“So we did. It will do for breakfast.”
The damper was raked out of the ashes, and having been left to itself was found to be well done, but rather burned on one side. When the burnt part had been scraped off, and the ashes blown from it, it tasted very fair, but extremely dry.
“The butter won’t last long,” said Mark presently, as they sat down to breakfast on the ground at their two boards. “We ought to have another shipload.”
“Tables without legs are awkward,” said Bevis, whose face was heated from tending the fire they had lit and boiling the kettle. “The difficulty is, where to put your knees.”
“Or else you must lie down. We could easily make some legs.”
“Drive short stakes into the ground, and put the boards on the top,” said Bevis. “So we will presently. The table ought to be a little one side of the doorway, as we can’t wheel it along out of the way.”
“Big stumps of logs would do for stools,” said Mark. “Saw them off short, and stand them on end.”
“The sun’s very warm,” said Bevis.
The morning sunshine looked down into their courtyard, so that they had not the least shade.
“The awning ought to be put up here over our table.”