arge enough for firewood. It was but a short
distance from the house, and the boys soon reached the spot, and
commenced operations. They were each provided with large jack-knives,
and with these they proceeded to lop off the young and tender ends of
the birches, which trees were quite abundant in that spot; for birches
are very apt to spring up after a pine forest has been cleared away.
Many of the trees were yet so small, that the boys did not have to
climb up to reach the branches.

Though all this was really work, it seemed so much like play to Jerry
and Oscar, that they actually _forgot to be lazy_. The consequence
was, the job was done before they thought of it. Gathering up the
heaps of small twigs scattered around them, they threw them into the
cart, and found they had quite a respectable load; respectable in bulk
at least, though not a very heavy burden for Billy. Taking their seats
upon the top of the mulching, which was almost as soft as a load of
hay, they drove back to the barn, and alighted. Mr. Preston now
appeared, and led the horse into the orchard, where, with the aid of
the boys, he scattered the birch twigs around the young trees, so as to
protect their roots from the fierce heat of the sun. There was not
enough for all the trees, but he told them they need not get any more
at that time.

After dinner, Mr. Preston said he should have to go over to the
Cross-Roads himself, as he wanted to see a man who lived there; but he
told Oscar he might go with him, if he wished. Oscar accepted the
invitation, and they were soon on their way, leaving Jerry not a little
disappointed that he could not go with them. Oscar handed his letter
to the postmaster, who marked it with the stamp of the office, and
deposited it in the mail-bag, Mr. Preston stopped to purchase a few
articles in the shop where the post-office was kept. When he was ready
to start, he inquired:

"Have you mailed your letter, and paid your postage, Oscar?"

"I 've mailed it, but I did n't pay the postage," replied Oscar.

"That was n't right," said his uncle; "when you mail a letter to a
friend, you should always pay the postage. If you pay it now, in
advance, it will be only three cents; but if the postage is not paid
till the letter is delivered, it will be five cents."

"I did n't think of that," said Oscar; "I wonder if it is too late to
pay it now? I 'll go and see."

On making known his request, the postmaster drew forth t