The fire crackled.

It roared up the big chimney.

The jack-pine knots, heavy with pitch, gave to the top of the stove a rosy glow.

Thoreau stuffed more fuel into the blazing firepot, and the glow spread cheerfully, and with the warmth that was filling the cabin there mingled the sweet scent of the pine-pitch and burning balsam.

David rubbed his hands.