in the light of a hundred wax-candles,
was a collation fit for Cinderella and all her royal court. I shall not
attempt to describe it, for fear of forgetting to name some of the good
things. Imagine what you will, and I do believe there was something just
like it, or quite as good, upon that delightful table, so beautiful with
its airy, fairy-like structures of candied fruits, frostings, and
flowers; its jagged rock of ice where chickens and turtles, made of
ice-cream, were resting on every peak and cranny; its gold-tinted
jellies, and its snowy temples. Soon, fairy-work and temple yielded to
ruthless boys, who crowded around with genteel eagerness to serve the
girls with platefuls of delicacies, quite ignoring the rolling eye-balls
of two little colored gentlemen who had been sent up from town with the
feast, and who had fully expected to do the honors. Meanwhile Liddy, in
black silk gown and the Swiss muslin apron which Dorry had bought for
her in the city, was looking after the youngest guests, resolved that
the little dears should not disgrace her motherly care by eating too
much, or by taking the wrong things.

"Not that anything on that table could hurt a chicken," she said softly
to Charity Cora, as she gave a bit of sponge-cake and a saucer of
_blanc-mange_ to little Isabel, "Mr. George and I looked out for that;
but their dear little stomachs are so risky, you know, one can't be too
careful. That's the reason we were so particular to serve out sandwiches
and substantials early in the day, you know. But sakes! there's that
molasses candy! I can't help worrying about it."

Charity Cora made no reply beyond a pleasant nod, for, in truth,
conversation had no charms for her just then. If Donald had found you,
hungry reader, modestly hidden in a corner, and with a masterly bow had
handed you that well-laden plate, would you have felt like talking to
Liddy?

But Liddy didn't mind. She was too happy with her own thoughts to notice
trifles. Besides, Sailor Jack just at that moment came to lay a fresh
log on the hall fire, and that gave her an opportunity to ask him if he
ever had seen young folks "having a delighteder time."

"_Never_, Mistress Blum! Never!" was his emphatic, all-sufficient
response.

At this very moment, Gory Danby, quite unconscious of the feast up
stairs, was having his own private table in the kitchen. Having grown
hungry for his usual supper of bread and milk, he had stolen in upon
Norah and