us with shelter

carpenter on roof as carriage drives by

the carpenter

i. a trip into the country

“it’s just possible that i may be home very early, perhaps in time for twelve o’clock lunch,” remarked mr. duwell, one saturday morning as he was starting for business.

“oh, wouldn’t that be fine!” exclaimed the children. “we’ll be looking for you.”

even before the noon whistles had ceased blowing, three eager faces were peering out of the windows, for mrs. duwell was as interested as ruth and wallace.[155]

“oh, i do hope father will come soon!” exclaimed ruth.

“i am sure to see him first,” said wallace with a superior air. “i can see farther than you!”

“you can’t see father any better than i can,” replied ruth, “for i see him this minute.”

“you do? where?” asked wallace.

“i certainly do—may i run to meet him, mother?”

“oh, i see him!” cried wallace. “i am going, too!”

“yes, run!” said mrs. duwell. “you both have better eyes than i have.” almost before she had finished speaking, the children were racing toward a carriage. as the driver drew rein, they climbed in.

“well, here we are!” mr. duwell sang out, as they drove up in front of the door. “what does the duwell family say to a ride this pleasant afternoon?”

“what a grand surprise!” called mrs. duwell, who was now standing on the top step.

“i am going to get an apple for the horse,” cried wallace, and away he ran. in a moment he returned.

“how does that taste, old fellow?” he asked,[156] rubbing the horse’s soft nose as he munched the apple.

“he isn’t really hungry,” said mr. duwell. “he had his dinner just before we left the livery stable, and the stable man gave me a bag of grain for his supper; but i guess he doesn’t often get apples.”

it didn’t take long to eat lunch that day, the family were so excited.

“where are we going, father?” asked wallace.

“just into the country,” said mr. duwell. “it has been so long since we have seen the green fields that i thought a trip would do us all good.”

soon they left the city streets behind, and came to a beautiful country road, along which they drove for several miles.

“oh, see that funny-looking house!” exclaimed ruth suddenly. “it looks like a cage!”

“that isn’t a house, yet,” said mr. duwell; “it is only the frame-work.”

“oh,” exclaimed wallace, “is that the way wooden houses are built?”

“it is, little city people,” replied mr. duwell. “no wonder you are not familiar with such a sight. city houses are not built of wood, because of the danger of fire.”

[157]

“i should like to see that house closer,” said wallace.

“we’ll drive over there,” his father agreed, turning the horse’s head.

as they drew near, wallace exclaimed, “why, there’s mr. emerson on the porch; he is my teacher. i wonder what he is doing here.”

at that moment mr. emerson saw the boy. “good afternoon, wallace,” he said, lifting his hat and bowing to the party as he came toward the carriage.

“good afternoon, mr. emerson,” said wallace, lifting his cap; “i should like to have you meet my mother and father.”

mr. emerson bowed, and shook hands with mr. and mrs. duwell.

“and this is wallace’s sister, ruth,” said mr. duwell.

“i am glad to know you, ruth,” mr. emerson said. “are you thinking of moving into the country?” he asked after a minute. “if so; i hope you will be my neighbors.”

“do you live here, mr. emerson?” asked wallace.

“not yet,” replied mr. emerson, smiling; “but we hope to when the new house is finished.”

[158]

“what a comfortable home it will be,” said mr. duwell.

mr. emerson looked pleased. “won’t you come in and see the plan?” he asked.

“thank you, we shall be delighted to,” said mr. duwell.

ii. the sawmill

after they had gone all over the house, they bade mr. emerson good-by and drove away.

“won’t it be fine! how i should love to live there!” the children were still talking about the new house.

“where do you suppose mr. emerson got the wood?” questioned ruth.

“i know,” answered wallace; “at the lumber yard.”

men walking on logs in river

[159]

“did he, father? couldn’t he have just chopped down some of those trees over there?” asked ruth, pointing to a wooded hill to the right.

“i hardly think so,” replied mr. duwell. “before trees can be used in building they have to be—”

“sawed into boards and planks,” finished wallace.

“good!” said his father. “and where is that done?”

“at the sawmill,” said the boy.

“that reminds me—” said mrs. duwell; “there is a sawmill over at the bottom of that hill. mr. emerson told me about it. some of his lumber came from there.”

“then this road must lead to it,” said mr. duwell, pulling up at a cross-road that ran through the woods towards the hill.

“what does that sign-post say, wallace?”

wallace jumped out and examined the dingy sign, which was hardly readable.

“sawmill road; this is the right way!” he cried.

they had not driven far along the shady road when a peculiar, whistling sound met their ears.

“there’s the saw, now, i believe!” exclaimed mrs. duwell.

[160]

“so it is,” said mr. duwell. “trot along, boy!” he urged the horse.

at a turn in the road they came upon the old sawmill, nestling at the foot of the hill. the smooth mill pond shone brightly in the sun. as the water fell over the dam, it tumbled into a noisy little brook which ran under a bridge and away down the valley. the refreshing odor of pine and cedar filled the air.

several men were busy sawing the trunk of a pine tree into long, clean planks. the children watched the circular saw with wonder as its sharp teeth ate into the sweet-smelling wood. its shrill music delighted them.

“yes, sir,” the foreman replied to a question of mr. duwell’s, “most sawmills are run by steam power. very few old-fashioned water wheels are left in this part of the country. let me show you our wheel.”

“this is the sluice-way,” he explained, pointing to a long narrow canal full of flowing water. “the sluice-way leads the water from the pond to the top of the wheel.”

going down a flight of steps on the outside of the building, they stood right beside the old moss-covered wheel. it was a huge wooden framework[161] with shelves or buckets all around the wide rim to catch the water.

the water poured out of the sluice-way over the wheel, turning it slowly and steadily. as the wheel turned, the water kept falling with noisy splashes into the stream below.

