"Will I open it for yez, miss?" he asked.
"Indeed you will, Mike. Have you a hammer or something of that kind with you?"
"Have I?" Mike chuckled. "I'll not be thravelin' widout it these days whin the boxes do be cumin' in so stiddy."
Janet and Edna crouched down to watch the operation of opening the box, and when the last nail had been eased out, and the lid was lifted, they gave a sigh of satisfaction.
"I just want to gloat one minute before we unpack it," said Janet. "Doesn't it look moreish? Thank you, Mike. If there's a turkey, you shall have a drumstick."
Mike gathered himself together, slipped his hammer in his pocket and went out smiling. He was much interested in these boxes.
"I do hope nothing is broken," said Janet, carefully lifting the cloth which was neatly tucked around the sides. "Ah, mother has filled in the chinks with nuts and apples. These are my favorite apples. I know just the tree on which they grew. I can see Dicky down there gathering them. What's next? Oh, a lovely, a perfectly lovely chocolate cake. But Ted, the cloth around it is a little damp. I am afraid something has spilled. Yes, there is a bottle broken, a bottle of olives. Goodness, I hope the brine hasn't oozed over everything. Fortunately the cake was on top and the box can't have been tipped much from the looks of things."
"There is a turkey!" cried Teddy. "I see its legs sticking out."
"So there is, and it's a beauty. My, doesn't it look good? My mouth waters so that I can hardly wait to taste it. A lot of the little cakes, Ted, are soaked with the brine; that's too bad. Here is a glass of jelly, and what's this? Oh, my dear, it's some of mother's lovely conserves that she is so chary of. Here is a big tin can. Mother certainly does know how to pack, if the olive jar did get broken, for there is scarcely anything hurt. This, Ted, is a can of my dear Maryland biscuits, and a roll of home-made butter. There, I think that was a fine box. What a feast we will have with that turkey. I could eat some this blessed minute. Here, give me my penknife, the big blade, please. I am going to cut off some. Which will you have, a wing or a log?"
"I don't care."