"Oh, Father!" cried Marjorie. "How could you do that? Do you like wax candles?"
"These candles aren't exactly wax," said her father, "and I must say mine tasted very good."
Molly's bright black eyes snapped.
"If Mr. Maynard can eat candles, so can I!" she declared, and, blowing out the flame, she bit off the end of her own candle.
"It is good," she said, as she munched it. "I like candles, too."
So then they all tried eating candles. Marjorie tasted hers carefully, and then took a larger bite.
"Why, it's apple!" she cried. And so it was. The "candles" had been cut with an apple-corer, and the "wicks" were bits of almond cut the right shape and stuck in the top of the candle. The oil in the nut causes it to burn for a few moments, and the whole affair looks just like a real candle.
The mince pies were followed by ice-cream, and that by fruits and candies, and then the feast was over, but every one carried away the jolly little souvenirs to keep as mementoes of the occasion. Skating was the order of the afternoon.
Mr. Maynard went with the older children, while Mrs. Maynard and Rosy Posy amused themselves at home.
Kitty couldn't skate very well, but all the others were fairly good skaters, and soon they were gliding over the ice, while Mr. Maynard pushed Kitty in a sliding chair. She thought she had the most fun of all, but the others preferred their own feet to a chair, and skated tirelessly around the lake, not at all dismayed by somewhat frequent upsets and tumbledowns.