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"Calamerty!" yelled Keno, and he disappeared within the door. Jim almost made haste. "What kind of a calamity?" said he, as he entered the room. "What's went wrong?" "The lemon-pie!" said Keno, whose face was a study in the art of expressing consternation. "Oh," said Jim, instantly relieved, "is that all?" "All?" echoed Keno. "By jinks!
I said, it was lemon-pie, and the top-crust was made of kisses, and would he have some? And he said, he didn't care for anybody's kisses but mine, and he believed he wouldn't. And I told him the receipt of this came from the Queen's own kitchen. And he said, he didn't know that the Queen of England was any better than the Queen of Hearts.
Outside of this yard was the usual wharfish neighborhood, with its turmoil of trucks and carts and fleet express-wagons, its building up and pulling down, its discomfort and clamor of every sort, and its shops for the sale, not only of those luxuries which Lucy had mentioned, but of such domestic refreshments as lemon-pie and hulled-corn.
"What are you goin' to do fer a turkey?" inquired Field. "And rich brown gravy?" added the carpenter. "And cranberry sauce and mince-pie?" supplemented Lufkins. "Well, maybe we could git a rabbit for the turkey," answered the smith. "And, by jinks! I kin make a lemon-pie that tastes like a chunk dropped out of heaven," volunteered Keno, pulling at his sleeves.
"Well, dears, you can; only be quiet, and let Rose go and take her iron and be made tidy, and then we will see what we can find for supper," said the old lady as she trotted away, followed by a volley of directions for the approaching feast. "Marmalade for me, auntie." "Plenty of plum-cake, please." "Tell Debby to trot out the baked pears." "I'm your man for lemon-pie, ma'am."
In sheer concern old Jim went forth that cold and windy afternoon of the day but four removed from Christmas, to make at least a show of working on his claim. Keno, Skeezucks, and the pup remained behind, the little red-headed man being busily engaged in some great culinary mystery from which he said his lemon-pie for Christmas should evolve.
"Would you keep it, sure, and feed it to 'em all the same?" inquired Keno, forlornly, eager for a ray of hope. "I certainly would," replied the miner. "They won't know the diff between a lemon-pie and a can of tomatoes. So I guess I'll go and git my pick. It may come on to snow, and then I couldn't find it till the spring."
Nor did he fail to live up to this opening liberality; for after guiding them through the Mall and the Ramble he led the way to a rustic restaurant where, also at his expense, they fared idyllically on milk and lemon-pie.
"And the rabbit fer a turkey," added a friend. "Well, by jinks! you'll git the lemon-pie all right, if you don't git nuthin' else," declared little Keno. "If only I can plan it out I'll fetch the tree," said Jim. "I'd like to do that for the little boy." "Jim's an awful clever ole cuss," said Field, trusting to work some benefit by a judicious application of flattery.
Maria raised her head and pushed Evelyn gently away. "Nothing whatever is the matter, dear," she said, firmly, and took up her work again. "Folks don't turn as white as sheets if nothing is the matter," said Aunt Maria, still in her harsh, accusing voice. "I want to know what is the matter. Did your dinner hurt you? You ate that lemon-pie."
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