_Mother._ And now, Caroline, take your hand and rub it quickly backwards
and forwards, over that woolen table-cloth, on the table in the corner
of the room, and tell me whether that will make your hand warm.
_Daughter._ O, yes, dear mother; I feel it grow warmer, the faster I rub
it.
_Mother._ Here are two small pieces of wood. Touch them to your cheek,
and tell me whether they feel warm now.
_Daughter._ They do not feel warm, nor cold, mother.
_Mother._ Now rub them together quickly a little while, and then touch
them to your cheek.
[Illustration: R]
_Daughter._ O, dear, mother! they are so hot that they almost burnt my
cheek.
_Mother._ Yes, Caroline; and do you not recollect, when you read
Robinson Crusoe, that his man Friday made a fire by rubbing two pieces
of wood together?
_Daughter._ O, yes, dear mother; and I have often wondered why Alice
could not light her lire and the lamp in the same manner, without those
matches, which have so offensive a smell.
_Mother._ It is very hard work, my dear, to obtain fire by rubbing two
pieces of wood together; and it would take too long a time to do it.
Pages:
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74