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Peter nudged Kitty, who sat next him, and said, “Look, will yer, ev’ry feller’s got his own partic’lar butter; I suppose that’s to show yer can eat that much ‘n no more. No, it ain’t neither, for that pig of a Peory’s just gittin’ another helpin’!” “Yes,” whispered Kitty, “an’ the napkins is marked with big red letters. I wonder if that’s so nobody ‘ll nip ’em; an’ oh, Peter, look at the pictures painted right on ter the dishes. Did yer ever!”

“The plums is all took out o’ my cramb’ry sarse, an’ it’s friz to a stiff jell!” shouted Peoria, in wild excitement.

“Hi–yah! I got a wish-bone!” sung Larry, regardless of Sarah Maud’s frown; after which she asked to have his seat changed, giving as excuse that he gen’ally set beside her, an’ would “feel strange;” the true reason being that she desired to kick him gently, under the table, whenever he passed what might be termed “the McGrill line.”

“I declare to goodness,” murmured Susan, on the other side, “there’s so much to look at I can’t scarcely eat nothin!”

“Bet yer life I can!” said Peter, who had kept one servant busily employed ever since he sat down; for, luckily, no one was asked by Uncle Jack whether he would have a second helping, but the dishes were quietly passed under their noses, and not a single Ruggles refused anything that was offered him, even unto the seventh time. Then, when Carol and Uncle Jack perceived that more turkey was a physical impossibility, the meats were taken off and the dessert was brought in–a dessert that would have frightened a strong man after such a dinner as had preceded it. Not so the Ruggleses–for a strong man is nothing to a small boy–and they kindled to the dessert as if the turkey had been a dream and the six vegetables an optical delusion. There was plum-pudding, mince-pie, and ice-cream, and there were nuts, and raisins, and oranges. Kitty chose ice-cream, explaining that she knew it “by sight,” but hadn’t never tasted none; but all the rest took the entire variety, without any regard to consequences.

“My dear child,” whispered Uncle Jack, as he took Carol an orange, “there is no doubt about the necessity of this feast, but I do advise you after this to have them twice a year, or quarterly, perhaps, for the way they eat is positively dangerous; I assure you I tremble for that terrible Peoria. I’m going to run races with her after dinner.”

“Never mind,” laughed Carol, “let them eat for once; it does my heart good to see them, and they shall come oftener next year.”

The feast being over, the Ruggleses lay back in their chairs languidly, and the table was cleared in a trice; then a door was opened into the next room, and there, in a corner facing Carol’s bed, which had been wheeled as close as possible, stood the brilliantly lighted Christmas-tree, glittering with gilded walnuts and tiny silver balloons, and wreathed with snowy chains of pop-corn. The presents had been bought mostly with Carol’s story money, and were selected after long consultations with Mrs. Bird. Each girl had a blue knitted hood, and each boy a red crocheted comforter, all made by Mama, Carol and Elfrida (“because if you buy everything, it doesn’t show so much love,” said Carol). Then every girl had a pretty plaid dress of a different color, and every boy a warm coat of the right size. Here the useful presents stopped, and they were quite enough; but Carol had pleaded to give them something “for fun.” “I know they need the clothes,” she had said, when they were talking over the matter just after Thanksgiving, “but they don’t care much for them, after all. Now, Papa, won’t you PLEASE let me go without part of my presents this year, and give me the money they would cost, to buy something to amuse them?”