d round that forenoon, it occurred to Addison to hire a
horse-power and circular saw that was owned by a man named Morefield,
who lived near the wood-sheds of the railway-station, six miles from the
old Squire's. It was a rig used for sawing wood for the locomotives.

Hurrying home, we hitched up, drove to the station, and succeeded in
engaging Morefield and his saw, with two spans of heavy horses.

But other cares had now loomed up, not the least among them being the
problem of feeding our hastily collected crew of helpers and their teams
sixteen miles off in the woods. Just across the lake from the lot where
the birch grew there was a lumber-camp where we could set up a stove and
do our cooking; and during the afternoon we packed up supplies of pork,
beans and corned beef, while in the house grandmother and the girls were
baking bread. I had also to go to the mill, to get corn ground for the
teams.

Theodora and Ellen were eager to go and do the cooking at the camp; but
grandmother knew that an older woman of greater experience was needed in
such an emergency, and had that morning sent urgent word to Olive
Witham,--"Aunt Olive," as we called her,--who was always our mainstay in
times of trouble at the old farm.

She was about fifty-five years old, tall, austere, not wholly
attractive, but of upright character and undaunted courage.

By nine that evening everything was ready for a start; and sunrise the
next morning saw us on the way up to the birch lot, Aunt Olive riding in
the "horse-power" on a sled, which bore also a firkin of butter, a
cheese, a four-gallon can of milk, a bag of bread and a large basket of
eggs.

One team did not get off so early, neighbor Sylvester's. He was to start
two hours later and draw up to camp the heaviest part of our supplies,
consisting of half a barrel of pork, two bushels of potatoes, a peck of
dry beans, a hundredweight of corned beef and two gallons of molasses.

Twelve miles of our way that morning was by a trodden winter road, but
the last four miles, after crossing Lurvey's Stream, had to be broken
through three feet of snow in the woods, giving us four hours of
tiresome tramping.

We reached the lot at one o'clock, and during the afternoon set up the
horse-power on the lake shore, at the foot of the slope where the white
birch grew. We also contrived a log slide, or slip, down which the long
birch trunks could be slid to the saw and cut up into four-foot bolts.
For our