“And Octavia’s brother Jack. Yes. Those kids would find woodchucks if there were any in the county. M-m-m! did you ever eat woodchuck, Tavia?”
“Sure I did. But I never expect to enjoy a woodchuck bake again. I’m grown up now,” called Tavia, from her position in the lead with Bob Niles.
“If the kids really have found the holes—and Mr. Woodchuck is home,” said Abe, “we might have a picnic, even if it is cold weather—say day after to-morrow.”
“Nice weather for a picnic,” laughed Dorothy. “See! there’s still some snow in the fence corners.”
“And the groundhogs will be as poor as Job’s turkey,” said Tavia, who understood about such things better, even, than a boy.
“Hurrah! there’s the mill,” shouted Nat.
The whine of the saw as it cut through a log floated down to them through the aisles of the wood. They hurried to reach their destination.
The saw was flying and the few men about the mill were working speedily. Mr. Polk himself, whom they knew by sight, was dragging a huge log out of the water by the aid of a chain and a small engine. But nowhere in sight was “that redhead.”
“Hello, Abe Perriton!” shouted the master of the mill. “Your father going to send that gang? Or are you huskies—and the little ladies—goin’ to roll logs for me?”
“I guess father will send along men. But we’ll roll that one for you, Mr. Polk,” laughed Abe, as the huge log came up the runway to the mill.