me at home, ye know, Dave." Whereupon Miss Polly added her
entreaties, and said he needn't expect anything very much, but if he
would walk up they would be very happy to have him. Mr. Tripple would
have walked up--and, indeed, wanted very much to walk up--at first, but
his extreme awkwardness, aggravated by holiday clothes of a tight cut
and by a paper collar bent above his coat like a scimetar, and almost as
sharp and glistening as that weapon, impelled him to do violence to his
wishes in order to appear calm--under _her_ eyes--and to deceive them
politely as to his real desire. But now, lured on by the siren voice of
Polly, he consented to go up "a little while" (which meant all the
afternoon), and taking the white box under his arm he locked the
shop-door and followed them up the creaking stairs.

Arrived in the room and relieved of hat and coat, Mr. Tripple bowed
mysteriously to Dolly, and, intrusting her with the box, whispered,--"Go
and hand that to sister Polly, little un." Polly, receiving it from her,
exclaimed in surprise,--

"For me, Mr. Tripple?"

"Yes, miss," he replied, growing red and smiling broadly, "a little
something for Christmas, that's all."

Polly opened the box and extracted a pasteboard plane with some
artificial shavings pasted upon it, which, when lifted apart, discovered
a heap of sweetmeats. Dolly and Molly, looking on, exclaimed, "Why, Mr.
Tripple, what a surprise!" and Polly blushingly added, "So very
unexpected!"

Mr. Tripple grew redder and nervously crossed his legs, saying, "I
thought 'twould be kind a appropriate to the trade, you know, and so I
just fetched it up, and----"

Then Polly, seeing his embarrassment, called on David and the rest to
come and help themselves, and there was good humor and laughing until
the twins darted away to got dinner, which was soon prepared, for there
was little enough to get, and all invited to sit up to the table.

All were duly in their places, and David had, in accordance with
Christmas custom, offered grace. Mr. Tripple and the girls were slowly
raising their bowed heads, when a loud knock announced a visitor, and
hastened the raising of heads to an unseemly hurry.

"Tom!" all exclaimed.

Molly hurried down-stairs, and the rest rushed to the stair-landing,
where, in a moment, they received, not Tom, but a large, square basket
that emitted a very fragrant smell of roasted fowl, in the arms of the
returning Molly. Once in the room, the lid