"Well," said he, "have you come to see what's going on?"
"No," said Ellen, "I've been looking — but Mr. Van Brunt,
could you be so good as to let me have a hammer and half-a-
dozen nails?"
"A hammer and half-a-dozen nails; — come this way," said he.
They went out of the barn-yard and across the chip-yard to an
out-house below the garden, and not far from the spout, called
the poultry-house; though it was quite as much the property of
the hogs, who had a regular sleeping apartment there, where
corn was always fed out to the fatting ones. Opening a kind of
granary store-room, where the corn for this purpose was
stowed, Mr. Van Brunt took down from a shelf a large hammer
and a box of nails, and asked Ellen what size she wanted.
"Pretty large."
"So?"
"No, a good deal bigger yet, I should like."
"A good deal bigger yet — who wants 'em?"
"I do," said Ellen, smiling.
"You do! do you think your little arms can manage that big
hammer?"
"I don't know; I guess so; I'll try."
"Where do you want 'em driv?"
"Up in a closet in my room," said Ellen, speaking as softly as
if she had feared her aunt was at the corner; "I want 'em to
hang up dresses and things."
Mr. Van Brunt half smiled, and put up the hammer and nails on
the shelf again.
"Now, I'll tell you what we'll do," said he; — "you can't
manage them big things; I'll put 'em up for you to-night when
I come in to supper.
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