Mary Erskine and the three remaining children, then went back to the house, where Bella and Malleville amused themselves for half an hour in building houses with the blocks in Thomas’s shop, when all at once Malleville was surprised to see Beechnut coming in.  Beechnut, was returning from the mill, and as the children had had to walk nearly all the way to Mary Erskine’s, he thought it very probable that they would be too tired to walk back again.  So he had left his horse and wagon at the corner, and had walked out to the farm to take the children home with him, if they were ready to go.

“I am not ready to go,” said Malleville, after having heard this story, but I will go for the sake of the ride.  I am too tired to walk all the way.  But Phonny is not here.  He has gone a-fishing.”

“Where has he gone?” said Beechnut.

“Down to the brook,” replied Malleville.

“I will go and find him,” said Beechnut.

So saying, Beechnut left the shop, went out into the yard, and began to walk down the path which led toward the brook.  Very soon he saw Phonny coming out from among the bushes with his pole over his shoulder, and walking along with quite a disconsolate air.  Beechnut sat down upon a log by the side of the road, to wait for him.

“Did you catch any fishes?” said Beechnut, as Phonny approached him.

“No,” said Phonny, despondingly.

“I am glad of that,” said Beechnut.

“Glad!” said Phonny, looking up surprised, and somewhat displeased.  “What are you glad for?”

“For the sake of the fishes,” said Beechnut.

“Hoh!” said Phonny.  “And the other day, when I did catch some, you said you were glad of that.”

“Yes,” said Beechnut, “then I was glad for your sake.  There is always a chance to be glad for some sake or other, happen what may.”

This, though very good philosophy, did not appear to be just at that time at all satisfactory to Phonny.

“I have had nothing but ill-luck all this afternoon,” said Phonny, in a pettish tone.  “That great ugly black horse of Thomas’s trod on my foot.”

“Did he?” said Beechnut; his countenance brightening up at the same time, as if Phonny had told him some good news.

“Yes,” said Phonny, “Thomas came along near where I was fishing, and I laid down my fishing-line, and went up to the horse, and was standing by his head, and he trod on my foot dreadfully.”

“Did he?” said Beechnut, “I am very glad of that.”

“Glad of that!” repeated Phonny.  “I don’t see whose sake you can be glad of that for.  I am sure it did not do the horse any good.”

“I am glad of that for your sake,” said Beechnut.  “There never was a boy that grew up to be a man, that did not have his foot trod upon at some time or other by a horse.  There is no other possible way for them to learn that when a horse takes up his foot, he will put it down again wherever it happens, and if a boy’s foot is under it, it will get trod upon.  There is no possible way for boys to learn that but by experiencing it.  The only difference is, that some boys take the treading light, and others get it heavy.  You have got it light.  So if you have only learned the lesson, you have learned it very easily, and so I am glad.”