“Oh, don’t bother me with your sums!” cried Will.
For the backwoodsmen brought to Old Uncle, who was a justice of the peace, the black and brown noses of the wolves and bears and cubs which they destroyed; and he gave them a certificate which entitled them to collect the bounty paid by the State for the killing of the creatures. Then he gave to the children the small silver piece each man paid as fee, all sharing the fund together. It would require, indeed, quite an arithmetical process to tell just when Will’s share would amount to enough to buy one of the plantations in the Aroostook.
“I don’t care,” continued Will, “I haven’t the making of a scholar in me!”
“No one has, without work,” said Charlie, going away to learn his own lesson, as he said, in peace.
“But I should be a very good—”
“You just be a very good boy now,” said Janet, in a patronizing way, “and mind Ally for me while I go and get my eggs. I found old Speckle’s nest yesterday.”
Pretty work for a boy who had “the making of a very good logger” in him, who could swing an axe in a circle round his head! He pretended not to see when Ally held out her little hand to him—the well hand—not even when her dear lip began to tremble.
He left the room, and sauntered out into the yard; and meeting Janet, with her apron full of eggs, he said, gruffly: “Your sister’s all alone.”
Then he looked up the axe, and hacked at the chopping-block, feeling much too ill-humored even to make his chopping useful with kindling-sticks.
He chopped till his blood began to circulate, and he was almost in a happy mood when he threw down the axe. He had reached a determination that was highly satisfactory to himself, without a thought of the trouble and anxiety he was going to give everyone in the house.