hey were good
old times, for the times now are a great deal better."

"Yes, indeed," said Prudy.

"Except one thing," added grandma, looking at Dotty, who was snapping the
tongs together. "Children had more to do in my day than they have now."

Dotty blushed.

"Grandma," said she, "I'm having a playtime, you know, 'cause there can't
anybody stop to fix my work. But mother says after the holidays I'm going
to have a stint every day."

"That's right, dear. Now thee may run down and get me a skein of red yarn
thee will find on the top shelf in the nursery closet."

CHAPTER XI.

THE CRYSTAL WEDDING.

As the crystal wedding was to take place on the twenty-fourth, the
Christmas tree was deferred till the night after, and was not looked
forward too by the children as anything very important. They had had a
tree, a Kris Kringle, or something of the sort, every year since they
could remember; but a wedding was a rare event, and to be a bridesmaid
was as great an honor, Dotty thought, as could be conferred on any
little girl.

It was intended that everything should be as much as possible like the
original wedding. Mrs. Parlin was to wear the same dove-colored silk and
bridal veil she had worn then, and Mr. Parlin the same coat and white
vest, though they were decidedly out of fashion by this time. Dotty was
resplendent in a white dress with a long sash, a gold necklace of her
aunt Eastman's, and a pair of white kid slippers. Johnny was to be
groomsman. He was a boy who was always startling his friends with some
new idea, and this time he had "borrowed" a silver bouquet-holder out of
his mother's drawer, and filled it with the loveliest greenhouse flowers.

Until Dotty saw this, she had been happy; but the thought of standing up
with a boy who held such a beautiful toy, while her own little hands
would be empty--this was too much.

"Johnny Eastman," said she, with a trembling voice, "how do you think it
will look to be holding flowers up to your nose when the minister's
a-praying? I'd be so 'shamed, so 'shamed, Johnny Eastman!"

"You want the bouquet-holder yourself, you know you do," said Johnny;
"you want everything you see; and if folks don't give right up to you,
then there's a fuss."

"O, Johnny Eastman, I'm a girl, and that's the only reason why I want the
bouquet-holder! If I was a boy, do you s'pose I'd touch such a thing? But
I can't wear flowers in the button-holes of my coat--now can I?"

The c