THE COAL TO THE KINDLING WOOD 69 



as I could whittle a good-looking clothespin with 

 my old knife. I think I might as well begin 

 now," said Anne, taking a small but stout jack- 

 knife from her pocket. 



" It would be better to have a clothespin to copy, 

 though. I think I smell cookies too, the crispy, 

 gingery ones." 



In a moment Anne returned with the clothes- 

 pin and nearly a dozen thin, scallopy cookies on a 

 plate, which she set carefully on the floor beside 

 her. Next she selected a bit of wood from the 

 open box, propped herself against it, and began to 

 whittle very slowly and carefully. 



" Cri-cri-crick ! " cried the Cricket under the 

 hearth. 



"Buz-bumbl-buz," answered O-o-chug, the House 

 Fly, beating his head recklessly against the win- 

 dow. 



" Humph ! the Voiceless Brotherhood is waking 

 up," said the near andiron, as a tiny gray Moth, 

 with silver-powdered wings, crept out from the 

 edge of the hearth rug and fluttered to Anne's 

 skirt. 



" What is the Voiceless Brotherhood ? " asked 

 Anne. "I never heard of that before." 



"All the insects and animals that have no 

 voices in their throats, but speak with some other 



