When each party had related the day's adventures, and while the mother was cooking the crawfish, we went to bring our store of planks to land. Even this apparently simple operation required thought, and I had to improvise rope-harness for the cow and the donkey, by which we could make them drag each board separately from the water's edge to the margin of the stream.
CRAWFISH.
Jack showed me where he thought the bridge should be, and I certainly saw no better place, as the banks were at that point tolerably close to one another, steep, and of about equal height.
“How shall we find out if our planks are long enough to reach across?” said I. “A surveyor's table would be useful now.”
“What do you say to a ball of string, father?” said Ernest. “Tie one end to a stone, throw it across, then draw it back, and measure the line!”
Adopting my son's idea, we speedily ascertained the distance across to be eighteen feet. Then allowing three feet more at each side, I calculated twenty-four feet as the necessary length of the boards.
The question as to how the planks were to be laid across was a difficult one. We resolved to discuss it during dinner, to which we were now summoned. And my wife, as we sat resting,
