Swiss Family Robinson

building.
    Among my minor occupations, I applied myself to the improvement of our candles. Though the former batch had greatly delighted us at first, yet we were soon obliged to acknowledge that the light they gave was imperfect, and their appearance was unsightly; my wife, too, begged me to find some substitute for the threads of our cotton neck-ties*, which I had previously used as wicks.
    * Not what we today call neckties, but rather a soft band of cloth worn loosely around the neck and used as a sweatband, to keep sweat and dirt from lodging in the neckband of the shirt. A collar at this time was a separate piece of cloth, buttoned on and worn only for at least semi-formal occasions.
    To give the proper shape and smoothness to the candles, I determined to use the bamboo moulds I had prepared. My first idea was to pour the wax in at the end of the mould, and then when the candles were cooled to slip them out; but I was soon convinced that this plan would not succeed.
    I therefore determined to divide the moulds lengthways, and then, having greased them well, we might pour the melted wax into the two halves bound tightly together, and so be able to take out the candles when cool without injuring them.
    The wicks were my next difficulty, and as my wife positively refused to allow us to devote our ties and handkerchiefs for the purpose, I took a piece of inflammable wood from a tree, a native of the Antilles, which I thought would serve our purpose; this I cut into long slips, and fixed in the centres of the moulds. My wife, too, prepared some wicks from the fibres of the karata tree, which she declared would beat mine completely out of the field.
    We put them to the proof. On a large fire we placed a pot, in which we prepared our wax mixture--half bees' wax and half wax from the candleberries. The moulds carefully prepared--half with karata fibre , and half with wooden splint wicks--stood on their ends in a tub of cold water, ready to receive the wax.
    They were filled; the wax cooled; the candles taken out and subjected to the criticism of all hands. When night drew on, they were formally tested. The decision was unanimous: neither gave such a good light as those with the cotton wicks; but even my wife declared that the light from mine was far preferable to that emitted by hers, for the former, though rather flaring, burned brilliantly, while the latter gave out such a feeble and flickering flame that it was almost useless.
    I then turned shoemaker, for I had promised myself a pair of waterproof boots, and now determined to make them.
    Taking a pair of socks, I filled them with sand, and then coated them over with a thin layer of clay to form a convenient mould; this was soon hardened in the sun, and was ready for use. Layer after layer of caoutchouc I brushed over it, allowing each layer to dry before the next was put on, until at length I considered that the shoes were of sufficient thickness. I dried them, broke out the clay, secured with nails a strip of buffalo-hide to the soles, brushed that over with caoutchouc , and I had a pair of comfortable, durable, respectable-looking waterproof boots.
    I was delighted; orders poured in from all sides, and soon everyone in the family was likewise provided for.
    One objection to Falconhurst was the absence of any spring close by, so that the boys were obliged to bring water daily from the stream; and this involving no little trouble, it was proposed that we should carry the water by pipes from the stream to our present residence. A dam had to be thrown across the river some way up stream, that the water might be raised to a sufficient height to run to Falconhurst . From the reservoir thus made we led the water down by pipes into the turtle's shell, which we placed near our dwelling, and from which the superfluous water flowed off through the hole made in it by Fritz's harpoon.
    This was an immense convenience, and we formally inaugurated the trough by washing therein a whole sack of potatoes. Thus day after day brought its own work, and day after day saw that work completed. We had no time to be idle, or to lament our separation from our fellow creatures.
    One morning, as we were completing our spiral staircase, and giving it such finish as we were capable of, we were suddenly alarmed by hearing a most terrific noise, the roaring or bellowing of a wild beast; so strange a sound was it, that I could not imagine by what animal it was uttered.
    Jack thought it perhaps a