"He wasn't old, Joe. And in my day they never learned grammar."
"Oh, tell us about the good old times!" and Hal's head was laid in Granny's lap.
The children were never tired of hearing these tales. Days when Granny was young were like enchantment. She remembered some real witch stories, that she was sure were true; and weddings, quiltings, husking-bees, and apple-parings were full of interest. How they went out sleigh-riding, and had a dance; and how once Granny and her lover, sitting on the back seat, were jolted out, seat and all, while the horses went skimming along at a pace equal to Tam O'Shanter's. And how they had to go to a neighboring cottage, and stay ever so long before they were missed.
"There'll never be such times again," Joe would declare solemnly.
Florence would breath a little sigh, and wonder if she could ever attain to beaux and merriment, and if any one would ever quarrel about dancing with her. How happy Granny must have been!
Dot had a dreadful cold, and Granny an attack of rheumatism; but they both recovered before Christmas. Every one counted so much on this holiday. All were making mysterious preparations. Joe and Hal and Florence had their heads together; and then it was Granny and Florence, or Granny and Hal.
"I don't dare to stir out," said Joe lugubriously, "lest you may say something that I shall not hear."
Hal killed three fine young geese. Two were disposed of for a dollar apiece, and the third he brought to the kitchen in triumph.
"There's our Christmas dinner, and a beauty too!" he announced.