reached the camp just as her father struck his ax deep into the log
where he meant to leave it for an hour, and Jake, her handsome elder
brother, took off his cap, pushed the curls back from his heated brow,
and shook out the hay and grain before old Rob, whose whinny had
already proclaimed dinner-time.

"Why, if here isn't sis with a tin kettle, and I'll be bound some of
ma'am's nut-cakes in it!" exclaimed Jake, who had rather mourned at the
said cakes not being ready before he left home, and then he caught the
little girl up in his arms, kissed her heartily, and put her on Rob's
back, whence she slid down, saying gravely:

"Jake, Ma says I'm getting too old for rough play. I'll be twelve years
old next June."

"All right, old lady; I'll get you a pair of specs and a new cap or two
for a birthday present," laughed Jake, uncovering the tin kettle, while
his father said:

"We wont have you an old woman before you're a young one, will we, Tib?
Come, sit down by me and have some dinner. You're good to bring us the
nut-cakes and get here in such good season."

The three were very happy and merry over their dinner, although Roxie
declined to eat anything except out of her own pocket, and the time
passed swiftly until Mr. Beamish glanced up at the sun, rose, took his
ax out of the cleft in the log, and, swinging it over his head, said:

"Come, Jake, nooning is over. Get to work."