"My wife made it," said the foreman. "I think she's a very fine cook."
The little boy put his mouthful of bread in his cheek so that he could speak.
"Yes," he said, "I think so too."
The foreman laughed again, and then the men began to come back.
They all wanted to give the little boy something; and some of them gave him other little pieces of white bread, and some of them gave him little corners of their sandwiches, and some gave him little pieces of dark-colored bread.
And he ate his pieces of bread and drank his milk, and the foreman gave him two of some little thin molasses cookies that were all crackly and crumbly; for little crackly cookies like those aren't much like cake.
When all the men had finished their dinner and had drunk their tea and their coffee, they went and put their pails and their baskets away and then came back and sat down again, and some of them got out their pipes and filled them.
The little boy was very happy, and he sat on the board with his hands in his lap, and he smiled.
"Now," said the foreman, "there's time for a story before you go to work again. Do any of you know a story?"
He looked all about and, last of all, he looked at the little boy. "Do you know any story?"