"Haven't you ever heard of it's raining cats and dogs?" Ebenezer said. "Well, to-day it rained cats."
IV
THE WOODPILE
Farmer Green always had a woodpile in the back yard. Sometimes it was big. Sometimes it was little. Sometimes it was mostly made up of four-foot logs. Sometimes the logs were all split and sawed, ready to burn.
When Farmer Green and the hired man had nothing more pressing to do they set to work on the woodpile. It was surprising how fast the big sticks grew into firewood under their axes and saws.
One day they started sawing and splitting when Johnnie Green and old dog Spot were roaming through the woods. And when Johnnie and Spot came back home, just in time for dinner, they found a great heap of firewood lying on the ground where there had been nothing but dirt when they started for the woods some hours before.
Old dog Spot ran straight to the woodpile and began sniffing and scratching and whining.
If Johnnie Green hadn't been hungry he would have paid more heed to Spot's behavior. But the men had already gone into the house. And Johnnie hurried after them, leaving Spot to nose about the woodpile as he pleased.
"Humph!" Spot growled. "Seems to me Johnnie Green might stay here a while and help me. I've been chasing woodchucks and squirrels for him all the morning. And I showed him a few birds, too."
Spot never once left the woodpile while Johnnie was eating his dinner. When Johnnie and his father and the hired man came out of the house later old Spot began to yelp. He made frantic efforts to burrow down beneath the pile of firewood, stopping now and then to run up to his young master and bark.