Afternoon tea was not an habitual function, but was rather a movable feast, served in the nursery whenever especially desired by the little folk. To-day it was set out on a delightful little round table drawn close to the fire of cannel coal that snapped and cracked cheerfully, and furnished forth with all the delicious china of wonderful Dutch designs that mamma had brought home on her last trip to London. From such china, she had explained, do the little English children sip the afternoon tea, that is with them such an important function.
Dearly Sally loved to drink from the oddly shaped cups, watching anxiously as the warm liquid descended for the gradual appearance of the fanciful little figures that lined the inside as well as the outside with a quaint fresco.
It was so delightful to see first the top of the big, stiffly starched white linen headdresses, and then, after a rather meditative swallow, the wide flat linen collar, and then after a succession of rather hasty swallows, for things were getting too interesting to linger, the funny short blouses, the big white aprons and balloon-like skirts. And down near the bottom where it was nearly time to find the whole spoonful of sugar, nicely melted and most delectable by now, the queer, clumsy wooden shoes. Sally wondered how they felt and if one could really dance in them as these pictured girls were dancing, holding up their voluminous skirts and showing the stiff white petticoats underneath.
There were queer, wooden-looking boys, too, dancing as partners to the girls, in high, brimless black hats, very short waisted blouses and very full trousers gathered in at the ankle, and the wooden shoes, of course. And such a conglomeration of colors, red, purple, blue, pink and orange, and under their feet the very greenest of grass, while for a background a thin strip of pale blue river meandered serenely through the picture and beyond it a hazy purple perspective, the chief features of which appeared to be wind mills. An intensely blue sky streaked with primrose completed the picture.
Sally considered the whole as the most exquisite bit of coloring she had ever seen. Now she was seated luxuriously finishing her second relay of tea, having twice enjoyed the unfolding of the fascinating panorama within the cups. Opposite her was Bob, while on either side sat Rags and Rough House, who were always honored guests at these impromptu functions, licking their chops over their savory share in the feast. Tim, as a rule, also joined in the festivities, being very fond of crisp biscuit, but this afternoon he had taken himself off for reasons all his own, and as he often made little trips to the park where he greatly enjoyed roosting on some convenient bough and chatting with Chip nobody felt any anxiety on the ground of his non-appearance.
Presently when tea was finished and nurse came to take away the tray, the children hastened downstairs to put the finishing touches to their preparations for the evening’s fun.
In the kitchen they found awaiting them a row of big pumpkins, and out of each one Bob had fashioned a jack-o’-lantern with great glaring eyes and a mouth full of grinning teeth. Hideous they were as the candles were lit and placed inside each one.
Every year Sally went through the same ceremony and every year she felt in duty bound, and as a tribute to Bob’s genius, to shriek and cling to cook, as the whole goblin crew stood glaring and blinking, calling forth a chorus of indignant protests from the dogs, who considered that they had borne a great deal and indeed quite too much from the Teddy bears, without having such monsters added to the family circle.
Dinner was a rather unceremonious meal that night, for everyone was anxious to be through with it and cook was given scarcely time to dispose of the dishes before an hilarious throng, reinforced by a number of the near neighbors, invaded the kitchen.