Miss Anne was very much pleased to see the little chicken. She sent Royal out after a small, square piece of board. While he was gone, she got a small flake of cotton batting, and also an old work-basket, from the upper shelf of her closet. Then, when Royal came in with the board, she put the cotton upon it, shaping it in the form of a nest. She put the chicken upon this nest, and then turned the basket down over it, which formed a sort of cage, to keep the little prisoner from getting away. Royal and Lucy could look through the open-work of the basket, and see him.

But Miss Anne, though pleased with the chicken, was very sorry to find that Royal had so monopolizing a spirit. A monopolizing spirit is an eager desire to get for ourselves, alone, that which others ought to have a share of. Royal wanted to own the hen and chickens himself, and to exclude, or shut out, Lucy from all share of them. He wished to monopolize them. Too eager a desire to get what others have, is sometimes called covetousness. Miss Anne resolved to have a conversation with Royal about his monopolizing and covetous disposition.

She did not, however, have a very good opportunity until several days after this; but then a circumstance occurred which naturally introduced the subject.

The circumstance was this.

The children were taking a walk with Miss Anne. They went to a considerable distance from the house, by a path through the woods, and came at length to the banks of a mill stream. The water tumbled over the rocks which filled the bed of the stream. There was a narrow road along the bank, and Miss Anne turned into this road, and walked along up towards the mill, which was only a short distance above.

They saw, before them, at a little distance, a boy about as large as Royal, cutting off the end of a long, slender pole.

“O, see what a beautiful fishing-pole that boy has got!” said Royal.

“Is that a fishing-pole?” said Lucy.

Just then the boy called out, as if he was speaking to somebody in the bushes. “Come, George; ain’t you most ready?”

“Yes,” answered George, “I have got mine just ready; but I want to get a little one for Johnny.”

“O, never mind Johnny,” said the other boy; “he can’t fish.”

By this time, the children had advanced so far that they could see George and Johnny, in a little open place among the bushes. George was about as large as the other boy; and he was just finishing the trimming up of another pole, very much like the one which the children had seen first. There was a very small boy standing by him, who, as the children supposed, was Johnny. He was looking on, while George finished his pole.

“I would not get Johnny one,” said the boy in the road. “He can’t do any thing with it.”

“No,” said George, “but he will like to have one, so that he can make believe fish; shouldn’t you, Johnny?”

“Yes,” said Johnny; or rather he said something that meant yes; for he could not speak very plain.

“Well,” said the boy in the road, “I am not going to wait any longer.” He accordingly shut up his knife, put it into his pocket, and walked along. George scrambled back into the bushes, and began to look about for a pole for Johnny. Miss Anne and the children were now opposite to them.

“Johnny,” said Miss Anne, “do you expect that you can catch fishes?”

Johnny did not answer, but stood motionless, gazing upon the strangers in silent wonder.

Miss Anne smiled, and walked on, and the children followed her. Presently George and Johnny came up behind them,—George walking fast, and Johnny trotting along by his side. When they had got before them a little way, they turned out of the road into a path which led down towards the stream, which here was at a little distance from the road. The path led in among trees and bushes; and so Miss Anne and the children soon lost sight of them entirely.

“George seems to be a strange sort of a boy,” said Miss Anne.

“Why?” asked Royal.

“Why, he cannot be contented to have a fishing-pole himself, unless little Johnny has one too.”

“Is that very strange?” asked Royal.

“I thought it was rather unusual,” said Miss Anne. “Boys generally want to get things for themselves; but I did not know that they were usually so desirous to have their brothers gratified too.”

“I do,” said Royal; “that is, I should, if I had a brother big enough.”

“You have a sister,” said Miss Anne.

“Well,” said Royal, “if I was going a fishing, and Lucy was going too, I should want to have her have a fishing-pole as well as I.”

“It is not always so with boys, at any rate,” said Miss Anne. “And that makes me think of a curious thing that happened once. A little boy, whom I knew, had a beautiful picture-book spoiled by a little gray dog, in a very singular way.”

“How was it?” said Royal.

“Tell us, Miss Anne,” said Lucy; “tell us all about it.”

