pecial talent.

Pies and puddings, cakes and tarts, everything that could be got ready
in advance, were being drawn from the ovens and heaped on awaiting
shelves, while a dozen hands busied themselves in getting ready the
turkey and game and the other essentials of the coming feast that had to
wait till the next day for their turn at the heated ovens.

As the day moved on the excitement grew. Visitors were expected: the
boys from college with their invited chums; sons and grandsons, aunts
and cousins, and invited guests, from near and far. And not only these,
but "hired out" servants from neighboring towns, whose terms were fixed
from New Year to Christmas, so that they could spend the holiday week at
home, made their appearance and were greeted with as much hilarious
welcome in the cabins as were the white guests in the mansion. In the
manor house itself they were welcomed like home-coming members of the
family, as, already wearing their presents of new winter clothes, they
came to pay their "respecs to massa and mistis."

As the day went on the carriages were sent to the railroad station for
the expected visitors, old and young, and a growing impatience testified
to the warmth of welcome with which their arrival would be greeted. They
are late--to be late seems a fixed feature of the situation, especially
when the roads are heavy with unwonted snow. Night has fallen, the stars
are out in the skies, before the listening ears on the porch first catch
the distant creak of wheels and axles. The glow of the wood-fires on the
hearths and of candles on table and mantel is shining out far over the
snow when at length the carriages come in sight, laden outside and in
with trunks and passengers, whose cheery voices and gay calls have
already heralded their approach.

What a time there is when they arrive, the boys and girls tumbling and
leaping out and flying up the steps, to be met with warm embraces or
genial welcomes; the elders coming more sedately, to be received with
earnest handclasps and cordial greetings, Never was there a happier man
than the old major when he saw his house filled with guests, and bade
the strangers welcome with a dignified, but earnest, courtesy. But when
the younger comers stormed him, with their glad shouts of "uncle" or
"grandpa" or other titles of relationship, and their jovial echo of
"Merry Christmas," the warm-hearted old fellow seemed fairly transformed
into a boy again. Guest as I was, I