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The Doers Part 16

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And his cat met him, and then his mother met him.

"Where were you, dear?" his mother asked.

"I was helping the tree-men paint egg-spots. How big are moth-eggs, mother?"

But his mother didn't know.

And that's all.



X

THE CLEARING-UP STORY

Once upon a time there was a little boy, and he was almost five years old, and his name was David. And there weren't any other children near for him to play with, so he used to play happily all by himself.

He had his cat and his cart and his shovel and his hoe, and he always wore his overalls when he was playing.

They had been building a new house in the field next to David's house, and it was all done. Even the last coat of paint was dry.

David knew, because he had tried it with his finger to see. He had tried it three times, and the first two times it wasn't dry, but the last time it was.

And the carpenters had gone, and the painters had gone, but they had left great messes and piles of stuff that had been swept out of the house, and heaps of the sawed-off ends of boards, and some good boards, and piles of broken laths and plaster and the little pieces that they had sawed off the laths, and some broken saw-horses, and a lot of other rubbish.

One morning David heard the rattle of a wagon; and he looked and saw a wagon stop at the new house, and he saw the nice foreman that he knew, and there were two other men.

And the men jumped out, and the foreman jumped out, and David hurried to go over there. He hurried so fast that he forgot to take his cart, and he forgot to call his cat, but his cat came just the same, and she ran on ahead, with her bushy tail sticking straight up in the air.

And when the foreman saw the cat, he knew that David couldn't be far off, and he looked up and he saw him.

"h.e.l.lo, Davie," he said. "I'm glad to see you."

"h.e.l.lo," David said. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to sort of clear up the place, Davie. Don't you think it needs it? And I'm going to have all this rubbish carried off or burned up."

David nodded, but he didn't say anything; and he reached up, and he put his little hand into the foreman's big one.

Then the two men who had come with the foreman began to pick out the boards that were good.

There were some great heavy planks which were covered with plaster and spattered with paint, but they were good planks and could be used again.

The men took these planks, one man at each end, and they brought them to the wagon and they put them in.

When they had brought all the planks, they separated the long boards from the little short ends of boards, and they brought the long boards to the wagon and they put them on top of the planks.

Then they piled the little short ends of boards near the cellar door.

It was a great pile of wood that the people who moved into the house could have to burn.

Then they found a couple of saw-horses that were pretty good, and they put them on top of the boards in the wagon, and the wagon was loaded with as much as one horse ought to pull.

So the foreman told one of them to go along with that load, and to hurry back, and he would stay there and help the other man do a little clearing up.

And the man climbed into the seat, and drove off.

"Now, Davie," the foreman said, "I've got to help my man, and I can't stay here with you and do nothing, although I should like to."

"What are you going to do?" David asked.

"Oh, we're going to put all the rubbish that will burn over there on the bare spot, where it can't set anything afire. All the stuff that we can't burn we'll rake up into piles, and when the wagon comes back, we'll take it away. And there's a little gravel over there that is hardly worth taking, and we'll leave it for the graders to use."

"What are the graders?" asked David. "What do they do?"

"Oh, the graders are sort of rough gardeners. They spread the dirt around where it is wanted, and they make it the right height all along the foundation, and smooth it off, and they make the walks up to the front door and the back door, and they spread gravel on the walks.

Sometimes they make terraces or banks, but they won't do that here. It will be a nice slope from the house down to the field, all around."

David looked at the house, which stood high on its foundation, and he saw that there was a great hole between the ground and the front steps. He supposed that the graders would fill up that hole.

He nodded.

"I'll get my cart," he said, "and then I'll help you."

So he ran all the way home, and his cat saw him running and she ran too, faster than David ran, and she ran right up on to the piazza.

But David didn't go there. He took up the handle of his cart, and he ran back again.

And his cat saw that she had made a mistake, and she ran faster than ever; and she pa.s.sed David, and she was running so fast that her bushy tail didn't stick up in the air at all, but straight out behind.

And David came where the foreman was standing, waiting for him, and the foreman showed him where he wanted the rubbish piled to be burned, far from the house.

And the foreman and David worked together, and they piled the rubbish into the cart; and when it was full, they dragged the cart over to the place, and they emptied the rubbish out of it.

Then the foreman took a match out of his pocket, and he scratched the match on his trousers-leg, and he lighted the pile of rubbish.

And a little thin column of smoke went up, and then it blazed, and then it crackled, and the foreman and David went back for another load.

The foreman and David worked for a long time, getting loads of rubbish, and dragging them over to the fire.

[Ill.u.s.tration: BURNING RUBBISH]

Then the foreman would take up the cart, all filled with little odds and ends of sticks and with shavings and with twigs and the ends of laths, and he would turn the cart upside down over the fire, and empty all that stuff out.

Then David would drag the cart back.

The other man was working with a rake all this long time, raking over the places where the foreman and David had been, and he raked the pieces of plaster and the other stuff that wouldn't burn into little heaps.

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About The Doers Part 16 novel

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