When I was a little boy, I remember, one cold winter morning, I was accosted by a smiling man with an ax on his shoulder. "My pretty boy," said he, "has your father a grindstone?"
"Yes, sir," said I.
"You are a fine little fellow!" said he. "Will you, let me grind my ax on it?"
Pleased with the compliment of "fine little fellow," "Oh, yes, sir," I answered. "It is down in the shop."
"And will you, my man," said he, patting me on the head, "get me a little hot water?"
How could I refuse? I ran, and soon brought a kettleful.
"How old are you - and what's your name?" continued he, without waiting for a reply. "I'm sure you are one of the finest lads that I have ever seen. Will you just turn a few minutes for me?"

License information: nan
MPAA: PG
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