قراءة كتاب The Doers
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little boy sat down on a stone that was just the right size and watched them. His cat came and got right between his feet.
Then the man at the end of the line raised his pickaxe high above his head, and the next man did the same, and then the third man, and so on to the other end of the line.
And the first man struck his pickaxe down hard into the ground, and it made the ground grunt, Mnh!
And the second man did the same, and the ground gave another grunt, Mnh!
And then the third man did the same thing, and so on to the other end of the line.
Then the first man was ready again, so that the sound of the pickaxes was as regular as the ticking of the tall clock.
When the pickaxe was in the ground, each man gave a kind of a pry that loosened the dirt.
And when they had picked, the men went ahead a little short step and picked a new place and left the loosened dirt behind, so that, pretty soon, they were walking on the dirt that they had loosened.
The cat had got tired of lying between the little boy's feet and having no attention paid to her, so she got up and ran off a little way, and stopped and looked back, but the little boy wouldn't look.
So she walked back, with her bushy tail straight up in the air, and rubbed against the little boy's legs.
Still the little boy didn't notice her. And the reason why he didn't notice her was that the horses were being hitched to the big iron scoop.
As soon as the horses were hitched to the scoop, they started walking along; and the scoop turned right over on its face, upside down, because the man didn't have hold of the handles.
And the horses dragged the scoop, upside down, and it bumped over the stones and made a ringing kind of noise, and they dragged it in between the boards and over the dirt that had been loosened by the pickaxes, and when they got to the end of the loosened dirt, they stopped.
Then the man turned the horses around, and he took hold of the handles of the scoop and turned it over; and he kept hold of the handles, and the horses started, and the scoop dug into the loose dirt and scooped it right up and carried it along.
Now the field, where they were digging the cellar, sloped down behind where the cellar was to be, so that, when the horses came to that part, they were walking down-hill.
And the man let go of the handles of the scoop, and it turned over and dumped its load of dirt.
And when the horses heard the scoop bumping and banging on the ground, they turned around of their own accord and walked back to get a new load.
And so they did until they had scooped out all the dirt that had been loosened.
Then the pickaxe men went back and began again on the part that had been scooped, but the horses had to wait for the dirt to be loosened, and they stood outside of the cellar.
It was beginning to look a little bit like a cellar now, but a very shallow one.
And the little boy was getting tired of watching the pickaxes rise and fall and of listening to the noise the ground made. So he got up.
And his cat saw him getting up, and she ran to him, and she saw that he was going to the man with the horses, so she ran ahead, with her bushy tail sticking straight up in the air.
The man saw them coming, and he looked at the little boy and smiled.
"I've got to go now," the little boy said, when he had come to the man.
"So soon?" asked the man. "I hope you aren't tired."
"I think I'd better go home," the little boy said. "P'r'aps my mother would like to see me."
"I shouldn't wonder if she'd like to see you pretty often," the man said. "You tell her that you'll be safe here. I'll keep my eye on you."
"How will you get your eye on me?" the little boy asked.
The man laughed. "Will you come again?"
"I'll come to-morrow," the little boy said. "P'r'aps I'll come this afternoon. Good-bye."
"Good-bye," said the man.
And he watched the little boy as he trudged away, dragging his cart, with his hoe and his shovel rattling in the bottom of it, and with his cat walking beside him and looking up into his face.
And that's all of this story.
II
THE MASON STORY
Once upon a time there was a little boy and he was almost five years old. And there weren't any other children near for him to play with, so he used to play happily all by himself.
He had his cat and his cart and his shovel and his hoe, and he always wore his overalls.
One morning he was sitting right down in the gravel of his front walk, the walk that led to the front door of the house that he lived in, and he had been digging in the gravel. The hole that he was digging was square.
And he had picked the dirt all over with a big nail, and pried it loose, and then he had pretended that his shovel was a big iron scoop that could scoop the dirt out just the way the big scoop did when it was dragged by the horses.
For he had been watching the men dig a cellar in the field next to his house.
And his cat was there, rolling in the gravel and playing with the air.
Pretty soon his mother looked out of a window, and then she came running out.
"My dear little boy," she said, "what are you digging?"
The little boy got up, and the cat scampered away a few feet, with her bushy tail straight up in the air.
"I'm digging a cellar for a house," said the little boy.
"Oh," said his mother. "Well, don't you think you'd better build the house over near the sand-pile? People coming in might not see this house, and they might kick it over and walk on it. But the masons have come to work on the real cellar."
"The masons?" the little boy asked.
"The men to build the cellar wall. You may go and watch them if you like."
The little boy nodded again. Then he put his shovel into his cart, and took hold of the handle of the cart. Then he looked back.
"Good-bye," he said.
"Good-bye, my dear little son," his mother said.
And she watched him trudging away, dragging his cart, with his shovel and his hoe rattling in the bottom of it.
And his cat ran on ahead, with her bushy tail sticking straight up in the air.
The little boy saw a man hoeing slowly at something in a big shallow wooden box.
And the something that he was hoeing at was all white and it slopped here and there; and the hoe was all white, and the outside of the box was all covered with slops of the same white stuff, and the man's shoes were white, too, and the bottoms of his overalls.
And there was a pile of new sand that looked all moist and just right to play in.
There was another man standing at the edge of the cellar and looking down into it.
The cellar itself was so deep now that the little boy could just see the tops of the hats of the men who were working in it.
The man who had been looking down into the cellar heard the shovel and the hoe rattling in the cart and looked up.
"Hello!" he called.
"Hello," said the little boy. "What are you doing?"
"I'm just looking to see if the men do their work right. Come over here and I'll show you."
So the little boy left his