have in any house," said Norton. "I
believe I'll have 'em all through my house."

"Your house?"

"Yes. I shall have a house some day; and then you and mamma will live
with me."

Matilda could not see the reason for this inversion of arrangements,
and she was silent a little while; studying it, without success.

"But what _are_ you cutting these little pieces off for, Norton?"

"Why, they'd fly if I didn't."

"What would fly?"

"Why the chestnuts, Pink! They would fly all over."

"Out of the fire?"

"Yes. Certainly."

"What would make them fly? and how will that hinder it?"

Norton sat back on the rug--he had been bending over to screen his face
from the heat of the blaze--and looked at Matilda with very benevolent,
laughing eyes.

"Pink, the chestnuts are green."

"Aren't they ripe?" said Matilda. "They look so."

"Yes, yes, they are ripe; but what I mean is, that they are fresh; they
are not dry. There is a great deal of water in them."

"Water?" said Matilda.

"Not standing in a pool, you know; but in the juice, or sap, or
whatever you call it. Well, you know that fire makes water boil?"

"Yes."

"And when water turns into steam, you know it takes room?"

"Yes, I know," said Matilda.

"Well, that's it. When steam begins to make in the chestnut, the skin
won't hold it; and unless I cut a place for it to get out, it will
burst the chestnut. And when it bursts, the chestnuts will generally
jump."

"Yes, I understand," said Matilda.

"And wherever it jumps to, it will be apt to make a hole in the carpet."

"But, Norton! I should think if the steam made very fast, in a hot
place, you know, it might burst the chestnut in spite of the hole you
have cut."

"Ay," said Norton. "That does happen occasionally. We'll be on the
look-out."

Then he prepared a nice bed of ashes, laid the chestnuts in carefully,
and covered them up artistically, first with ashes and then with coals.
Matilda watched the process with great interest, and a little wonder
what Mr. Richmond would think of it. However, he had said that he was
likely to be out for some time, and it was now only half past seven
o'clock. The fire burned gently, and the ash-bed of chestnuts looked
very promising.

"What was it you said was jolly, when you came and sat down on the rug
here, Norton?"

"I don't know."

"You said, 'Pink, it is very jolly!'"

"The fire, I guess. O, I know!" said Norton. "I meant _this_, Pink;
that it is very