etmeat saturnalia for all the 'papooses' in
the camp. They sat about on the snow in various attitudes, consuming
whole handfuls and cakes of the hot sweet stuff, with rather more
gravity, but quite as much relish, as English children would display if
gifted with the run of a comfit establishment.

'Did you ever see anything like their solemnity, the young monkeys!'
said Arthur. 'Certainly the risible faculties were left out in the
composition of the Indian. I wonder whether they know how to laugh if
they tried?'

'Do you know,' said Robert, 'Holt says that Indian mythology has a sort
of Prometheus, one Menabojo, who conferred useful arts upon men; amongst
others, this art of making maple-sugar; also canoe-building, fishing,
and hunting.'

'A valuable and original genius,' rejoined Arthur; 'but I wonder what
everybody could have been doing before his advent, without those sources
of occupation.'

Zack and his team arrived two mornings subsequently.

'Wal, Robert, I hope you've been a clearin' yer sugar-bush, an' choppin'
yer firewood, all ready. Last night was sharp frosty, an' the sun's
glorious bright to-day--the wind west, too. I hain't seen a better day
for a good run o' sap this season. Jump on the sled, Arthur--there's
room by the troughs.'

'No, thank you,' said the young man haughtily, marching on before with
his auger. He detested Zack's familiar manner, and could hardly avoid
resenting it.

'We're worth some punkins this mornin', I guess,' observed Zack,
glancing after him. 'He'll run his auger down instead of up, out
o' pure Britisher pride an' contrariness, if we don't overtake him.'

Arthur was just applying the tool to the first tree, when he heard
Zack's shout.

'The sunny side! Fix yer spile the sunny side, you goney.'

Which term of contempt did not contribute to Arthur's good humour. He
persisted in continuing this bore where he had begun; and one result was
that, at the close of the day, the trough underneath did not contain by
a third as much as those situate on the south side of the trees.

'It ain't no matter o' use to tap maples less than a foot across. They
hain't no sugar in 'em,' said Zack, among his other practical hints.
'The older the tree, the richer the sap. This 'ere sugar bush is as fine
as I'd wish to tap: mostly hard maple, an' the right age. Soft maple
don't make nothing but molasses, hardly--them with whitish skin; so you
are safe to chop 'em down.'

The little hollow