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Updated: July 11, 2025
"Da" Corbett, with his "other clothes" on and his glasses far down on his nose, sat in another rocking-chair reading the life of General Booth. Peter Rockett, the chore boy, in a clean pair of overalls, and with hair-oil on his hair, sat on the edge of the wood-box twanging a Jew's-harp, and the tune that he played bore a slight resemblance to "Pull for the Shore."
If you had a calico dress kinder wore off round the bottom you could cut it off and make 'em wear it, men's clothes are so expensive it would be quite a savin'. And you could pass him off for the hired girl if strangers come onexpected, though that is sunthin' I wouldn't approve on, fur from it, a hauty sperit goes before a fall, as I told Josiah once when he got on a new kind of collar that held his head up so high he fell over the wood-box."
Ford washed the dishes, straightened the blankets in the bunk, swept the grimy floor as well as he could with the stub of broom he found, filled the wood-box and then, being face to face with his day and the problem it held, rolled a cigarette, and smoked it in deep meditation. He wanted to get away from town, and poker games, and whisky, and the tumult it brewed.
"Ef thar 's melon an' ginger persarves settin' by yer plate, d'ye ask them two old women, in some kind of genteel s'ciety ructions sort o' a way, ter go outer the room an' git ye somethin', an' soon 's they've gone d'ye jump up an' thring a shawl over that darn' parrot o' theirn 't stands there noticin' 'an' swearin', an' chuck 'em in over behind the wood-box or somewhar's, but don't eat 'em."
"Oh, don't call it a wood-house," said Uncle Charley. "Call it the wood-box, and be done with it," Frank. "I like 'Hall," said Patty. "How is Boxwood Hall?" "Sounds like Locksley Hall," said Marian. "More like Boxley Hall," said Frank. "Boxley Hall!" cried Patty. "That's just the thing! I like that." "Rather a pretentious name to live up to," said Mr. Fairfield. "Never mind," said Patty.
I've licked free, four dozen of 'em, and dey all respect me awful." "I suppose so," rejoined young Leland, with mock seriousness. "Last summer," pursued Zeb, "when you's down de river fishin', dere's thirteen of 'em come up one day to borrer de wood-box. I s'pose dey wanted to keep dar dogs and pappooses in it, and I 'cluded as how dey warn't gwine to get it.
If you fail, school stops. James laughed at the queer condition and readily agreed to it, thinking it a very easy one. "He began school, and for a time got on capitally with the wood-box, for it was autumn, and chips and brushwood were plentiful.
Lewis's worn, fretful face. "Well, now," she said, "if I ain't beat! It's the last thing on earth I ever expected you to do." What spell had come over Tip? Breakfast was a great success. After it was over he found a great many things to do; the rusty old axe was hunted up, and some hard knots made to become very respectable-looking sticks of wood, which he piled in the wood-box.
The next morning the blizzard raged so that he stayed as a matter of course. Peter Howling Dog had not returned, so Warren did the chores and would not let Billy Louise help with anything. He filled the wood-box, piled great chunks of wood by the fireplace, and saw that the water-pails were full to the icy brims.
A new ambition to learn came to him, an ambition to do his share and to understand other people's share. Naturally his mind turned first to accustomed things. "Where's the wood pile?" he asked Mr. Kincaid. "Can't I fill the wood-box?" "It's just behind the house," approved Mr. Kincaid. Bobby turned the wooden "button" that fastened the door from the inside.
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