if it were
another sort of apple.

The hearth was swept, and the rosy Baldwins put down to roast. A shovel
was heated, and the chestnuts danced merrily upon it, while the corn
popped wildly in its wire prison. Dan cracked his best walnuts, and
every one chattered and laughed, while the rain beat on the window-pane
and the wind howled round the house.

"Why is Billy like this nut?" asked Emil, who was frequently inspired
with bad conundrums.

"Because he is cracked," answered Ned.

"That's not fair; you mustn't make fun of Billy, because he can't hit
back again. It's mean," cried Dan, smashing a nut wrathfully.

"To what family of insects does Blake belong?" asked peacemaker Franz,
seeing that Emil looked ashamed and Dan lowering.

"Gnats," answered Jack.

"Why is Daisy like a bee?" cried Nat, who had been wrapt in thought for
several minutes.

"Because she is queen of the hive," said Dan.

"No."

"Because she is sweet."

"Bees are not sweet."

"Give it up."

"Because she makes sweet things, is always busy, and likes flowers,"
said Nat, piling up his boyish compliments till Daisy blushed like a
rosy clover.

"Why is Nan like a hornet?" demanded Tommy, glowering at her, and
adding, without giving any one time to answer, "Because she isn't sweet,
makes a great buzzing about nothing, and stings like fury."

"Tommy's mad, and I'm glad," cried Ned, as Nan tossed her head and
answered quickly,

"What thing in the china-closet is Tom like?"

"A pepper pot," answered Ned, giving Nan a nut meat with a tantalizing
laugh that made Tommy feel as if he would like to bounce up like a hot
chestnut and hit somebody.

Seeing that ill-humor was getting the better of the small supply of wit
in the company, Franz cast himself into the breach again.

"Let's make a law that the first person who comes into the room shall
tell us a story. No matter who it is, he must do it, and it will be fun
to see who comes first."

The others agreed, and did not have to wait long, for a heavy step soon
came clumping through the hall, and Silas appeared, bearing an armful
of wood. He was greeted by a general shout, and stood staring about him
with a bewildered grin on his big red face, till Franz explained the
joke.

"Sho! I can't tell a story," he said, putting down his load and
preparing to leave the room. But the boys fell upon him, forced him into
a seat, and held him there, laughing, and clamoring for their story,
till the