Then he lighted the fire, while Butterwick bored the hole about four inches deep.  When he took the auger out, the sap did not follow, but Butterwick’s wife’s uncle said what it wanted was a little time, and so, while the folks waited, he put a fresh armful of wood on the fire.  They waited half an hour; and as the sap didn’t come, Butterwick concluded that the hole was not deep enough, so he began boring again, but he bored too far, for the auger went clear through the tree and penetrated the back of his wife’s uncle, who was leaning up against the trunk trying to light his pipe.  He jumped nearly forty feet, and they had to mend him up with court-plaster.

[Illustration:  TOO MUCH OF A BORE.]

Then he said he thought the reason the sap didn’t come was that there ought to be a kind of spigot in the hole, so as to let it run off easily.  They got the wooden spigot from the vinegar-barrel in the cellar and inserted it.  Then, as the sap did not come, Butterwick’s wife’s uncle said he thought the spigot must be jammed in so tight that it choked the flow; and while Butterwick tried to push it out, his wife’s uncle fed the fire with some kindling-wood.  As the spigot could not be budged with a hammer, Butterwick concluded to bore it out with the auger; and meanwhile his wife’s uncle stirred the fire.  Then, the auger broke off short in the hole, and Butterwick had to go half a mile to the hardware-store to get another one.

Then Butterwick bored a fresh hole; and although the sap would not come, the company did; and they examined with much interest the kettle, which was now red-hot, and which Butterwick’s wife’s uncle was trying to lift off the fire with the hay-fork.  As the sap still refused to come, Butterwick went over for Keyser to ask him how to make the exasperating tree disgorge.  When he arrived, he looked at the hole, then at the spigot, then at the kettle and then at the tree.  Then, turning to Butterwick with a mournful face, he said,

“Butterwick, you have had a good deal of trouble in your life, an’ it’s done you good; it’s made a man of you.  This world is full of sorrow, but we must bear it without grumbling.  You know that, of course.  Consequently, now that I’ve some bad news to break to you, I feel ’sif the shock won’t knock you endways, but’ll be received with patient resignation.  I say I hope you won’t break down an’ give away to your feelin’s when I tell you that there tree is no sugar-maple at all.  Grashus! why, that’s a black hickory.  It is, indeed; and you might as well bore for maple-sugar in the side of a telegraph-pole.”

Then the company went home, and Butterwick’s wife’s uncle said he had an engagement with a man in Hatboro’ which he must keep right off.  Butterwick took the kettle up to the house; but as it was burned out, he sold it next day for fifteen cents for old iron and bought a new one for twelve dollars.  He thinks now maybe it’s better to buy your maple sugar.