“Well, this boy’s father bought him a very beautiful picture-book, with colored pictures in it, and brought it home, and gave it to him. And the next day the little gray dog spoiled it entirely.”

“How?” said Lucy.

“Guess.”

“Why, he bit it, and tore it to pieces with his teeth, I suppose,” said Lucy. “No,” said Miss Anne.

“Then he must have trampled on it with his muddy feet,” said Royal.

“No,” said Miss Anne, “it could not be in any such way, for it was not a live dog.”

“Not a live dog!” said Lucy.

“No, it was a little glass dog,—gray glass; only he had black ears and tail.”

“I don’t see how he could spoil a book,” said Royal.

“He did,” answered Miss Anne.

“The book gave Joseph a great deal of pleasure before the dog came, and after that, it was good for nothing to him.”

“Joseph?” said Royal; “who was he?”

“Why, he was the little boy that had the book. Didn’t I tell you his name before?”

“No,” said Royal; “but tell us how the dog spoiled the book.”

“Why, you must understand,” said Miss Anne, “that Joseph had a little sister at home, named Mary; and when their father brought home the book to Joseph, he had nothing for Mary. But the next day, he was in a toy-shop, and he saw this little glass dog, and he thought that it would be a very pretty little present for Mary. So he bought it, and carried it home to her.” “Well, Miss Anne, tell on,” said Lucy, when she found that Miss Anne paused, as if she was not going to say anything more.

“Why, that is about all,” said Miss Anne, “only that he gave the dog to Mary.”

“But you said that the dog spoiled Joseph’s book.”

“So it did. You see, when Joseph came to see the dog, he wanted it himself, so much that he threw his book down upon the floor, and came begging for the dog; and he could not take any pleasure at all in the book after that.”

“Is that all?” said Royal; “I supposed it was going to be something different from that.”

“Then you don’t think it is much of a story!”

“No,” said Royal.

“Nor I,” said Lucy.

“Well, now, I thought,” said Miss Anne, “that that was rather a singular way for a dog to spoil a picture-book.”

There was a moment’s pause after Miss Anne had said these words; and then, an instant afterwards, the whole party came suddenly out of the woods; and the mill, with a bridge near it, crossing the stream, came into view.

“O, there is a bridge,” said Lucy; “let us go over that bridge.” “Well,” said Royal, “so we will.”

They walked on towards the bridge; but, just before they got to it, Royal observed that there were ledges of rocks below the bridge, running out into the water; and he said that he should rather go down upon those rocks.

Miss Anne said that she should like to go down there too, very much, if she thought it was safe; and she concluded to go down, slowly and carefully, and see. They found that, by exercising great caution, they could advance farther than they had supposed. Sometimes Royal, who was pretty strong, helped Miss Anne and Lucy down a steep place; and sometimes they had to step over a narrow portion of the torrent. They found themselves at last all seated safely upon the margin of a rocky island, in the middle of the stream, with the water foaming, and roaring, and shooting swiftly by, all around them.

“There,” said Royal, “isn’t this a good place?”

“Yes,” said Lucy; “I never saw the water run so much before.”

“Children,” said Miss Anne, “look down there!”

“Where?” said Royal.

“There, upon the bank, under the trees, down on that side of the stream,—a little below that large, white rock.”

“Some boys,” said Royal. “They’re fishing.”

“I see ’em,” said Lucy.

“Yes,” said Royal, “they are the same boys we saw in the road.”

“Yes,” said Miss Anne; “and don’t you see Johnny running about with his pole?”

“Where?” said Lucy; “which is Johnny?”

“That’s he,” said Royal, “running about. Now he’s gone down to a sandy place upon the shore. See, he’s reaching out with his pole, as far as he can, upon the water; he is trying to reach a little piece of board that is floating by. There, he has got it, and is pulling it in.”

“I am glad George got him a pole,” said Miss Anne.

“So am I,” said Royal.

“And so am I,” said Lucy.

“It seems George is happier himself, if Johnny has something to make him happy too; but the other boy isn’t.”

“How do you know that he isn’t?” asked Lucy.

