224 THE JONATHAN PAPERS 



But I was not to be enticed into an empty 

 discussion of terms. &quot;Well, then, say frowsy. 

 Call it a frowsy fire. You know what frowsy 

 means, I suppose. Of course, though, I don t 

 mean to criticize, only you asked me.&quot; And I 

 added, with perhaps unnecessary blandness, 

 &quot;I m warm enough.&quot; 



Jonathan smoked a few moments more, 

 possibly by way of establishing his independ 

 ence, then slowly rose, remarking, &quot;Oh, 

 vr^ll, if you want a stylish fire &quot; 



&quot;I did n t say stylish, I said style &quot; 



But he was gone. He must have journeyed 

 out to the woodshed, however, there was a 

 moon, for he returned bearing a huge 

 backlog. He had been magnanimous, indeed, 

 for it was the sort that above all others delights 

 my heart a forked apple log with a big 

 hollow heart. In a moment, I was on my 

 knees clearing a place for it, and he swung it 

 into position on the bed of embers, tucked in 

 some white birch in front, and soon the flames 

 were licking about the flaking gray apple bark 

 and shooting up through the hollow fork in a 

 fashion to charm the most fastidious. 



People whose open fires are machine-fed 



