Therefore, they had
to be placed about its base on the floor.
The blacksmith had made a lot of little axes, shovels, picks, and
hammers, all of which had been filed and polished with the greatest
care and affectionate regard for the tiny man whose tree and Christmas
all desired to make the finest in the world.
The teamster had evolved, from the inside lining of his winter coat, a
hybrid duck-dog-bear that he called a "woolly sheep."
One of the men had whittled out no less than four fat tops, all ringed
with colors and truly beautiful to see, that he said were the best he
had ever beheld, despite the fact that something was in them that
seemed to prevent them from spinning.
Another old fellow brought a pair of rusty skates which were large
enough for a six-foot man. He told of the wonderful feats he had once
performed on the ice as he hung them on the tree for little Skeezucks.
The envy of all was awakened, however, by Field, the father of the
camp, who fetched a drum that would actually make a noise. He had
built this wonder out of genuine sheep-skin, stretched over both of the
ends of a bright tin can of exceptional size, from which he had eaten
the contents solely with the purpose in view of procuring the metal
cylinder.
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