CHAPTER XIX 



WOOD FIRES 



WHEN the Doctor went away, I felt like the 

 prisoner who hears the departing foot 

 steps of his friends and the shooting of 

 the bolts. Now at last I was in for it, and no 

 mistake. But there were some compensations and 

 mitigations, and some quiet triumphs flowers, 

 you will say, in the condemned cell. I was to 

 have access to the world by mail. The Doctor 

 thought I had earned that by not writing a letter 

 for four months. He promised to send me up a 

 box of books from his own library, and I gave 

 him an order for an ample stock of canned goods. 

 When they came, I got Gabe to put up some 

 pine shelves in the cabin in the woods ; and we 

 spent one whole day arranging the place for the 

 winter, tightening the sash, putting in a few shin 

 gles on the kitchen, fixing up a kennel for the yel 

 low dog, and cleaning the chimney, a task which 

 Gabe accomplished most successfully by dragging 



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