She held an open Mason jar under Amos’ nose.

“Mince meat!” he exclaimed.  “Why, Lizzie, where’d you get the makings?”

“Oh, a bit here and a bit there for the last two months.  Ain’t it grand?” offering a smell to each of the children, who sniffed ecstatically.

When the baby was safely asleep, Lydia appeared with two stockings which she hung on chair backs by the stove in the living-room.

“I’m putting them up to hold the candy,” she explained to her father, suggestively.

He rose obediently and produced half a dozen oranges and a bag of candy.

“Oh, that’s gorgeous,” cried Lydia, whose spirits to-night were not to be quenched.  She brought in the doll house.

“See, Daddy,” she said, with the pride of the master builder.  “I colored it with walnut juice.  And I found the wall paper in the attic.”

Amos got down on his knees and examined the tiny rooms and the cigar box furniture.  He chuckled delightedly.  “I swan,” he said, “if Patience doesn’t want it you can give it to me!”

“I’m going to let Lizzie put the candy in the stockings,” mused Lydia, “then I’ll have that to look forward to.  I’m going to bed right now, so morning will come sooner.”

Alone with the stockings, into which Lizzie put the candy and oranges, Amos sat long staring at the base burner.  Without, the moon sailed high.  Wood snapping in the intense cold was the only sound on the wonder of the night.  Something of the urgent joy and beauty of the Eve touched Amos, for he finally rose and said,

“Well, I’ve got two fine children, anyhow.”  Then he filled up the stoves for the night and went to bed.

CHAPTER IV

THE RAVISHED NEST

“The young pine bends to the storm.  The old pine breaks.”—­The Murmuring Pine.

It would be difficult to say which enjoyed the doll house more, Lydia or Patience.  It would be difficult to say which one was the more touched, Lizzie or Amos by the package each found on the breakfast table.  Amos unwrapped his to find therein a pipe tray fashioned from cigar box wood and stained with Lydia’s walnut dye.  Lizzie’s gift was a flat black pin-cushion, with “Lizzie, with love from Lydia,” embroidered crazily on it in red.  Florence Dombey showed no emotion 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.