So Mrs. Henry, standing up near, read aloud as follows:-- My name is Frink, And unless you think, To give me plenty to eat and drink, You'll find me running away Some day; I shall tip you a wink, Then slyly slink, Out through some secret cranny or chink, And hie for the woods, away, Away. Mrs. Henry laughed heartily at this production. She asked who wrote it. "Why, we found it here one morning," said Phonny. "Stuyvesant says that he thinks Beechnut wrote it." "But Beechnut," added Malleville, "says that he believes that Frink wrote it himself." "Oh no," said Stuyvesant, "he did not say exactly that." "What did he say?" asked Mrs. Henry. "Why, he said," replied Stuyvesant, "that as there was a pen and ink in the shop, and hammer and nails, and as the paper was found nailed up early one morning, when nobody had slept in the shop the night before but Frink, if it did not turn out that Frink himself wrote the lines, he should never believe in any squirrel's writing poetry as long as he lived." Mrs. Henry laughed at this, and she then began to look about the shop to see the tools and the arrangements which had been made by the boys for their work. She found the premises in excellent order. The floor was neat, the tools were all in their proper places, and every thing seemed well arranged. "I suppose the tools are dull, however," said Mrs. Henry, "as boys' tools generally are." "No," said Phonny, "they are all sharp. We have sharpened them every one." "How did you do it?" asked Mrs. Henry. "Why, we turned the grindstone for Beechnut while he ground his axes, and then he held our tools for us to sharpen them. We could not hold them ourselves very well." "We are going to keep them sharp," continued Phonny,--"as sharp as razors. Won't we, Stivy?" "We are going to try it," said Stuyvesant. Phonny took up the plane to show his mother how sharp it was. "Yes," said she; "I like that tool too, very much--it is so safe." The plane is a very safe tool, indeed, for the cutting part, which consists of a plate of iron, faced with steel for an edge, is almost embedded in the wood. It is made in fact on purpose to take off a _thin shaving_ only, from a board, and it would be impossible to make a deep cut into any thing with it. Phonny then showed his mother his chisels. He had four chisels of different sizes. They were very sharp. "It seems to me that a chisel is not so safe a tool as a plane," said Mrs. Henry. "Why not, mother?" asked Phonny. "Why you might be holding a piece of wood with your fingers, and then in trying to cut it with the chisel, the chisel might slip and cut your fingers." "Oh no, mother," said Phonny, "there is no danger." Boys always say there is no danger.