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at their work ah, so cheerly! How the 

 bright steel eats through the logs ! Decem- 

 ber though it be, each dark face is beaded 

 thick with sweat, albeit they stand in shirt- 

 sleeves tossing the fire-sticks hither and yon. 



Choose now a Yule-log, remembering the 

 while that the soul, the spirit, of Christmas 

 abides but through its burning. Not this 

 sightly hickory. Big and solid as it lies 

 fire will go through it in a single night, 

 leaving never a brand to lay away for next 

 year's kindling. This round, dense post- 

 oak were longer-flamed, yet still too brief. 

 Green poplar on the dogs is a snare, a de- 

 lusion ; dry, fire burns it likq windy stubble. 

 Ash, elm, white -oak? All good, but not 

 best. Ah ! here is the wood of endurance 

 this gnarled, rough, knotted black-jack 

 two feet through at butt, so dense, so close, 

 as almost to turn the axe's edge. 



Cut your log thence, and bear it straight 

 to its appointed place. How black the 

 wide - throated chimney yawns. It is five 

 feet betwixt jambs, with a wide, generous 

 hearth. Lay your log flat upon it, close 

 against the chimney back. Set in front of 

 it the tall, heavy, wrought -iron dogs; pile 

 them high with round sticks, small hickory 

 logs, and chips, and bark. Fill all the space 

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