and stirring about the house, for it was a gala day
in the family. Gala day! I should think so! Were not her nine
"childern" invited to a dinner-party at the great house, and weren't
they going to sit down free and equal with the mightiest in the land?
She had been preparing for this grand occasion ever since the receipt
of the invitation, which, by the way, had been speedily enshrined in an
old photograph frame and hung under the looking-glass in the most
prominent place in the kitchen, where it stared the occasional visitor
directly in the eye, and made him pale with envy:

"BIRDS' NEST, Dec. 17th, 188-.

DEAR MRS. RUGGLES,--

I am going to have a dinner-party on Christmas day, and would like to
have all your children come. I want them every one, please, from Sarah
Maud to Baby Larry. Mama says dinner will be at half-past five, and
the Christmas tree at seven; so you may expect them home at nine
o'clock. Wishing you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, I am,
yours truly,

CAROL BIRD."

Breakfast was on the table promptly at seven o'clock, and there was
very little of it, too; for it was an excellent day for short rations,
though Mrs. Ruggles heaved a sigh as she reflected that even the boys,
with their India-rubber stomachs, would be just as hungry the day after
the dinner-party as if they had never had any at all.

As soon as the scanty meal was over, she announced the plan of the
campaign: "Now Susan, you an' Kitty wash up the dishes; an' Peter,
can't you spread up the beds, so't I can git ter cuttin' out Larry's
new suit? I ain't satisfied with his close, an' I thought in the night
of a way to make him a dress out of my old plaid shawl--kind o' Scotch
style, yer know. You other boys clear out from under foot! Clem, you
and Con hop into bed with Larry while I wash yer underflannins; 'twont
take long to dry 'em. Sarah Maud, I think 'twould be perfeckly han'som
if you ripped them brass buttons off yer uncle's policeman's coat an'
sewed 'em in a row up the front o' yer green skirt. Susan, you must
iron out yours an' Kitty's apurns; an' there, I came mighty near
forgettin' Peory's stockin's! I counted the whole lot last night when
I was washin' of 'em, an' there ain't but nineteen anyhow yer fix 'em,
an' no nine pairs mates nohow; an' I ain't goin' ter have my childern
wear odd stockin's to a dinner-comp'ny, brought up as I was!