"They take an awful lot of wood; and wood is getting
scarce in these parts."
"I should say so! Why don't you farmers get together, appoint a
committee to cut down every tree remaining, then make it a State-
prison offence ever to set out another? Why, father, you cut
nearly all the trees from your lot a few years ago and sold the
wood. Now that the trees are growing again, you are talking of
clearing up the land for pasture. Just think of the comfort we
could get out of that wood-lot! What crop would pay better? All
the upholsterers in the world cannot furnish a room as an open
hardwood fire does; and all the produce of the farm could not buy
anything else half so nice."
"Say, mother," said her father, after a moment, "I guess I'll get
down that old Franklin from the garret to-morrow and see if it
can't furnish this room."
The next morning he called rather testily to the hired man, who
was starting up the lane with an axe, "Hiram, I've got other work
for you. Don't cut a stick in that wood-lot unless I tell you."
The evening of the 9th of April was cool but clear, and the farmer
said, genially, "Well, Sue, prospects good for fine weather on
your birthday.
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