Rollo in Scotland. Abbott Jacob

the building of each one, and watching her motions. He now proposed that Rollo should go forward to the bridge with him, where they could have a better lookout.

      "Well," said Rollo. So the two boys went together to the bridge.

      The bridge was a sort of narrow platform, extending across the steamer, from one paddle wheel to the other, for the captain or pilot to walk upon, in order to see how the steamer was going, and to direct the steering. When they are in the open sea any of the passengers are allowed to walk here; but in coming into port, or into a river crowded with shipping, then a notice is put up requesting passengers not to go upon the bridge, inasmuch as at such times it is required for the exclusive use of the captain and pilot.

      This notice was up when Waldron and Rollo reached the bridge.

      "See," said Rollo, pointing at the notice. "We cannot go there."

      "O, never mind that," said Waldron. "They'll let us go. They only mean that they don't want too many there—that's all."

      But Rollo would not go. Mr. George had accustomed him, in travelling about the world, always to obey all lawful rules and orders, and particularly every direction of this kind which he might find in public places. Some people are very much inclined to crowd upon the line of such rules, and even to encroach upon them till they actually encounter some resistance to drive them back. They do this partly to show their independence and importance. But Mr. George was not one of this sort.

      So Rollo would not go upon the bridge.

      "Then let us go out on the forecastle," said Waldron. He pointed, as he spoke, to the forecastle, which is a small raised deck at the bows of a steamer, where there is an excellent place to see.

      "No," said Rollo, "I will not go on the forecastle either. Uncle George's rule for me on board ship is, that I may go where I see other gentlemanly passengers go, and nowhere else. The passengers do not go on the forecastle."

      "Yes," said Waldron, "there are some there now."

      "There is only one," said Rollo, "and he has no business there."

      During the progress of this conversation the boys had sat down upon the upper step of a steep flight of stairs which led down from the promenade deck to the main deck. They could see pretty well where they were, but not so well, Waldron thought, as they could have seen from the forecastle.

      "I think we might go on the forecastle as well as not," said Waldron, "even according to your own rule. For there is a passenger there."

      "I think it is doubtful," said Rollo.

      "Well," said Waldron, "we'll call it doubtful. We will draw lots for it."

      So saying, Waldron put his hand in his pocket, and, after fumbling about there a minute or two, took it out, and held it before Rollo with the fingers shut, so that Rollo could not see what was in it.

      "Odd or even?" said Waldron.

      Rollo looked at the closed hand, with a smile of curiosity on his face, but he did not answer.

      "Say odd or even," continued Waldron. "If you hit, that will prove that you are right, and we will not go to the forecastle; but if you miss, then we will go."

      Rollo hesitated a moment, not being quite sure that this was a proper way of deciding a question of right and wrong. In a moment, however, he answered, "Even."

      Waldron opened his hand, and Rollo saw that there was nothing in it.

      "There," said Waldron, "it is odd, and you said even."

      "No," said Rollo, "it is not either even or odd. There is nothing at all in your hand."

      "Well," said Waldron, "nothing is a number, and it is odd."

      "O Waldron!" said Rollo, "it is not any number at all. Besides, if it is a number, it is not odd—it is even."

      "Yes," said Waldron, "it is a number, for you can add it, and subtract it, and multiply it, and divide it, just as you can any other number."

      "O Waldron!" exclaimed Rollo again. "You can't do any such thing."

      ODD OR EVEN.

      "Yes," said Waldron, "I can add nothing to one, and it makes one. So, I can take nothing away from one, and it leaves one.

      "I can multiply nothing, too. I can multiply it by ten. Ten times nothing are nothing. So I can divide it. Five in nothing no times, and nothing over."

      Rollo was somewhat perplexed by this argument, and he did not know what to reply. Still he would not admit that nothing was a number—still less that it was an odd number. He did not believe, he said, that it was any number at all. The boys continued the discussion1 for some time, and then they concluded to go and refer it to Mr. George.

      And here I ought to say that Waldron had an artful design in taking nothing in his hand, when he called upon Rollo to say, odd or even. He did it in order that whatever answer Rollo might give, he might attempt to prove it wrong. He was a very ingenious boy, and could as easily maintain that nothing was even as that it was odd. Whichever Rollo had said, his plan was to maintain the contrary, and so persuade him to go to the forecastle.

      Mr. George was very much pleased when the boys brought the question to him. Indeed, almost all people are pleased when boys come to them in an amicable manner, to have their controversies settled. Then, besides, he inferred from the nature of the question that had arisen in this case, that Waldron was a boy of considerable thinking powers, or else he would not have taken any interest in a purely intellectual question like this.

      "Well," said Mr. George, "that is quite a curious question. But before I decide it you must first both of you give me your reasons. What makes you think nothing is an odd number, Waldron?"

      "I don't know," said Waldron, hesitating. "I think it looks kind of odd."

      Mr. George smiled at this reason, and then asked Rollo what made him think it was an even number.

      "I don't think it is an even number," said Rollo. "I don't think it is any number at all.

      "However," continued Rollo, "that is not the real question, after all. The real question is, whether we shall go on the forecastle or not, to have a lookout."

      "No," said Mr. George, "it is not according to etiquette at sea for the passengers to go on the forecastle."

      "But they do," said Waldron.

      "Yes," said Mr. George, "they sometimes do, I know; and sometimes, under peculiar circumstances, it is right for them to go; but as a general rule, it is not. That is the place for the sailors to occupy in working the ship. It is something like the kitchen in a hotel. What should you think of the guests at a hotel, if they went down into the kitchen to see what was going on there?"

      Rollo laughed aloud.

      "But we don't go to the forecastle to see what is going on there," said Waldron; "we go for a lookout—to see what is going on away ahead, on the water."

      "True," said Mr. George, "and that is a very important difference, I acknowledge. I don't think my comparison holds good."

      Mr. George was always very candid in all his arguing. It is of very great importance that all persons should be so, especially when reasoning with boys. It teaches them to be candid.

      Just at this time Waldron's attention was attracted by the appearance of a very large steamer, which now came suddenly into view, with its great red funnel pouring out immense volumes of black smoke. Waldron ran over to the other side of the deck to see it. Rollo followed, and thus the explanation which Mr. George might have given, in respect to the arithmetical nature and relations of nothing were necessarily postponed to some future time.

      About half an hour after this, while Rollo was sitting by the side of his uncle, looking at the map, and trying to find out how soon they should come in sight of the famous old Castle of Dunbarton, which stands on a rocky hill upon the banks of the Clyde, Mr. Kennedy came up to him to inquire if he knew where Waldron was.

      Rollo

1

The conversation was a discussion, and not a dispute, for it was calm, quiet, and good-tempered throughout. A dispute is an angry discussion.