BIRDS' NEST, December 17, 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. Mamma 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 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 yer spread up the beds, so't I can git ter cuttin' out Larry's new
suit? I ain't satisfied with his clo'es, an' I thought in the night of a
way to make him a dress out o' my old red plaid shawl--kind o' Scotch
style, yer know, with the fringe 't the bottom.--Eily, you go find the
comb and take the snarls out the fringe, that's a lady! You little young
ones clear out from under foot! Clem, you and Con hop into bed with
Larry while I wash yer underflannins; 'twon't take long to dry
'em.--Yes, I know it's bothersome, buy yer can't go int' s'ciety 'thout
takin' some trouble, 'n' anyhow I couldn't git round to 'em last
night.--Sarah Maud, I think 'twould be perfeckly han'som' if you ripped
them brass buttons off yer uncle's _po_liceman's coat 'n' sewed 'em in a
row up the front o' yer green skirt. Susan, you must iron out yours 'n'
Kitty's apurns; 'n' there, I come mighty near forgettin' Peory's
stockin's! I counted the whole lot last night when I was washin' of 'em,
'n' there ain't but nineteen anyhow yer fix 'em, 'n' no nine pairs mates
nohow; 'n' I ain't goin' ter have my childern wear odd stockin's to a
dinner-comp'ny, fetched up as I was!--Eily, can't you run out and ask
Mis' Cullen ter lend me a pair o' stockin's for Peory, 'n' tell her if
she will, Peory'll give Jim half her candy when she gets home. Won't
yer, Peory?"

Peoria was young and greedy, and thought the remedy so out of all
proportion to the disease, that she s