pretty sure
to announce the discovery as he comes running into the house in a great
state of excitement--as if he had heard a hen cackle in the barn--with
"Sap's runnin'!"

And then, indeed, the stir and excitement begin. The sap-buckets, which
have been stored in the garret over the wood-house, and which the boy
has occasionally climbed up to look at with another boy, for they are
full of sweet suggestions of the annual spring frolic,--the sap-buckets
are brought down and set out on the south side of the house and scalded.
The snow is still a foot or two deep in the woods, and the ox-sled is
got out to make a road to the sugar camp, and the campaign begins. The
boy is everywhere present, superintending everything, asking questions,
and filled with a desire to help the excitement.

It is a great day when the cart is loaded with the buckets and the
procession starts into the woods. The sun shines almost unobstructedly
into the forest, for there are only naked branches to bar it; the snow
is soft and beginning to sink down, leaving the young bushes spindling
up everywhere; the snowbirds are twittering about, and the noise of
shouting and of the blows of the axe echoes far and wide. This is
spring, and the boy can scarcely contain his delight that his out-door
life is about to begin again.

In the first place, the men go about and tap the trees, drive in the
spouts, and hang the buckets under. The boy watches all these operations
with the greatest interest. He wishes that sometime, when a hole is
bored in a tree, the sap would spout out in a stream as it does when
a cider-barrel is tapped; but it never does, it only drops, sometimes
almost in a stream, but on the whole slowly, and the boy learns that the
sweet things of the world have to be patiently waited for, and do not
usually come otherwise than drop by drop.

Then the camp is to be cleared of snow. The shanty is re-covered with
boughs. In front of it two enormous logs are rolled nearly together, and
a fire is built between them. Forked sticks are set at each end, and
a long pole is laid on them, and on this are hung the great caldron
kettles. The huge hogsheads are turned right side up, and cleaned out to
receive the sap that is gathered. And now, if there is a good "sap run,"
the establishment is under full headway.

The great fire that is kindled up is never let out, night or day, as
long as the season lasts. Somebody is always cutting wood to feed it;
someb