The children's eyes are again turned
toward the door-but it is still locked.
"Father got those out of the Mossbrook Wood," said the girl, pointing to
the stumps; and she added with a precocious look: "They give out lots
of heat, and are worth quite a little; for there is a good deal of resin
in them, and that burns like a torch. But chopping them brings in the
most money."
"If I were already grown up," replied the boy, "I'd take father's big
ax, and the beechwood mallet, and the two iron wedges, and the ash wedge
and break it all up as if it were glass. And then I'd make a fine,
pointed heap of it like the charcoal-burner, Mathew, makes in the woods;
and when father comes home, how pleased he'll be! But you must not tell
him who did it!" the boy concluded, raising a warning finger at his
sister.
She seemed to have a dawning suspicion that it was useless to wait there
for their father and mother, for she looked up at her brother very
sadly. When her glance fell on his shoes, she said:
"Then you must have father's boots, too. But come, we will play ducks
and drakes-you shall see that I can throw farther than you!"
As they walked away, the girl said:
"I'll give you a riddle to guess: What wood will warm you without your
burning it?"
"The schoolmaster's ruler, when you get the spatters," answered the boy.
"No, that's not what I mean: The wood that you chop makes you warm
without your burning it.
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