th shaking fingers she kindled the wood fire, and had the kettle
boiling and the griddle heated for the cakes, when her mother came out
of the bedroom, asking her what had wakened her so early, and telling
her to dress the baby while she finished getting the breakfast ready.

Debby willingly brought the screaming baby out to the fire, where she
washed and dressed him, soothing him with many motherly little airs. Sam
and Jim ran down-stairs to hover over the red-hot stove; the father came
in, bringing the pail of milk, stamping his feet, his beard white with
his frozen breath; then they all sat down to breakfast by candle-light,
and no one would have supposed, from their conversation, that they had
ever heard of Christmas-day.

Immediately after breakfast Mr. Blanchard hurried away to dispose of his
turkeys, taking the boys with him; Mrs. Blanchard heated the brick oven
preparatory to a morning's baking, and Debby flew about as busily as the
bee she represented, washing dishes, making beds, peeling vegetables,
and tending the baby, lightening her labor with the thought of the money
her father might possibly give her.

When it was time for him to return, she determined to keep in sight, as
a kind of hint that some of the money should be given to her; not that
she would ask him for it,--her askings were only for favors to the boys,
made in much fear and inward shrinking; but she would just wait around
and remind him by her presence that she had helped pick the turkeys.

But, with no understanding of the feverish anxiety that filled the heart
of the little maiden who was moving briskly about the pleasant kitchen
dishing up the dinner, Mr. Blanchard threw open the door with a chuckle.
"Took every one of them and paid the money down," he announced, coming
to the fire. "Got more than I expected, too, for his scales made them
weigh more than ours, so I gained just thirty cents."

Debby thought that her heart stopped beating while she stood bewildered
in the middle of the floor with a dish of potatoes in her hand, waiting
to hear her father say that the extra money should be hers; but he
merely asked if dinner were ready, and why she moved so slowly; guessed
that sitting up so late made her lazy.

All her castles built of ice-cream, candy, pin-cushions, and fancy
needle-books, fell to the ground with a crash as she set the dish on the
table, leaving her with no appetite for dinner, not even for the first
pumpkin-pie of the