“Yes,” said Forester, “I did.  Don’t it fit your case pretty well?”

“Why, I don’t know,” said Marco.  “I don’t see why he could not let me have his knife.”

“Suppose I had asked him for his knife; don’t you suppose he would have lent it to me?”

“Yes,” said Marco, “I’ve no doubt he would; he would do any thing for you, of course, because you pay him—­or uncle pays him, which is the same thing.”

“I don’t think that that is the reason altogether,” replied Forester.  “There was the man at the mill to-day, who said that I might take his boat and do any thing I chose to do with it.”

“Yes,” said Marco, “I noticed that.”

“And perhaps you thought it was very much to his credit that he did so.”

“Yes,” said Marco.

“But the fact is,” rejoined Forester, “as I think, it was more to my credit than his; because I have had his boat a great many times heretofore, and his having so much confidence in me now, shows how I have acted with his property before.  I have always taken a great deal of pains to use it carefully, to bring it back to its place safely, to get the water out, if there was any in it, and leave every thing in order.  I have done this, not only because it is just and right that I should not make him suffer inconvenience on account of his doing me a favor, but as a matter of policy.”

“What do you mean by a matter of policy?” asked Marco.

“Why, regard to my own interest.  If I did not do so, I should soon make people unwilling to lend me their things.  And I think there must be some good reason why James is not willing to lend you his knife.”

“Why, he says,” answered Marco, “that I don’t bring back his things.”

“Ah!” rejoined Forester, “that’s it.  I thought there must be some such reason as that.  You have lost your character with James, and I advise you to acquire a new one as soon as you can.  Besides, you have done him injustice this evening.  You represented him as refusing you his knife because he was unaccommodating and selfish, whereas it was only proper regard to the safety of his property.  What you said was calculated to make an unfavorable impression on my mind against him, and one which would have been unjust.”

Marco perceived that it was so, and was silent.

“I am sorry that your knife is rusty,” resumed Forester.  “Perhaps I can get it open for you.”

“How?” asked Marco.

“Why, I believe the best way is to soak the joint in oil.  The oil will insinuate itself into the joint, and then we can get hold of the blade with a pair of nippers, or something of the kind, and open it; and then, by working it to and fro a few times, the rust will work out, and the knife be as good as it was before.  If it is very rusty indeed, this plan will not answer.”

“What must be done in that case?” asked Marco.

“The only way then is to carry it to some kind of smith and get him to punch out the rivet.  Then we can take the blade out entirely.  By this means we can clean it of its rust, and then put it in again with a new rivet.  If you will give me your knife to-morrow, I will try to put it in order for you again, in one or the other of these ways.