“I have often thought of it; but it takes a good deal to winter ducks, and we have to buy all our corn, both for ourselves and the hens. But we are going to plant a piece of corn in the spring, and then, perhaps, father will let me keep them.”
“I’ll give you a duck in the spring that wants to set, and eggs to put under her.”
“Thank you, Fred.”
“I think it’s real nice to see them play in the water; and, when one gets a bug, the others swim after, and try to get it away from him, and all going one right after the other to the pond in the morning.”
Although Fred had grown up in a new country, he yet gazed with wonder upon the great maple. It was indeed a kingly tree, thirteen feet and a half in circumference at the roots, bearing its enormous coronal of leaves in that symmetry of proportions which this tree (seen nowhere in its perfection but in the North American forests) sometimes exhibits.
“What is that, Charlie, on that lower limb?” asked John.
“That’s the baby-house.”
In the spring, at the time boys make whistles, Charlie had peeled the bark from some willow rods (which he called whitening the sallies), and made a long, narrow basket. He then worked an ornamental rim round it, and put strong handles in each end, and hung it to one of the lower limbs of the great tree. Sally made a little bed-tick and pillow, which Charlie stuffed with the down of the cat-tail (cooper’s) flag. Here the baby would sit and swing, and play with things that Charlie gave him, while he sat beneath and made whistles, or played with Rover; or if he wanted the little one to go to sleep, would pull a string that was fastened to the branch, and rock him to rest. In the absence of companions of his own age, the tree was like a brother to Charlie; and sometimes, as he sat listening to the wind among the leaves, he almost fancied it could talk. Here was his workshop, where he made everything that could be made with a knife or hatchet, and at every leisure moment he slipped off and ran to the tree.
Going round to the north-west side of it, they found a building about seven feet high, and shingled on the roof and walls, with a tight-fitting door, having a wooden latch and hinges. Opening the door, they saw that it had a regular frame, and was ceiled up with planed boards. There were two drawers in it, and above them were shelves. The drawers not being as deep as the closet, left a space of six inches in front. On one side was Charlie’s gun, and on the other his powder-horn and shot-pouch. On the edge of the top shelf was a squirrel stuffed, sitting up with his tail over his back, just as natural as life.
“How did you make that look so natural? and how did you fix the tail so?” asked Fred.