Father Thrift bored holes in the tree trunks. Then he pounded a little spout into each hole for the sap to run through.
As they had no handles on their pails and crocks, they could not hang them on the spouts. Instead they set them down in the snow under the spouts.
The sun was getting warm, and was drawing up the sap from the roots of the tree into its branches. Soon you could hear it drip, drip, dripping into the pails and the crocks.
Shaggy Bear was too astonished to talk. He put out his paw, and a great drop of shining yellow maple sap fell on it. Then he licked his paw. Then he grunted, a funny bear grunt of surprise and pleasure.
Mmmmmm! It was good! It was sweet, truly. And what a delicious flavor it had!
The bear put out his paw again and again. And how he did lick the sap off it! My, oh, my! it was sweet! Not even the honey of the bee tasted so good. It was like nothing else in the whole forest.
Meanwhile Father Thrift was arranging his kettle and pans and building a fire.
“Now let us pour all the sap into one pail,” he said, “and perhaps we shall have enough to start boiling.”