Suddenly his face cleared.
"Ye ain't in yer dotage--by gum, ye ain't!" he cried excitedly. "An' I
ain't, neither. An' what's more, you're a-goin' ter have that tree--ice
cream, pink pep'mints, an' all!"
"Oh, my grief an' conscience--Samuel!" quavered Lydia Ann.
"Well, ye be. We can do it easy, too. We'll have it the night 'fore
Christmas. The children don't get here until Christmas day, ever, ye
know, so 't won't interfere a mite with their visit, an' 'twill be all
over 'fore they get here. An' we'll make a party of it, too," went on
Samuel gleefully. "There's the Hopkinses an' old Mis' Newcomb, an' Uncle
Tim, an' Grandpa Gowin'--they'll all come an' be glad to."
"Samuel, could we?" cried Lydia Ann, incredulous but joyous. "Could we,
really?"
"I'll get the tree myself," murmured Samuel, aloud, "an' we can buy some
o' that shiny stuff up ter the store ter trim it."
"An' I'll get some of that pink-an'-white tarl'tan for bags," chimed in
Lydia Ann happily: "the pink for the white pep'mints, an' the white for
the pink. Samuel, won't it be fun?" And to hear her one would have
thought her seventeen instead of seventy-three.
* * * * *
A week before Christmas Samuel Bertram's only daughter, Ella, wrote this
letter to each of her brothers:
It has occurred to me that it might be an excellent idea if we would
plan to spend a little more time this year with Father and Mother when
we go for our usual Christmas visit; and what kind of a scheme do you
think it would be for us to take the children, and make a real family
reunion of it?
I figure that we could all get there by four o'clock the day before
Christmas, if we planned for it; and by staying perhaps two days after
Christmas we could make quite a visit.
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