The tea-things were cleared away by Mrs. Crump, who afterwards sat down to her sewing.  Aunt Rachel continued to knit in grim silence, while Jack seated himself on a three-legged stool near his aunt, and began to whittle out a boat after a model lent him by Tom Piper, a young gentleman whose aunt has already been referred to.

The cooper took out his spectacles, wiped them carefully with his handkerchief, and as carefully adjusted them to his nose.  He then took down from the mantel-piece one of the few books belonging to his library,—­“Captain Cook’s Travels,”—­and began to read, for the tenth time it might be, the record of the gallant sailor’s circumnavigations.

The plain little room presented a picture of peaceful tranquillity, but it proved to be only the calm which precedes a storm.

The storm in question, I regret to say, was brought about by the luckless Jack.  As has been said, he was engaged in constructing a boat, the particular operation he was now intent upon being the excavation or hollowing out.  Now three-legged stools are not the most secure seats in the world.  That, I think, no one can doubt who has any practical acquaintance with them.  Jack was working quite vigorously, the block from which the boat was to be fashioned being held firmly between his knees.  His knife having got wedged in the wood, he made an unusual effort to draw it out, in which he lost his balance, and disturbed the equilibrium of his stool, which, with his load, tumbled over backwards.  Now it very unfortunately happened that Aunt Rachel sat close behind, and the treacherous stool came down with considerable force upon her foot.

A piercing shriek was heard, and Aunt Rachel, lifting her foot, clung to it convulsively, while an expression of pain distorted her features.

At the sound, the cooper hastily removed his spectacles, and letting “Captain Cook” fall to the floor, started up in great dismay—­Mrs. Crump likewise dropped her sewing, and jumped to her feet in alarm.

It did not take long to see how matters stood.

“Hurt ye much, Rachel?” inquired Timothy.

“It’s about killed me,” groaned the afflicted maiden.  “Oh, I shall have to have my foot cut off, or be a cripple anyway.”  Then turning upon Jack, fiercely, “you careless, wicked, ungrateful boy, that I’ve been wearin’ myself out knittin’ for.  I’m almost sure you did it a purpose.  You won’t be satisfied till you’ve got me out of the world, and then—­then, perhaps——­” here Rachel began to whimper, “perhaps you’ll get Tom Piper’s aunt to knit your stockings.”

“I didn’t mean to, Aunt Rachel,” said Jack, penitently, eyeing his aunt, who was rocking to and fro in her chair.  “Besides, I hurt myself like thunder,” rubbing vigorously the lower part of the dorsal-region.

“Served you right,” said his aunt, still clasping her foot.

“Sha’n’t I get something for you to put on it?” asked Mrs. Crump of (sic) her-sister-in-law.