“Yes, I have,” said Dorothy.
“What?” asked Rollo.
“A fire in the woods,” replied Dorothy.
“O Dorothy!” said Rollo; “a fire in the woods is nothing at all, compared to a fire in a city. I know, because Jonas and I have built fires in the woods a hundred times.”
“O, I don’t mean your little bonfires,” replied Dorothy. “I mean great fires, when the woods are burning themselves, for miles and miles all around.”
“Do the woods get on fire like that?” asked Rollo.
“Yes,” replied Dorothy. “I remember one fire, in the woods, when I was a little girl, that came very near burning my father’s house. I was quite a little girl.”
“How old?” asked Rollo.
“About seven years,” said Dorothy. “It was when my father lived in his log-house in the square opening.”
“What do you mean by that?” asked Rollo.