The Shingle And Clapboard

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Title:     The Shingle And Clapboard
Author: William John Hopkins [More Titles by Hopkins]

Once upon a time there was a little boy, and he was almost five years old, and his name was David. And there weren't any other children near for him to play with, so he used to play happily all by himself.

He had his cat and his cart and his shovel and his hoe, and he always wore his overalls when he was playing.

One day he wandered up to the corner of the road that he lived on.

He wasn't allowed to go beyond that corner, and his mother didn't like to have him go so far as the corner.

But he was pretending, and he didn't know how far he had come.

He played in the gravel of the gutter for a long time, and he was talking nearly all the time.

His cat was there, taking little runs away, with her bushy tail sticking straight up in the air. Then she would lie down on her back and play with the air, and then she always jumped up in a great hurry and ran back to David and rubbed against him.

But David wasn't talking to his cat, and he wasn't talking to himself.

He was talking to the pretend child who was his playmate and who had come there holding to the other handle of his cart and helping him drag it.

And he was so busy that he didn't notice the great wagon that was just about to turn the corner.

The driver called to him.

"Hey, little boy! Don't get run over."

David scrambled up on the sidewalk before he even looked, for he remembered to be careful.

Then he looked, and he saw a big wagon that was drawn by two horses, and the wagon was loaded with short, shiny boards, tied together in bundles, and on top of the bundles of short, shiny boards were bundles of shingles, a great many of them.

David knew what shingles looked like when they came in bundles, but he wondered what the shiny, short boards were.

But he didn't ask, because the horses were almost trotting, they were walking so fast, and the driver seemed to be pretty busy.

He supposed that the shingles and things were going to the new house, and he watched the wagon until it stopped there.

Then he took up the handle of his cart, and he walked off with it as fast as he could walk, and then he began to run, and his shovel and his hoe rattled so that you would have thought they would rattle out.

The pretend child didn't go with David, for he had forgotten all about her.

Sometimes the child was a girl and sometimes it was a boy; but it was a girl that morning. She was left in the gutter at the corner.

And David didn't call his cat, and the cat stayed at the corner for a while, and first she looked at the pretend little girl and then she looked after David, and she didn't know which to go with.

But at last she went running after David, and she caught up with him, and she ran on ahead, with her bushy tail sticking straight up in the air.

When David got to the house, he found the wagon there, and the horses were standing still, and the driver was throwing off the bundles of shingles and another man was piling them up.

They had got almost to the shiny, short boards.

And the foreman was there, and he was putting something down with a very short pencil in a little old book.

"Hello," said David. "What are--"

But the foreman interrupted him.

"Just wait a minute, Davie, until I get these checked up."

So David waited a long time, but the wagon was unloaded at last, and the little book put in the foreman's pocket.

"Now, Davie," the foreman said, "what was it that you were asking me?"

"I was asking what are these," said David, putting his hand on a bundle of the shiny boards.

"Those are clapboards, Davie."

The foreman stooped down and pointed to the house.

"You see they have begun to put them on the outside of the walls of the house, but we had to have some more. You see that one edge of a clapboard is thin and the other edge is thick."

He pulled one of the clapboards from a bundle and showed David.

"The thick edges go over the thin edges, very much like shingles, and they keep the rain and the wind out. You know about shingles?"

David nodded doubtfully.

"I don't know whether I do or not."

"Well," the foreman said, "you ought to know about them. Those two men have just begun to shingle the piazza roof. If you can wait a few minutes, I'll take you up there. You aren't very busy this morning, are you?"

David smiled and shook his head.

The foreman smiled too.

"You wait right here, and I'll come and get you pretty soon."

So David waited, and while he was waiting he watched the men putting on clapboards.

They had begun at the top and had got about halfway down that side.

The side of the house was all covered with red stuff which looked something like cloth and something like thick paper. It was paper, and it rippled and waved in the wind.

The men were putting the clapboards on outside of that red paper.

A man had a pile of clapboards beside him, and he took one up and he lifted the edge of the one above, and he tucked the thin edge of the clapboard that he held in his hand under the edge that he had lifted; and he gave it little taps with his hammer until it was in the right place, and then he drove fine nails through the thick edge that he had lifted, and through the thin edge of the clapboard beneath, and into the wall of the house.

Then he took up another clapboard and put it close up to the one that he had just fastened, with its thin edge tucked under the thick edge of the one above.

The men put on clapboards very fast, and David was so interested in seeing them do it that he forgot that the foreman had not come back for him.

He had gone up nearer, so as to see just how the clapboards went on, when he heard the foreman's voice behind him.

"Well, Davie," said the foreman, "do you think you could put on clapboards as fast as that?"

