The fire snapped and kindled and began immediately to warm up the little stove.

Daisy took the kettle and went into the same lumber shed to look for water.

But though an empty tin pail stood there, the water in it was no more than a spoonful.
Nothing else held any.

Daisy looked out.

A worn path in the grass shewed the way to the place where Molly filled her water pail--a, little basin of a spring at some distance from the house.