Will Somers appeared in the dress of a revolutionary soldier, carrying on
his shoulder a musket that was a fire-lock, and slung at his side was a
powder-horn, while in his tinder-box were flint and steel. How many
battles this old Continental had been in, what victories he had won, and
what hardships he had endured! He was not slow to tell of them all.

The entertainment was voted a great success.

"There, Charles Pitt," declared Aunt Stanshy the next morning at the
breakfast-table, "I like that style of a club ever so much. It tells you
something."

"Yes," said Charlie, "I know a lot more than I did."

"I want you to have a good time in your club, but when it is all play and
nothing else, it aint just the thing."

"Yes, aunty," said the now matured and venerable Charlie. "And we're going
to have something else."

"What is it?"

He only winked and looked wise as an owl at midnight.

December was now hurrying away. The winter weeks followed one another
rapidly, and at last Charlie heard Mr. Walton say in church something
about a Christmas festival.

"Christmas is coming!" was Charlie's silent response.