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Ye can't go way down there. No, sir, ye can't. Go back an' lay down on the piaz." Shep was fawning at my uncle's foot and rubbing his neck on his boot and looking up at him. "What's that ye say?" Uncle Peabody went on, looking down and turning his ear as if he had heard the dog speak and were in some doubt of his meaning. "Eh? What's that? An empty house makes ye terrible sad on a Chris'mas day?

I remember that my aunts rallied me on my supposed liking for "that Dunkelberg girl." "Now for the Chris'mas tree," said Uncle Peabody as he led the way into our best room, where a fire was burning in the old Franklin grate. "Come on, boys an' girls." What a wonderful sight was the Christmas tree the first we had had in our house a fine spreading balsam loaded with presents!

"Laurel and magnify His holy name," and to return thanks to God for his great Christmas gift of a Saviour to the world. As they were leaving the chapel after service, Dumps drew close to her mother and whispered, "Mamma, bein' as this is Chris'mas an' it's rainin', can't we have some of the little quarter niggers to go to the house and play Injuns with us?"

"Oh, take me with you, take me with you!" cried Molly, jumping up. The Indian shook his head. When Molly insisted, he said tersely: "No, not safe for little white girl yet. Maje Molly stay here till I come back." Molly's face fell. Wallula stole up to her. "I got bewt'ful Chris'mas present for Maje Molly," she said softly. "Maje Molly stay see it with Wallula."

"Well, well," resumed Old Zeb, "we all have our random intervals, and a drop o' cider in the mouthpieces is no less than Pa'son looks for, Chris'mas mornin's." "Trew, trew as proverbs." "Howsever, 'twas cruel bad, that last psa'm, I won't gainsay. As for that long-legged boy o' mine, I keep silence, yea, even from hard words, considerin' what's to come.

"I been kep' so long up-country this time, 'count o' the turkey trade Thanksgivin' and Chris'mas, y'know. I do considerable in poultry." But some days passed, and Larcher heard nothing from Mr. Bud. A few of the newspapers published Detective Lafferty's unearthings, before Larcher had time to prepare Miss Kenby for them.

"Every time I feels thu iniquity o' thust comin' on me I jes' swaps the price o' a drink from my sack to a leetle ole terbacca bag I totes especial foh thet puppos, and goes an' dips my beak in healthy alkali wateh like a sensibul, fohbeahing Christian should. It were two bits every time an' by thu time Chris'mas comes raound thu smoke bag were plumb full. I suttinly fohboah a heap thet summah."

"Well, when Marse Chan wuz born dey wuz de grettes' doin's at home you ever did see. De folks all hed holiday, jes' like in de Chris'mas.

I declar' I'll hev you sold down South the nex' time ole Jake Hopkins teks a drove to Alabam'. I reckon you won't hev much time fur noddin' down in them cottonfields, with the overseer's lash a-lippin' yer back ever' time he sees you idlin'. You'd better mek yer needles fly, fur nary a thing 'cept a switch an' some ashes will you git in yer Chris'mas stockin', ef all them socks fur Rube an' Tom ain't done by then.

They's things wot is an' things wot ain't; an' I guess Hop ain't goin' to spend no Chris'mas in jail. It's the white card an' poultry an' eggs fer us; an' we're goin' t' put in a couple more incubators right away. I'm thinkin' some o' rentin' that acre across th' brook back yonder an' raisin' turkeys.