fed their nurslings like maternal birds, while Frank presided over
the feast with great dignity, and ate a dinner which would have
astonished Mamma, if she had not been too busy to observe how
fast the mince pie vanished.
“The girls said Christmas was spoiled because of us; but I don’t
think so, and they won’t either, when they see this splendid place
and know all about our nice plans,” said Jill, luxuriously eating the
nut-meats Jack picked out f or her, as they lay in Eastern style at
the festive board.
“I call this broken bones made easy. I never had a better Christmas.
Have a raisin? Here’s a good fat one.” And Jack made a long arm
to Jill’s mouth, which began to sing “Little Jack Homer” as an
appropriate return.
“It would have been a lonesome one to all of us, I’m thinking, but
for your mother, boys. My duty and hearty thanks to you, mem,”
put in grateful Mrs. Pecq, bowing over her coffee-cup as she had
seen ladies bow over their wine-glasses at dinner parties in Old
England.
“I rise to propose a health, Our Mothers.” And Frank stood up with
a goblet of water, for not even at Christmas time was wine seen on
that table.
“Hip, hip, hurrah!” called Jack, baptizing himself with a good
sprinkle, as he waved his glass and drank the toast with a look that
made his mother’s eyes fill with happy tears.
Jill threw her mother a kiss, feeling very grown up and elegant to
be dining out in such style. Then they’d rank everyone’s health
with much merriment, till Frank declared that Jack would float off
on the deluge of water he splashed about in his enthusiasm, and
Mamma proposed a rest after the merry-making.
“Now the best fun is coming, and we have not long to wait,” said
the boy, when naps and rides about the room had whiled away the
brief interval between dinner and dusk, for the evening
entertainment was to be an early one, to suit the invalids bedtime.
“I hope the girls will like their things. I helped to choose them, and
each has a nice present. I don’t know mine, though, and I’m in a
twitter to see it,” said Jill, as they lay waiting for the fun to begin.
“I do; I chose it, so I know you will like one of them, anyway.”
“Have I got more than one?”
“I guess you’ll think so when they are handed down. The bell was
going all day yesterday, and the girls kept bringing in bundles for
you; I see seven now,” and Jack rolled his eyes from one
mysterious parcel to another hanging on the laden boughs.
“I know something, too. That square bundle is what you want ever
so much. I told Frank, and he got it for his present. It is all red and
gold outside, and every sort of color inside; you’ll hurrah when
you see it. That roundish one is yours too; I made them,” cried Jill,
pointing to a flat package tied to the stem of the tree, and a neat
little roll in which were the blue mittens that she had knit for him.
“I can wait”; but the boy’s eyes shone with eagerness, and he could
not resist firing two or three pop-corns at it to see whether it was
hard or soft.
“That barking dog is for Boo, and the little yellow sled, so Molly
can drag him to school, he always tumbles down so when it is
slippery,” continued Jill, proud of her superior knowledge, as she
showed a small spotted animal hanging by its tail, with a red
tongue displayed as if about to taste the sweeties in the horn
below.
“Don’t talk about sleds, for mercy’s sake! I never want to see
another, and you wouldn’t, either, if you had to lie with a flat-iron
tied to your ankle, as I do,” said Jack, with a kick of the well leg
and an ireful glance at the weight attached to the other that it
might not contract while healing.
“Well, I think plasters, and liniment, and rubbing, as bad as
flat-irons any day. I don’t believe you have ached half so much as I