ey all say that it
did no good, anyway, except to make poetry of. But Marathon! Nobody had
a chance to say a word about it except the Greeks themselves, and they
weren't going to allow that the Persians wiped up the floor with them,
were they? Why should they? And if Balaclava had happened then, those
Greek fellows would have told us that the Light Brigade carried the
Russian guns back with them across their saddles, wouldn't they? I say,
father!"

"What is it?" asked Overholt, looking up, for he had gone back to his
work and was absorbed in it.

"The boys are all beginning to talk about Christmas down at the school.
Now what are we going to do at Christmas? I've been wondering."

"So have I!" responded the man, laying down the screw-plate with which
he was about to cut a fine thread on the end of a small brass rod for
the tangent-balance. "I've been thinking about it a good deal to-day,
and I haven't decided on anything."

"Let's have turkey and cranberry sauce, anyway," said Newton
thoughtfully, for he had a practical mind. "And I suppose we can have
ice-cream if it freezes and we can get some ice. Snow does pretty well
if you pack it down tight enough with salt, and go on putting in more
when it melts. Barbara doesn't make ice-cream as well as they do in New
York. She puts in a lot of winter-green and too little cocoanut. But
it's not so bad. We can have it, can't we, father?"

"Oh yes. Turkey, cranberry sauce, and ice-cream. But that isn't a whole
Christmas!"

"I don't see what else you want, I'm sure," answered the boy
thoughtfully. "I mean if it's a big turkey and there's enough
ice-cream--cream-cakes, maybe. You get good cream-cakes at Bangs's, two
for five cents. They're not very big, but they're all right inside--all
gooey, you know. Can you think of anything else?"

"Not to eat!"

"Oh, well then, what's the matter with our Christmas? I can't see. No
school and heaps of good gobbles."

"Good what?" Overholt looked at the boy with an inquiring glance, and
then understood. "I see! Is that the proper word?"

"When there's lots, it is," answered Newton with conviction. "Of course,
there are all sorts of things I'd like to have, but it's no good
wishing you could lay Columbus's egg and hatch the American eagle, is
it?[Footnote: The writer acknowledges his indebtedness for this fact in
natural and national history to his aunt, Mrs. Julia Ward Howe, to whom
it was recently revealed in the course of making