Stuyvesant: A Franconia Story

Phonny next proposed to chase the squirrel round the shop until they caught him. Stuyvesant objected to this too.

“We should frighten him,” said he, “and make him very wild; and besides we might hurt him dreadfully in catching and holding him. Very likely we should pull his tail off.”

After considerable consultation, the boys concluded to let the squirrel remain for a time at liberty in the shop, taking care to keep the door and windows shut. They thought that by this means he would become accustomed to see them working about, and would grow tame; perhaps so tame that by-and-by, Phonny might catch him in his hand.

“And then, besides,” said Phonny, “we can set the trap for him here to-night, when we go away, and perhaps he will go into it, and get caught so before morning.”

“Then we mustn’t feed him any this afternoon,” said Stuyvesant. “He won’t go into the trap to-night, unless he is hungry.”

“Well,” said Phonny, “we won’t feed him. I will leave him to himself, and let him do what he pleases, and I’ll go to work and make my cage.”

Phonny’s plan for his cage was this. Stuyvesant helped him form it. He was to take some wire, a coil of which he found hanging up in the shed, and cut it into lengths suitable for the bars of his cage. Then he was going to bore a row of holes in the top of his box, near the front edge, with a small gimlet. These holes were to be about half an inch apart, and to be in a line about half an inch from the front edge of the top of the box. The wires were to be passed down through these holes, and then in the bottom of the box, at the points where the ends of those wires would come, respectively, he was to bore other holes, partly through the board, to serve as sockets to receive the lower ends of the wires.

This plan being all agreed upon, Phonny climbed up upon the bench, with his gimlet in his hand, and taking his seat upon the box, was beginning to bore the holes.

“Stop,” said Stuyvesant, “you ought to draw a line and mark off the places first.”

“Oh no,” said Phonny, “I can guess near enough.”

“Well,” said Stuyvesant, “though I don’t think that guessing is a good way.”

Phonny thought that it would take a great while to draw a line and measure off the distances, and so he went on with his boring, looking up, however, continually from his work, to watch the squirrel.

“And now,” said Stuyvesant, “I will begin my work.”

Stuyvesant accordingly went out, taking great care, as he opened and shut the door, not to let the squirrel escape. Presently he returned, bringing his materials. There was a short board for the small door, two long strips for the sides of the ladder, and another long strip, which was to be sawed up into lengths for the cross-bars.

Stuyvesant began first with his door. He went out to the hen-house, carrying with him an instrument called a square, on which feet and inches were marked. With this he measured the hole which his door was to cover, and then making proper allowance for the extension of the door, laterally, beyond the hole, he determined on the length to which he would saw off his board. He determined on the breadth in the same way.

He then went to the shop and sawed off the board to the proper length, and then, with the hatchet and plane, he trimmed it to the proper breadth. Next he made two hinges of leather, and nailed them on in their places, upon the upper side of the board. He then carried his work out to the hen-house, and nailed the ends of the hinges to the cross-bar provided for them. When this was all done, he turned the lid up and fastened it into its place.

Then, standing up, he surveyed his work with a look of satisfaction, and said,

“There!”

He returned to the shop again. When he came to the door he opened it a very little way, and paused, calling out to Phonny, to know if the squirrel was anywhere near.

“No,” said Phonny, “come in.”

So he went in. The squirrel had run along the beams to the back part of the shop, and was nibbling about there among some blocks of wood.

“I have a great mind to feed him,” said Phonny. “He is hungry.”

“Well,” said Stuyvesant.

So Phonny took the ear of corn out of the trap, and breaking it into two or three pieces he carried the parts into the back part of the shop, and put them at different places on the beams. Then he crept back to his work again.

Stuyvesant went to work making his button. He selected a proper piece of wood, sawed it off of the proper length, and then shaped it into the form of a button by means of a chisel, working, in doing this, at the bench. As soon as this operation was completed, he took a large gimlet and bored a hole through the center of the button. He measured very carefully to find the exact center of the button, before he began to bore.

When the button was finished, Stuyvesant looked in Phonny’s nail-box to find a large screw, and when he had found one, he took the screw-driver and went out to the hen-house and screwed the button on. When the screw was driven home to its place, Stuyvesant shut the door and buttoned it. Then standing before it with his screw-driver in his hand, he surveyed his work with another look of satisfaction, and said,

“There! there are two good jobs done.”

He then opened and shut his two doors, both the large and the small one, to see once more whether they worked well. They did work perfectly well, so he turned away and went back toward the shop again, saying,

“Now for the ladder.”

He went back to the shop and entered cautiously as before. He found that Phonny had bored quite a number of holes, and was now engaged in cutting his wire into lengths. He used for this purpose a pair of cutting-plyers, as they are called, an instrument formed much like a pair of nippers. The instrument was made expressly for cutting off wire.

Stuyvesant came to the place where Phonny was at work, and stood near him a few minutes looking on. He perceived that the holes were not in a straight line, nor were they equidistant from each other. He, however, said nothing about it, but soon went to his own work again.

He took the piece of wood which he had selected to make his cross-bars of, and began to consider how many cross-bars he could make from it.

“What is that piece of wood for?” asked Phonny.

“It is for the cross-bars of my ladder,” said Stuyvesant.

“The cross-bars of a ladder ought to be round,” said Phonny. “They always make them round. In fact they call them rounds.”

“Yes,” said Stuyvesant, “I know they do, but I can’t make rounds very well. And besides if I could, I could not make the holes in the side-pieces to put them into. So I am going to make them square, and nail them right on.”

“Hoh!” said Phonny, “that is no way to make a ladder. You can bore the holes easily enough. Here. I’ll show you how. I’ve got an auger.”

So saying, Phonny jumped down from the bench and went and climbed up upon the chopping-block to get down an auger. Phonny had two augers, and they both hung over the block. He took down one and began very eagerly to bore a hole into the side of the chopping-block. He bored in a little way, and then, in attempting to draw the auger out, to clear the hole of chips, the handle came off, leaving the auger itself fast in the hole.

“Ah! this auger is broken,” said Phonny, “I forgot that. I could bore a hole if the auger was not broken.”

“Never mind,” said Stuyvesant, “I don’t think I could make a ladder very well in that way, and don’t like to undertake any thing that I can’t accomplish. So I will make it my way.”

Stuyvesant went out to the hen-house, and measured the height of the loft. He found it to be seven feet. He concluded to have his ladder eight feet long, and to have six cross-bars, one foot apart, the upper and lower cross-bars to be one foot from the ends of the ladder. The cross-bars themselves being about two inches wide each, the breadth of the whole six would be just one foot. This Stuyvesant calculated would make just the eight feet.

Stuyvesant then went back to the shop. He found that the pieces which he had chosen for the sides of the ladder were just about eight feet long.

Phonny came to him while he was measuring, to see what he was going to do.

“How wide are you going to have your ladder?” said he.

“I don’t know,” said Stuyvesant. “I am going to have it as wide as I can.”

So saying, Stuyvesant took down the piece which he had intended for the cross-bars.

“I am going to divide this into six equal parts,” said he, “because I must have six bars.”

So Stuyvesant began to measure. The piece of wood, he found, was eight feet long, – the same as the side pieces of the ladder.

“And now, how are you going to divide it?” said Phonny.

“Why, eight feet,” said Stuyvesant, “make ninety-six inches. I must divide that by six.”