Forester, however, did not speak, but let Marco roll his pencil down the slate as long as he pleased.
This was not long, however; Marco soon grew tired of it, and then began to look out the window.

There was a little staple in the window sill, placed there as a means of fastening the blind.

Marco pushed the point of his pencil into this staple, in order to see if it would go through.

It did go through in an instant, and slipping through his fingers, it fell out of the window.
"Dear me! there goes my pencil.

My pencil has dropped out of the window, cousin Forester; shall I go out and get it ?" "Act according to your own judgment," said Forester.