David shook his head.

"No, I couldn't."

"Perhaps not. But come on, and we'll see what you can do with shingles."

And the foreman took David's small hand in his big one, and they went to where a ladder stood leaning against the edge of the piazza roof.

A little way below the edge of the roof there was a rough sort of a platform, made of two boards laid on some other boards that were nailed to the posts of the piazza and to long sticks which went up and down and had their ends resting on the ground.

This was what the carpenters called a staging or scaffolding, and when they got through their work, they would take it down.

"Now, Davie," said the foreman, "you take hold of the rungs and climb up. It's a pretty long stretch for little legs, but I'll hold you, and I won't let you fall. Don't look down. Look up."

So David took hold of a rung and stretched his leg as high as it would go, and he managed to get his foot on the first rung.

Then he pulled himself up and reached up with one hand and took hold of the next rung; and then he put his other hand up, and he stretched his leg up as high as it would go, and he stepped up another rung.

The rungs of a ladder are the little round sticks that go across that you put your feet on.

David climbed very slowly, and he was rather scared at first; but he felt the foreman's arm around him, and the foreman kept just behind him, so that he stopped being scared.

And he climbed a little faster, and he came to the platform.

"Now, what shall I do?" he asked.

"Now you hold your breath," the foreman said, "and I'll put you over on to the staging."

So Davie held his breath and one of the shingle men came and held him by the arms when the foreman had set him down upon the boards.

Then the foreman stepped upon the staging and put his arm around David again.

"There!" said the foreman. "You've climbed your first ladder. Now we'll see about the shingling."

There was a whole bundle of shingles on the staging, and another bundle that had been opened, and the shingle men had thrown a good many of these shingles up on the roof, so that they would be handy.

And David saw that there were three rows of shingles on already, and that a string was stretched tight across the last row; and the string was chalky-looking, and blue.

"They're just going to mark another row," the foreman said. "You watch."

Then one of the shingle men lifted the stretched string between his thumb and his forefinger, and he let it go, and it snapped down hard upon the shingles.

And they took the string away, and there was a blue line all along the row of shingles.

"What is that?" David asked.

"Chalk, Davie. They put chalk on the string by rubbing a lump of chalk on it. That line shows where the edge of the next row of shingles goes.

"And they lay the shingles on so that each crack in the row beneath is covered. The shingles are different widths, you see, and they can always find one that fits up close to the next one and covers a crack.

"If the cracks were not covered, the rain would get through and the roof would leak.

"Now let's see if you can lay shingles. Pick out one that you think will be right to cover the crack in the row beneath, and lay it down close up to the last one and with its thick edge to that blue line."

David was rather excited at the thought that he was to lay the shingles.

"Shall I?" he asked.

The foreman nodded, and he pointed to a shingle.

"Try that one."

So David took the one that the foreman pointed at, and he laid it down as well as he could, close up to the last one which the shingle man had put on, and with its thick edge at the blue line.

It took him some time, because he had never laid shingles before; but the shingle man had only to change it a tiny bit, and then he drove in two nails about halfway up toward the thin edge.

And David took another shingle which the foreman pointed at, and he fitted it in its place a little more quickly, and the shingle man didn't have to change that one at all, but drove the nails with hardly more than two blows of his hammer.

So David kept on laying shingles, and the shingle man nailed them.

At first the foreman pointed to the right shingles; but, after a while, he didn't point, but David chose them himself.

And they finished that row, and they began the next.

"I'm afraid, Davie," the foreman said, "that we'll have to go down now. Aren't you ready to go?"

David was getting a little bit tired, for the shingle man nailed his shingles before he could wink, and he felt hurried all the time.

So he said that he was ready, and the foreman took him under his arm and carried him down the ladder that way.

"Good-bye," he called to the shingle men as he was going down.

"Good-bye," the shingle men called to David. "We're much obliged."

"You're welcome," David called back to the shingle men.

Then he was set down on the ground, and he was rather glad to feel the ground again.

And his cat came running, with her bushy tail straight up in the air, and David started off.

"Where are you going so fast?" the foreman asked.

David stopped for a moment.

"I've got to go home now."

"To tell your mother that you've been shingling?"

David nodded, and he smiled shyly.

"Well, good-bye, Davie," the foreman said.

"Good-bye," said David.

And he turned again and ran to his cart, and he took up the handle.

And he started walking as fast as he could, dragging his cart, with his shovel and his hoe rattling in the bottom, and his cat ran on ahead; and she ran right up the front steps and in at the door, and David came after.

But he left his cart in the path.

And that's all of the shingle story.

[The end]
William John Hopkins's short story: The Shingle And Clapboard Story

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