"When do you want your fire made?" said he.
"Somebody else is hungry, I am afraid," said Flora.
"I cannot deny it. But I can wait as long as you can!"
"I am very hungry," said Flora.
"I believe I shall be," said Mr. Murray, "by the time our luncheon can be ready. Here's for a fire!"
They all went about it. To find a place and to arrange stones for the kettle, and to collect fuel, and to build and kindle the fire. Stones for the chimney-place were not at hand in manageable size; so Mr. Murray planted three strong sticks on the ground with their bases a couple of feet or so apart and their heads tied together; and slung the kettle to them, over the fire. This was very pretty, and drew forth great expressions of admiration. Then while waiting for the kettle to boil, they all threw themselves on their pine branches again and called for a story; only Fenton sat by the fire to keep it up. Meredith took his book from his pocket and laid it on the pine branches, open before him.
"You could not attend to anything very deep till you have had something to eat," he said. "I will give you something easy."
"Most of your stories are so profound," added Flora.
"Never mind; listen."