sticks already chopped."

"Oh, yes, sir, I'd like to," nodded David, hastily but carefully
tucking his violin into its case. A minute later he had attacked the
woodpile with a will; and Simeon Holly, after a sharply watchful
glance, had turned away.

But the woodbox, after all, was not filled. At least, it was not filled
immediately, for at the very beginning of gathering the second armful
of wood, David picked up a stick that had long lain in one position on
the ground, thereby disclosing sundry and diverse crawling things of
many legs, which filled David's soul with delight, and drove away every
thought of the empty woodbox.

It was only a matter of some strength and more patience, and still more
time, to overturn other and bigger sticks, to find other and bigger of
the many-legged, many-jointed creatures. One, indeed, was so very
wonderful that David, with a whoop of glee, summoned Mrs. Holly from
the shed doorway to come and see.

So urgent was his plea that Mrs. Holly came with hurried steps--but she
went away with steps even more hurried; and David, sitting back on his
woodpile seat, was left to wonder why she should scream and shudder and
say "Ugh-h-h!" at such a beautiful, interesting thing as was this
little creature who lived in her woodpile.

Even then David did not think of that empty woodbox waiting behind the
kitchen stove. This time it was a butterfly, a big black butterfly
banded with gold; and it danced and fluttered all through the back yard
and out into the garden, David delightedly following with soft-treading
steps, and movements that would not startle. From the garden to the
orchard, and from the orchard back to the garden danced the
butterfly--and David; and in the garden, near the house, David came
upon Mrs. Holly's pansy-bed. Even the butterfly was forgotten then, for
down in the path by the pansy-bed David dropped to his knees in
veritable worship.

"Why, you're just like little people," he cried softly. "You've got
faces; and some of you are happy, and some of you are sad. And you--you
big spotted yellow one--you're laughing at me. Oh, I'm going to play
you--all of you. You'll make such a pretty song, you're so different
from each other!" And David leaped lightly to his feet and ran around
to the side porch for his violin.

Five minutes later, Simeon Holly, coming into the kitchen, heard the
sound of a violin through the open window. At the same moment his eyes
fell on the woodbox, e