ldren.

CHAPTER X

A MERRY CHRISTMAS

George Underhill came down and made a nice long visit. He felt he liked
his own home people a little the best, but his heart was still set on
farming. Thanksgiving came after a lovely Indian summer, such as one
rarely sees now. Then each State appointed its own Thanksgiving, and
there were people who boasted of partaking of three separate dinners.

After that it was cold. The little girl had a good warm cloak and hood
and mittens, and it was nothing to run to school. She studied and
played, and knew two pretty exercises on the piano. Jim and Benny Frank
grew like weeds. But Benny somehow "gave in" to the boys, and two or
three of the school bullies did torment him.

"I'd just give it to them!" declared Jim. "I wouldn't be put upon and
called baby and a mollycoddle and have that Perkins crowding me off the
line and losing marks. I'd give him such a right-hander his head would
hum like a swarm of bees."

It was not because Benny was afraid. But he was a peace-loving boy and
he thought fighting brutal and vulgar. His books were such a delight. He
liked to go in and talk to Mr. Theodore, as they all called the eldest
Whitney son. Mr. Theodore in his newspaper capacity had found out so
many queer things about old New York, they really called New York that
in early 1800. He had such wonderful portfolios of pictures, and nothing
in the Whitney house was too good to use.

Hanny often went in as well. And though Dele was such a harum-scarum
sort of girl, she was good to the children and found no end of
diversions for them. Nora was a curious, grave little thing, and her
large dark eyes in her small, sallow face looked almost uncanny. She
devoured fairy stories and knew many of the mythological gods and
goddesses. They had a beautiful big cat called Old Gray. It really
belonged to Mr. Theodore, but Nora played with it and tended it, and
dressed it up in caps and gowns and shawls and carried it around. It
certainly was a lovely tempered cat. Hanny was divided in her affection
between the Deans' dolls and Nora's cat. The play-house was too cold to
use now, and Mrs. Dean objected to having it all moved down to her
sewing-room. But Mr. Theodore's room had a delightful grate, a big old
lounge, a generous centre-table where the girls used to play house
under the cover, and such piles of books everywhere, so many pictures on
the wall, such curious pipes and swords and trophies from d