Day.

A WESTERN CHRISTMAS IN THE OLD DAYS.

BY MRS. W. H. CORNING.

Christmas week there was no school, but such a succession of dining
days, and visiting days, and day parties, and night parties, that Fanny,
who looked forward to the week as a season of rest, thought that the
regular routine of school duties would be less fatiguing.

Christmas at La Belle Prairie was the one jubilee of the year, something
to be talked about for six months beforehand, and to be remembered as
long after. It was a time of feasting and recreation for both master and
servant. Days before, preparations commenced in the kitchen. Various
smells issued from thence--savory smells of boiled, baked, and roasted
meats; and sweet delicious smells of warm pastry and steaming cakes.
Aunt Tibby was rolling pie-crust or stirring cake all day long, and the
chopping of sausage-meat, the pounding of spices, and the beating of
eggs were constantly heard. Everything was carried on with the greatest
secrecy. The children were all kept out of the kitchen, and when
"somefin' good" was to be transferred therefrom to Miss Car'line's
store-room, Aunt Tibby came sailing in, holding it high above the reach
of the curious little heads.

"I don't care," said Cal. "There's six pound-cakes all in a row on the
store-room shelf. I see 'em when ma opened the door; and Marthy says one
of 'em got currants in it, and there's a little shoat thar roasted
whole. O! how I wish Christmas was come."

Coming suddenly upon Maud one day, Fanny found her with her apron half
full of bran, while her fingers were busily at work upon a few pieces of
faded silk. Maud tried to hide them at first, but finding by Fanny's
question of "What is it, Maud?" that it was too late, she had looked up
with a tired, flushed face and said:

"Miss Fanny, don't you tell now! will you? I'm makin' a pin-cushion for
Aunt Phoebe, but it won't come square, all I can do. It acts awfully."

"Let me see what the trouble is," said Fanny, and sitting down, she
examined the poor cushion; which, indeed, under Maud's hands, was not
soon likely to come into shape.

"You see," said Maud, "I want to give aunty a Christmas gift, and I
thought a cushion would be so nice, 'cause her old one that she wears
pinned to her waist, you know, has burst a great hole, and the bran
keeps tumbling out. I'm going to make her a right nice one, only I wish
'twas brighter, 'cause aunty likes red, and yellow, and all them,