When we'd made a lot of things we set them in the sun to dry, and then it seemed a pity not to do the thing thoroughly.

So we made a bonfire, and when it had burnt down we put our pots on the soft, white, hot ashes among the little red sparks, and kicked the ashes over them and heaped more fuel over the top.

It was a fine fire.
Then tea-time seemed as if it ought to be near, and we decided to come back next day and get our pots.
As we went home across the fields Dicky looked back and said-- 'The bonfire's going pretty strong.' We looked.

It was.

Great flames were rising to heaven against the evening sky.