"I declare to goodness," murmured Susan, on the other side,
"there's so much to look at I can't scarcely eat nothin!"

"Bet yer life I can!" said Peter, who had kept one servant busily
employed ever since he sat down; for, luckily, no one was asked
by Uncle Jack whether he would have a second helping, but the
dishes were quietly passed under their noses, and not a single
Ruggles refused anything that was offered him, even unto the
seventh time. Then, when Carol and Uncle Jack perceived that
more turkey was a physical impossibility, the meats were taken
off and the dessert was brought in--a dessert that would have
frightened a strong man after such a dinner as had preceded it.
Not so the Ruggleses--for a strong man is nothing to a small
boy--and they kindled to the dessert as if the turkey had been a
dream and the six vegetables an optical delusion. There was
plum-pudding, mince-pie, and ice-cream, and there were nuts, and
raisins, and oranges. Kitty chose ice-cream, explaining that
she knew it "by sight," but hadn't never tasted none; but all the
rest took the entire variety, without any regard to consequences.

"My dear child," whispered Uncle Jack, as he took Carol an
orange, "there is no doubt about the necessity of this feast, but
I do advise you after this to have them twice a year, or
quarterly, perhaps, for the way they eat is positively dangerous;
I assure you I tremble for that terrible Peoria. I'm going to
run races with her after dinner."

"Never mind," laughed Carol, "let them eat for once; it does my
heart good to see them, and they shall come oftener next year."