"It will just about reach the parlor ceiling," he declared, and the boys guessed so, too.
Then he took the axe from his shoulder.
"Stand back, fellows," he shouted, "and watch the chips fly!"
Crack! went the sharp axe blade. A little cut appeared in the tree, about fifteen inches above the ground. Crack! again, and a little cut appeared in the trunk, about four inches under the other mark. Crack! again, and a piece of wood flew out of the spruce.
"A little farther back, youngsters!" called the Toyman, and the children sought the shelter of the big oak nearby.
Fast flew the axe, still faster the white chips. My! how strong the Toyman was! Now a big hole yawned in the trunk of the spruce, like the jaws of the alligator when he basks in the sun. It grew wider and wider. The Toyman looked around to make sure that the children were well out of harm's way, then he swung once more, one great hefty stroke, and with a great crash the spruce fell and measured its length in the snow. And the Toyman put the axe and the tree too, over his shoulder--he certainly was strong, that Toyman--and through the woods they tramped back again, and loaded the tree on the sleigh.
Then he paused for a moment.
"Think a little jag of green would go nice on the windows," he remarked, "and a touch of red to brighten things up a bit."
So they looked and found plenty of green for wreaths, and some bayberries like coral, and some holly, besides, by the ruins of the deserted house that had burned down years before they were born.
It had been a long hunt and, though the sky had cleared, it was growing pretty dark when they climbed in the sleigh. As the Toyman clambered upon the seat and took the reins, he turned around and looked up the hill.