In a short time Joe sung out that the floor beams were all laid, cross sleepers in, and they wanted something to do to keep them from freezing.
“Well, lay the rough floor, and be quick about it; the boards are all jointed, and we shall be at your heels with the upper one.”
By the time Joe and his crew had laid half of the loose floor, the ship carpenters began to lay the other one over it, and they finished nearly at the same time.
There were two courses of logs above the floor beams, so that the house was a story and a half in height. The logs being hewn on two sides, then smoothed with an adze, the window frames fitted close, the walls two feet or more in thickness, and very few windows, the house was almost as tight as though it grew there.
“Hand that timber right up here,” shouted Uncle Isaac, from the chamber floor, “and clap the roof on. That’ll be enough for one day; there’s reason in all things.”
As there were half a dozen men to a rafter, the timber went up in a few moments.
CHAPTER XI.
THE CHRISTENING.
“Halloa, Uncle Isaac!” shouted Joe from the house-top, “this ridge-pole won’t fit; you didn’t make it right.”
“Yes, I did. I never made a bad joint in my life.”