“what makes it go round?” asked wallace eagerly.

“the force and weight of the water pouring over it,” replied the foreman. “that is what we call water power.”

“think of it, children!” said mr. duwell. “that old wheel helped to build mr. emerson’s house.”

“yes,” said the foreman, “it has helped to build many houses besides mr. emerson’s. that old water wheel has been sawing wood just as you see it now for over a hundred years.”

iii. the carpenter

on the way home the little party talked about their adventures.

“mr. emerson must have had help to build a house like that,” remarked ruth after a pause.

“oh, he didn’t build it, goosey,” said wallace.

“who did, then, mr. know-it-all?”

[162]

“why, the carpenter, of course,” wallace replied.

“oh, i see,” exclaimed ruth. “the carpenter builds the house for mr. emerson, and mr. emerson has time to teach you boys.”

“that is exactly right, little girl,” said her father.

“besides, no one person can do many things well. perhaps mr. emerson is a better teacher for not trying to do too many things,” mrs. duwell added.

“i think a carpenter is wonderful, don’t you?” said wallace.

“the greatest man that ever lived was a carpenter,” said his mother.

“whoa, boy!” exclaimed mr. duwell, drawing up the reins sharply. “don’t get frightened at a piece of paper, when you’ve done so well. whoa, there, boy!”

the horse seemed to understand the quiet gentle voice, and settled down to an even trot.

“he will go well enough now,” said mrs. duwell. “he knows we are headed for home.”

“so we are! i wish we were headed the other way,” said wallace. “what makes a good time so short?” he asked, so seriously that everybody laughed.

[163]

iv. the wolf’s den

“mother, i may be late in getting home from school this afternoon,” said wallace on monday at noon. “mr. emerson said he was going to take us for a walk after school to-day. he told us to ask if it would be all right. will it, mother?”

“yes, wallace, but try to be home before dark.”

“i’ll tell you all about our trip at supper time,” said wallace. “good-by.”

wallace bounded in just as supper was being put on the table.

“good evening, everybody. oh, it was fine!” he exclaimed. “mr. emerson took us for a long walk in the park—to a part i have never seen before.”

“that was splendid,” said his mother.

“now, tell us all about your trip,” said his father, when wallace had partly satisfied his hunger.

wallace began: “we walked until we reached the wild part of the park. soon we came to a steep hill and a great pile of high rocks covered with trees and bushes.

“‘how many of you boys have ever been in a[164] real cave?’ mr. emerson asked. only three of us had, and we were very much excited.

“‘well,’ he said, ‘right above that big granite rock there is a natural cave. it was found only a few days ago. the opening was covered with bushes, so nobody knew it was there. it must have been the den of some wild animal years ago. the opening is so small that only one boy can go in at a time.’

“he divided us into four sections and made me the leader of section one.

“one at a time we climbed up until all five boys of my section were on top of the rock. there was the cave, a dark opening in the rocks about as big around as a barrel. being the leader, i had to go in first.”

“weren’t you scared?” asked ruth.

“well—it was exciting,” admitted her brother. “i got down on my hands and knees and looked in, but could see nothing. then i crawled in. it was as dark as a pocket. i tried to stand up and bumped my head, the ceiling was so low.

“in a minute or two i could see better. the walls of the cave were nothing but rocks. the floor was covered with sand and dry leaves. there was just room enough to turn around in, so i turned around and crawled out.”

[165]

“well, i call that pretty brave, wallace, to go in first,” his mother said.

“there wasn’t anything to be afraid of, mother,” said wallace. after a moment he continued, “well, after the boys in my group had all been in, we climbed down, and the other sections went up and did the same thing. every boy went in, although some of the little fellows looked pretty white when they came out. then we sat on the rocks, and mr. emerson talked about the homes of wild animals and the early savages.

“‘what animal do you suppose lived in this cave?’ mr. emerson asked us. some guessed wolves and some, bears. we finally decided to name it the wolf’s den.

v. the cave dwellers

“mr. emerson said that wild animals live in just the same way to-day as they always did. they live in caves and holes in the ground or in hollow trees, where they can hide and keep warm.

“one boy spoke up, ‘how about dogs, mr. emerson?’

“‘well,’ mr. emerson said, ‘dogs are tame animals now, although they used to be wild. but[166] even the dog’s house is a wooden cave which his master builds for him.’

“he told us that a long time ago people lived in caves which they dug in the earth like animals. they were cave dwellers or cave men. the reason we have better homes now is that we have greater minds than animals and have learned to use our hands and brains to build houses.

“he said that the cave men must have thought it wonderful when they found they could make stone hatchets sharp enough to cut down small trees. with them they learned to make huts out of wood, which were larger and more comfortable than caves and just as safe from storms.

“as time went on, men paid more attention to building. they learned to make houses of stone and clay and brick. they kept on studying and improving until they were able to build great cities such as we have to-day.”

“listen!” exclaimed ruth, clapping her hands as wallace finished his story. “wouldn’t wallace make a good teacher! that sounded exactly like the way mr. emerson talks.”

“nothing like so interesting, though,” said wallace. “he promised to show us his new house when it is finished.”

“wouldn’t i like to go with you!” said ruth.

[167]

questions

are there any houses being built near you?

have you ever watched the carpenter at work?

tell about some of his tools.

in the early days in this country men had to build their own houses. were these log cabins as comfortable and well built as our houses are to-day?

how is it that the carpenter can do so much better work than you could?

where does the carpenter get his lumber?

have you ever visited a sawmill?

wouldn’t you like to ask at the library for some books that tell about cave men and cliff dwellers? about lumbering?