“The day’s come!” exclaimed Dotty; “we’re really here! Oh, Doll, can you believe it?”
“No, I simpully can’t! It’s too good to be true! Now, shall we light a fire, or fix things up first?”
“How far have you progressed?” asked a voice at the door, and Mr. Rose came in, smiling. “Want any help? I’ve half an hour to spare. Can I start a fire for you?”
“Oh, do, Dad! And show us just how, and then we can do it ourselves after this.”
“Pooh,” said Dolly, “I know how to make a fire,—I learned long ago. But it would be better to have Mr. Rose make the first one, and see if the chimney draws all right.”
Dolly looked up the flue with the air of a connoisseur on fireplaces, and Mr. Rose laughed good naturedly at her.
“The secret of a successful fire is plenty of paper and kindling-wood,” he said, as he twisted newspapers into hard rolls. Then he added light sticks and finally good-sized logs, and declared the fire was laid.
“Now the lighting of this, your first hearth fire, should be a ceremony,” he said.
“There, Dotty, I told you we ought to have a ceremony! Which of us will light it?”
“Both together, of course. Give us each a match, Dad.”