Duncan should suddenly appear in the doorway, and
say:
"Now, boys, to-night will be Christmas Eve. You know in the heart of the
forest we can't get much in the way of entertainment, and I don't want
our young Jamaica friends to feel homesick for their beautiful, Southern
country to-night of all nights. I've racked my brains to think of some
amusement after supper this Christmas Eve, but I seem to have failed.
Can't you, Tom and Jerry, help me out?"
There was a brief silence; then, of course, the sweet busy mother spoke:
"Peter Ottertail and I have schemed together for that. I have invited
him to supper, and we are to have a roaring fire built here in the
kitchen, and Peter is to tell the four boys some Indian stories, while
you and I, father, finish the Christmas tree in the parlor. What do you
think of my idea?"
She need not have asked, for such a clamor of delight went up that her
own words were drowned.
"Excellent!" cried Mr. Duncan, when finally he could be heard.
"Excellent, for we don't want you young mischiefs in the parlor at all,
seeing your presents the day before; and the only one I know who could
keep you out is Peter.
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