“Well,” said Raymond, “I will make you one.”
So Raymond took out his knife and cut off a piece from a dry pine branch, which lay near him. He split this so as to get a flat piece out of it, which he fashioned into a rude sort of spoon, that answered Caleb's purpose very well. But before Caleb had much more than begun his dinner, Raymond had finished his, and, rising, said that he must go back to his work.
“But, first, I will set your chimney a-fire,” said he.
“No,” said Caleb, “I want you to let me kindle it.”
“You can't.”
“Yes, I can,” said Caleb; “I can get some birch bark.”
“Very well; only if I go away to my work now, you must not come and trouble me to come back again, because you can't get the fire a-going.”
“No,” said Caleb, “I won't.”
So Raymond went back to his work, and Caleb finished his dinner.
At length, however, his potatoes and bread and butter were all gone, and his apple cores he had pretty thoroughly scraped with his wooden spoon, and thrown into the fire. So he got up from his seat, and prepared to light his chimney. He took his plate for a slow match. It was pretty large and stiff, and he thought it would burn long enough for him to carry it from the fire to his chimney. He accordingly took hold of it by one corner, and held the other corner into the flame, which was curling up from a brand by the side of his fire.