“Bring one of the big beech chunks,” Bill said.

There were four big beech logs lying almost buried in the sand.

A beech tree grew close beside the river, so that the branches hung down into the water.

He climbed a fence at the end of the meadow, went down through a ravine, his feet wet in the swamp mud, and then climbed up through the dry beech woods until he saw the lights of the cottage.