y! How would you like to have a big ten-pound turkey piled on
top of you?" questioned Mary indignantly.

"Oh, James Frederick won't mind," Tim responded comfortably. "And
anyhow, he's got to do his bit toward making other people happy. As far
as I can see he isn't denying himself anything, for he couldn't eat a
turkey if it was set right under his nose. So it's his part to tote
home the parcels in his flivver; he seems to be the only member of the
family that has one."

Thus it was agreed and on the day before Christmas it would have done
one good to witness the cavalcade of McGregors issuing forth on their
altruistic pilgrimage. First went Mary, leading Nell by the hand; then
Carl with Martin's mitten firmly clutched in his. Next came Mrs.
McGregor with Tim, and bringing up at the rear was Uncle Frederick
wheeling his namesake, the baby. What a tour it was! Certainly there
never had been such a turkey as the one the reckless captain bought--a
turkey so plump of breast, so white of skin, so golden of claw! Why, it
was a king of birds! And then the shining coral of the cranberries, the
satin gleam of the onions, the warm brown of the potatoes! As for the
celery--its delicate green and faint canary tips were as good as a
bouquet of flowers. Just to view its crispness was to make the mouth
water. And the nuts, raisins, candy, oranges! Once in their vicinity
Captain Dillingham cast aside all caution and wildly purchased one
dainty after another. He seemed to have gone quite mad and it was not
until his sister very positively informed him that not another bundle
could be carried that he consented to be dragged away from the counters
of sweet-meats.

Then staggering beneath their load of whity-brown parcels, the family
hastened out to the baby carriage where Mary stood guarding James
Frederick.

"Put the turkey down near his feet," cried she excitedly, as she lifted
the baby in order to make more room. "The other things can be packed in
round him."

"But he'll be stifled!" objected Mrs. McGregor.

"Oh, no, he won't, Ma!" contradicted Tim. "He'll probably be uncomfortable.
Christmas comes but once a year, though, so he ought to be able to survive
being cramped."

"Oh, James Frederick is perfectly used to having his coupe turned into
an express wagon, Mother," Carl explained. "Don't worry about him.
Often he rides home from down-town buried a foot deep in bundles. All
that fusses me is whether the carriage will stand t