Darby scornfully. He did not mean to be scornful.
He had heard Frank saying the same words in the same tone, and thought
it signified approval.

Cousin Myra had a talk with Father and Mother Osborne that night, and
found them heartily in sympathy with her plans.

For the next week the Osbornes were agog with excitement and interest.
At first Cousin Myra made the suggestions, but their enthusiasm soon
outstripped her, and they thought out things for themselves. Never did
a week pass so quickly. And the Osbornes had never had such fun,
either.

Christmas morning there was not a single present given or received at
"The Firs" except those which Cousin Myra and Mr. and Mrs. Osborne
gave to each other. The junior Osbornes had asked that the money which
their parents had planned to spend in presents for them be given to
them the previous week; and given it was, without a word.

The uncles and aunts arrived in due time, but not with them was the
junior Osbornes' concern. They were the guests of Mr. and Mrs.
Osborne. The junior Osbornes were having a Christmas dinner party of
their own. In the small dining room a table was spread and loaded with
good things. Ida and the twins cooked that dinner all by themselves.
To be sure, Cousin Myra had helped some, and Frank and Darby had
stoned all the raisins and helped pull the home-made candy; and all
together they had decorated the small dining room royally with
Christmas greens.

Then their guests came. First, all the little Rolands from the Hollow
arrived--seven in all, with very red, shining faces and not a word to
say for themselves, so shy were they. Then came a troop from French
Joe's--four black-eyed lads, who never knew what shyness meant. Frank
drove down to the village in the cutter and brought lame Sammy back
with him, and soon after the last guest arrived--little Tillie Mather,
who was Miss Rankin's "orphan 'sylum girl" from over the road.
Everybody knew that Miss Rankin never kept Christmas. She did not
believe in it, she said, but she did not prevent Tillie from going to
the Osbornes' dinner party.

Just at first the guests were a little stiff and unsocial; but they
soon got acquainted, and so jolly was Cousin Myra--who had her dinner
with the children in preference to the grown-ups--and so friendly the
junior Osbornes, that all stiffness vanished. What a merry dinner it
was! What peals of laughter went up, reaching to the big dining room
across the hall, where th