Of the sideboards he fashioned a rude frame, then a door to stand in it, fitted into grooves that it might be pushed and held into place without hinges. "Of course I got to take down my door every time I comes in or out," remarked Willock, regarding his structure with much complacency, "but they's nothing else to do, and I got to be occupied." When he had transported the stove to the cove, he set it up with a tingle of expectant pleasure. It was to be his day of housewarming, not because the weather had grown cold, but that he might celebrate. "This here," he said, "is to be a red-letter day, a day plumb up in X, Y and Z. I got to take my gun and forage for some game; then I'll dress my fresh meat and have a cooking. I'll bring over some grub to keep it company. Let's see--this is plum-day, ain't it?" He stood meditating, stroking his wild whiskers with a grimy hand. "Oh, Lord, yes, I believe it IS plum-day! 'Well, they ain't nothing the way you would have made it yourself,' says Brick, 'not even though it's you as made it.' This here is plum-day, and that there can of plums will shore be opened. And having my first fire gives me a chance to open up my sack of flour; won't I hold carnival! What I feels sorry about myself is knowing how I'm going to feel after I've et all them victuals. I believe I'll take a bath, too, in that pool over yonder in the grove. Ain't I ever going to use that there soap?... But I don't say as I will. Don't seem wuth while. They ain't nobody to see me, and I feels clean insides. As I takes it, you do your washing for them as neighbors with you. If I had a neighbor!--just a dog, a little yaller dog--or some chickens to crow and cackle--" He broke off, to lean despondently on his gun. He remained thus motionless for a long time, his earth-stained garments, unkempt hair, hard dark hands and gloomy eye marking him as the only object in the bright sunshine standing forth unresponsive to nature's smile. He started into life with a shrug of his powerful shoulders. "It's just like you, Brick, to spoil a festibul-day with your low idees! Why don't you keep them idees for a rainy day? Just lay up them regrets and hankerings for the first rainy day, and then be of a piece with the heavens and earth. 'If you can't stay cheerful while the sun's shining,' says Brick, 'God's wasting a mighty nice big sun on YOU!'"