over her gift, a string of red beads that had a curious resemblance to
asparagus seed-pods, but she wore them gracefully and stared round-eyed
at all the festivities. Lydia and Patience each wore pinned to her
dress a cotton handkerchief, Lizzie's gift.

John Levine appeared at noon, laden like a pack horse. This was his
great opportunity during the year to do things for the Dudley children
and he took full advantage of the moment. Books for Lydia, little toys
for the baby, a pipe for Amos, a woolen dress pattern for Lizzie, a
blue sailor suit for Lydia, a fur hood for Patience.

John's thin, sallow face glowed, his black eyes gleamed as he watched
the children unwrap the packages. In the midst of the excitement,
Lydia shrieked.

"My ducks! My ducks!" and bolted for the kitchen.

"The pie!" cried Lizzie, panting after her.

"Don't tell me they're spoiled!" groaned Amos, as with John and the
baby, he followed into the kitchen.

"Safe!" shouted Lydia, on her knees before the oven. "Just the pope's
nose is scorched! The pie is perfect."

"Let's eat before anything else happens," said Amos, nervously.

"Lord!" said John Levine, "who'd miss spending Christmas where there
are children? I'd a gotten out here to-day if I'd had to come
barefooted."