“Why, he did not want George to stop. He had got a pole himself, and he did not care any thing about Johnny’s having one.” “Yes,” said Royal, “so I think.”

“Some children,” said Miss Anne, “when they have anything that they like, always want their brothers and sisters to have something too; and George seems to be one of them.

“And that makes me think,” continued Miss Anne, “of the story of the horse and the picture-book.”

“What is the story?” said Royal.

“Why, it is a story of a little wooden horse, which, instead of spoiling a picture-book, as the dog did, made it much more valuable.”

“Tell us all about it,” said Lucy.

“Very well, I will,” said Miss Anne. “There was once a boy named David. His uncle sent him, one new year’s day, a picture-book. There was a picture on every page, and two on the cover. He liked his picture-book very much indeed; but one thing diminished the pleasure he took in looking at it.”

“What do you mean by diminished?” asked Lucy.

“Why, made it smaller,” said Royal.

“Yes,” said Miss Anne; “and the circumstance which made his pleasure in the picture-book less than it otherwise would have been, was, that his little brother Georgie had no new book or plaything. David showed Georgie his book, and sometimes let him have it by himself; but he would have liked it better, if Georgie had had a present of his own.”

“And now about the horse?” said Royal.

“Well,—that evening, when these boys’ father came home to supper, he brought something tied up in a paper, which, he said, was for Georgie. David took it, and ran to find Georgie,—hoping that it was some present for him. Georgie opened it, and found that it was a handsome wooden horse, on wheels,—with a long red cord for a bridle, to draw him about by. David was very much pleased at this; and now he could go and sit down upon his cricket, and look at his book, with a great deal more pleasure; for Georgie had a present too. So, you see, the horse made the picture-book more valuable.”

The children sat still a short time, thinking of what Miss Anne had said; and at length Royal said,

“Are these stories which you have been telling us true, Miss Anne?”

“No,” said Miss Anne, quietly.

“Then you made them up.”

“Yes,” said Miss Anne.

“What for?” said Lucy. “Why, to show you and Royal,” said Miss Anne, “the difference between a monopolizing and covetous spirit, and one of generosity and benevolence, which leads us to wish to have others possess and enjoy, as well as ourselves.”

Royal, pretty soon after this, proposed that he and Lucy should find some sticks upon the little island, where they were sitting, and throw them upon the water, and see them sail down; and they did accordingly amuse themselves in this way for some time. Lucy was very much amused to see the sticks shoot along the rapids, and dive down the little cascades among the rocks. Miss Anne helped them throw in one piece of plank, which had drifted down from the mill, and which was too large and heavy for them to lift alone. They watched this for some time, as it floated away far down the stream.

At last, it was time to go home; and they all went back, very carefully, over the stones, until they got back to the shore; and then they walked home by a new way, over a hill, where they had a beautiful prospect.

That night, just before sundown, when Royal and Lucy went out to see their chickens, Royal told Lucy that she might have the little black chicken and two others for her own. “Well,” said Lucy, clapping her hands, “and will you let me keep them in your coop?”

“Yes,” replied Royal; “or I will let you own the coop with me;—you shall have a share in the coop, in proportion to your share of the chickens.”

“In proportion?” said Lucy; “what does that mean?”

“Why, just as much of the coop as you have of the chickens,” said Royal.

“Well,” said Lucy, “how much of the coop will it be, for three chickens?”

“O, I don’t know,” said Royal.

“So much?” said Lucy, putting her hand upon the side of the coop, so as to mark off a small portion of it.

“O, I don’t mean,” said Royal, “to divide it. We will own it all together, in partnership; only you shall have a small share, just in proportion to your chickens.”

Lucy did not understand this very well, but she thought more about the chickens than about the coop; and she began to look at them, one by one, carefully, to consider which she should have for hers. She chose two, besides the black one; and she said that she meant to get Miss Anne to name them for her. Royal took a great deal of pleasure, after this, every time that he came out to see his chickens, in observing how much interest Lucy took, every day, in coming to see her chickens, and how much enjoyment it afforded her to be admitted thus to a share in the property.