little almond cakes. The fun waxed fast and furious; and Lieutenant
Worthington, coming in with his hands full of parcels for the
Christmas-tree, was just in time to hear Katy remark in a strong County
Kerry brogue,--

"Och, thin indade, Miss Amy, and it's no more cake you'll be getting out
of me the night. That's four pieces you've ate, and it's little slape
your poor mother'll git with you a tossin' and tumblin' forenenst her
all night long because of your big appetite."

"Oh, Miss Katy, talk Irish some more!" cried the delighted children.

"Is it Irish you'd be afther having me talk, when it's me own langwidge,
and sorrow a bit of another do I know?" demanded Katy. Then she caught
sight of the new arrival and stopped short with a blush and a laugh.

"Come in, Mr. Worthington," she said; "we're at supper, as you see, and
I am acting as waitress."

"Oh, Uncle Ned, please go away," pleaded Amy, "or Katy will be polite,
and not talk Irish any more."

"Indade, and the less ye say about politeness the betther, when ye're
afther ordering the jantleman out of the room in that fashion!" said the
waitress. Then she pulled off her cap and untied her apron.

"Now for the Christmas-tree," she said.

It was a very little tree, but it bore some remarkable fruits; for in
addition to the "tiny toys and candles fit for Lilliput," various