will use up a great many more pens,” replied Marco.

“No,” said Forester; “not at all.  We shall have more in use at one time, it is true, but the whole bunch may last as long as if we had only one cut at a time.”

“We shall begin to study,” continued Forester, “at nine o’clock, and leave off at twelve.  That will give you half an hour to run about and play before dinner.”

“And a recess?” said Marco,—­“I ought to have a recess.”

“Why, there’s a difficulty about a recess,” said Forester.  “I shall have it on my mind every day, to tell you when it is time for the recess, and when it is time to come in.”

“O no,” replied Marco, “I can find out when it is time for the recess.  Let it be always at ten o’clock, and I can look at the watch.”

Marco referred to a watch belonging to Forester’s father, which was kept hung up over the mantel-piece in their little study.

“I think it probable you would find out when it was time for the recess to begin,” said Forester, “but you would not be so careful about the end of it.  You would get engaged in play, and would forget how the time was passing, and I should have to go out and call you in.”