n tomahawk, with a bright keen edge and
long red handle. It would have done all your hearts good to have seen
how he skipped and danced around the room, and flourished his hatchet
high over his head; how he went showing it to every one about the
house, white and black; praising good old Santa Claus to the very
skies, and never once feeling the want of his breeches. But, between
you and me, I am rather inclined to suspect, that, if we had any means
of arriving at the facts of the case, it would be found that Santa
Claus had no more concern in this matter than your Uncle Juvinell
himself. To my mind, there is more reason in the supposition, that his
father, seeing the jolly old saint pass by at a late hour of the night
in an empty sleigh, and that the children were not likely to have
their stockings filled for that once, got up early in the morning, and
put the hatchet in there himself, rather than that his little son
should be disappointed.
Be this as it may, it was all the same to George; and he was as happy
as happy could be. At the breakfast-table, he could hardly eat his
bread and milk for looking at his shining axe, which he had laid
beside him on the table; and, before it was fairly broad daylight, he
was out at the wood-yard, ankle-deep in snow, cutting and chopping
away at the hard-seasoned beech and maple logs, as if it lay with him,
for that day at least, to keep the whole family, white and black, from
freezing. By and by, however, he found this more work than play, and
began to cast his earnest young eyes about him for something green and
soft whereon to try the edge and temper of his hatchet. Presently, as
ill-luck would have it, a fine young English cherry-tree, just over
the fence hard by, caught his attention, which, without further ado,
he fell to hacking might and main; and the way he made the little
chips fly was a thing surprising to see.
Next morning, his father, passing by that way, saw the mischief that
had been done, and was sorely displeased: for he had planted and
reared this selfsame tree with the tenderest care; and, of all the
trees in his orchard, there was not one other he prized so highly.
Being quite sure that it was the work of some of the black children,
he went straightway down to the negro quarter, bent on finding out,
and bringing the unlucky culprit to a severe account.
"Dick," said he to the first one he met, "did you cut that
cherry-tree?"
"No, mauster; don't know nothin'
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