ylor rolled down a barrel of ice
into his cellar this morning?"

"Yes, sir. I didn't know there was any door there. Winnie and I used to
sit on those boards and eat our lunch."

"Well, that is called a bulkhead. I don't know why that name should be
used, for the real meaning of the word is a partition in a ship which
makes separate apartments. Perhaps it is so called, because articles of
considerable bulk are put down through it, and stored in the cellar.
When the stonelayer comes to that part of the cellar, you will see how
he builds up a place each side of that road; and then the carpenter will
make doors to fit down upon it. When we want to put coal or wood, or
anything heavy into the house, instead of carrying them through the
carpeted halls and down the nice stairs, we only have to open the
trap-doors and carry them down the steps, or put on a plank board and
roll them down, as farmer Taylor does."

Bertie now was standing near the stone-masons and watched closely every
movement. One man was preparing a place for a large stone, while the
other was chipping off the front edge with a sharp instrument called a
cold chisel.

When he thought it smooth enough they took hold together and tipped it
over and over; sometimes using their hands, or iron bars, and sometimes
pieces of strong wood to put it into place, until at last they had it
fitted into the wall.

Bertie noticed that they chinked or filled in all the little holes with
the small stones so as to make the wall as compact as possible. His
father told him that after the whole was done, they would fill every
hole with cement, which, after a few days, would become so very hard
that not even the tiniest mouse could creep in. This, the mason informed
him, was called "pointing the cellar wall."

While Bertie stood down in the cellar talking with his father and the
men, he happened to remember his promise to mamma, to bring Winnie home
in time for her morning nap.

"O, papa!" he exclaimed. "Will you please look at your watch, and tell
me what time it is? I'm afraid it's too late for me to go home."

"It's a quarter past ten," answered papa.

"I'll go then, as quick as I can, and come back this afternoon; mamma
is going to read me a story when Winnie is asleep."

Papa carried the little girl and put her in the carriage. Bertie took up
the reins and drove off with a good-by bow, which the gentleman returned
with a loving smile.

Just as he reached the gate he