Solomon Crow's Christmas Pockets and Other Tales Part 5

"An' Buddy'll bring in a lot of gray moss and _latanier_ to dec'rate with, an'--"

"An' us'll wait on the table!"

"Yes, us'll wait on the table!" cried the twins.

"But," added Felix in a moment, "you mus'n't invite Miss Penny, Meg, 'cause if you do F'lissy an' me 'll be thest sh.o.r.e to disgrace the party a-laughin'. She looks thest ezzac'ly like a canary-bird, an' Buddy has tooken her off till we thest die a-laughin' every time we see her. I think she's raised canaries till she's a sort o' half-canary herself.

Don't let's invite her, Sisty."

"And don't you think Miss Penny would enjoy a slice of Christmas turkey as well as the rest of us, Felix?"

"No; I fink she ought to eat canary-seed and fish-bone," chirped in Dorothea.

Dorothea was only five, and this from her was so funny that even Meg laughed.

"An' Buddy says he knows she sleeps perched on the towel-rack, 'cause they ain't a sign of a bed in her room."

The three youngest were fairly choking with laughter now. But the older ones had soon grown quite serious in consulting about all the details of the matter, and even making out a conditional list of guests.

When they came to the fortune-teller, both Ethel and Conrad hesitated, but Meg, true to her first impulse, had soon put down opposition by a single argument.

"It seems to me she's the special one _to_ invite to a Christmas party like ours," she pleaded. "The lonesomer an' horrider they are, the more they belong, an' the more they'll enjoy it, too."

"Accordin' to that," said Conrad, "the whole crowd ought to have a dizzy good time, for they're about as fine a job lot of lonesomes as I ever struck. And as for beauty! 'Vell, my y'ung vriends, how you was to-morrow?'" he continued, thrusting his thumbs into his armholes and strutting in imitation of the old Professor.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "'SHE OUGHT TO EAT CANARY-SEED AND FISH-BONE'"]

Meg was almost out of patience. "Do hush, Buddy, an' let's talk business. First of all, we have to put it to vote to see whether we _want_ to have the party or not."

"I ain't a-goin' to give my money to no such a ugly ol' party," cried Felix. "I want pretty little girls with curls an' wreafs on to my party."

"An' me, too. I want a heap o' pretty little girls with curls an' wreafs on--_to my party_," echoed Felicie.

"An' I want a organ-grinder to the party that gets my half o' our picayunes," insisted Felix.

"Yas, us wants a organ-grinder--an' a monkey, too--hey, F'lix?"

"Yes, an' a monkey, too. Heap o' monkeys!"

Meg was indeed having a hard time of it.

"You see, Conrad"--the use of that name meant reproof from Meg--"you see, Conrad, this all comes from your makin' fun of everybody. But of course we can get an organ-grinder if the little ones want him."

Ethel still seemed somewhat doubtful about the whole affair. Ethel was in the high-school. She had a lofty bridge to her nose. She was fifteen, and she never left off her final g's as the others did. These are, no doubt, some of the reasons why she was regarded as a sort of superior person in the family. If it had not been for the prospect of painting the cards, and a certain feeling of benevolence in the matter, it would have been hard for her to agree to the party at all. As it was, her voice had a note of mild protest as she said:

"It's going to cost a good deal, Meg. How much money have we? Let's count up. I have a dollar and eighty-five cents."

"And I've got two dollars," said Meg.

"How is it you always save the most? I haven't saved but ninety cents."

Conrad spoke with a little real embarra.s.sment as he laid his little pile of coins upon the table.

"I reckon it's 'cause I've got a regular plan, Buddy. I save a dime out of every dollar I get all through the year. It's the best way. And how much have you ponies got?"

"We've got seventy cents together, an' we've been a-whiskerin' in our ears about it, too. We don't want our money put-ed in the dinner with the rest. We want to see what we are givin'."

"Well, suppose you buy the fruit. Seventy cents 'll get bananas and oranges enough for the whole party."

"An' us wants to buy 'em ourselfs, too--hey, F'lix?"

"Yes, us wants to buy 'm ourselfs, too."

"And so you shall. And now all in favor of the party hold up their right hands."

All hands went up.

"Contr'ry, no!" Meg continued.

"Contr'ry, no!" echoed the twins.

"Hush! You mus'n't say that. That's just what they say at votin's."

"Gee-man-tally! But you girls 're awfully mixed," Conrad howled, with laughter. "They don't have any 'contr'ry no's' when they vote by holdin'

up right hands. Besides, Dorothea held up her left hand, for I saw her."

"Which is quite correct, Mr. Smartie, since we all know that Dolly is left-handed. You meant to vote for the party, didn't you, dearie?" Meg added, turning to Dorothea.

For answer the little maid only bobbed her head, thrusting both hands behind her, as if afraid to trust them again.

"But I haven't got but thest a nickel," she ventured, presently. "F'lix says it'll buy salt."

"Salt!" said Conrad. "Well, I should smile! It would buy salt enough to pickle the whole party. Why, that little St. Johns woman goes out with a nickel an' lays in provisions. I've seen her do it."

"Shame on you, Buddy!"

"I'm not jokin', Meg. At least, I saw her buy a _quartie's_ worth o'

coffee and a _quartie's_ worth o' sugar, an' then ask for _lagniappe_ o'

salt. Ain't that layin' in provisions? She uses a cigar-box for her pantry, too."

"Well," she protested, seriously, "what of it, Conrad? It doesn't take much for one very little person. Now, then, the party is voted for; but there's one more thing to be done before it can be really decided. We must ask Momsy's permission, of course. And that is goin' to be hard, because I don't want her to know about it. She has to be out reportin'

festivals for the paper clear up to Christmas mornin', and if she knows about it, she'll worry over it. So I propose to ask her to let us give her a Christmas surprise, and not tell her what it is."

"And we know just what she'll say," Conrad interrupted; "she'll say, 'If you older children all agree upon anything, I'm sure it can't be very far wrong or foolish'--just as she did time we put up the stove in her room."

"Yes, I can hear her now," said Ethel. "But still we must _let_ her say it before we do a single thing, because, you know, _she mightn't_. An'

then where'd the party be?"

"It would be scattered around where it was last Christmas--where all the parties are that don't be," said Conrad. "They must be the ones we are always put down for, an' that's how we get left; eh, Sisty?"