Harry was on his knees in the corner of the fire-place, running bullets, and melting his lead in a wooden ladle. Somebody may wonder how he could melt lead in a wooden ladle. Well, he made the fire inside, with bits of charcoal; and, as the coal was lighter than the lead, when the latter melted, the charcoal and dust floated on top, and could be blown off. The ladle burned up after a while, but not very speedily; and it cost nothing but a little work to make another. All were busily engaged; and there was little to break the quiet of the morning, save the monotonous sound of Mrs. Sumerford's loom, as she sprung the treadles, and beat up the filling with the beam, when a great clamor of voices was heard outside, and a whole flock of children, girls and boys, rushed in at the open door.
The dog began to wag his tail, and rub up against the children for recognition. The bear took his paw from his nose, and gaped, showing his white teeth; but, as the baby did not wake, went to sleep again.
"Well, well, what's in the wind now?" said Mrs. Sumerford.
"Don't you think, Mrs. Sumerford," cried Bobby Holt, "they've given us some of the powder what the Indians that was killed had in their pouches; and we're going to shoot wild pigeons, and go in swimming: we hain't been in swimming this year."
"Us girls," said Maud Stewart, "are going after blueberries on the mountains, while the boys are gunning and swimming."
"I wish I could go," said Sam.
"We'll bring you some pigeons, and you can go with us when you get well," said Archie Crawford.
"I don't know about you children going in the woods. Who told you you might go?" said Mrs. Sumerford.
"Mother said we might go," said Jane Holt.