"That last part would be all right," said the old man with a smile; "but I haven't any place to keep a chicken. It would get lonesome, I'm afraid, while I'm off in the forest chopping wood. But I thank you just the same."
"Didn't you ever have any children?" asked Flossie, taking a second glass of milk which the kindly old man gave her.
"Never a one. Though when I was a boy I lived in a place where there were two children, I think. But it's all kind of hazy."
"Where was that?" asked Freddie, brushing up the last of the bread crumbs from his plate.
"I don't remember much about my folks. Most of my life has beent spent working on farmers' land, until I got so old I could not plow or cut hay. Then the man who owns this forest said I might come here and chop fire-wood, and I did. I built this cabin myself, and I've lived all alone in it for many years."
This was so, for Jack had been in the woods from the time when Bert and Nan were babies, so Flossie and Freddie had often heard their older brother and sister say.
"Haven't you any folks?" asked Freddie.
