One day, Mr. Little called their attention to the wood which the carpenters had thrown aside as rubbish, and told them he was going to pick up some of it, and send it home to burn; "and now, boys," said Mr. Little, "if you would like to help your mother, here is a chance to get her some kindling-wood. You may come every day, and get all you can carry home."
They came home delighted with the plan; and the next morning, as soon as breakfast was done, they were ready to begin their work. The two oldest boys took their wheelbarrows, and the youngest one his cart, and off they started. I could see them from my window, working very diligently, and they soon came back, each with a good-sized load.
They knocked at the back-door, and asked me where I would have my wood put. I told them they could put it in the cellar, and opened the outside cellar-door for them. Each one threw out his load, and started for another; and so they kept at work nearly the whole forenoon.
They continued to work in this way for a week, sometimes getting one load a day, and sometimes four or five; and every night, when their papa came home, they invited him down cellar to see how much wood they had.
In a little room back of the parlor, there was an old-fashioned fireplace, in which, when the evenings began to grow cool, papa would build up a nice fire, just after supper. Then he would sit down in the firelight with the boys, and tell them stories till their bed-time, greatly to their delight.
So you see they had a reward for their labor, besides having the satisfaction of knowing that they helped their mother.
H. L.
