"You'll see the boys don't forget to decorate Tommy, won't you?" he asked, eagerly. Jabez could not hear much of this, but he got the word Tommy, and nodded.
The three old men saluted silently, and when Reuben had put on his nightcap he found that they had all gone. Only Patience was in the room, standing by the jonquils, in her blue gingham dress and white apron.
"Tired?" she asked, comfortably. "I've mixed you up an egg-nog. Think you could take it?"
"They didn't stay long," complained the old man. "It don't seem to amount to much, does it?"
"You've punched your pillows all to pudding-stones," observed Patience Oak. "Let me fix 'em a little."
"I won't be fussed over!" cried Reuben, angrily. He gave one of his pillows a pettish push, and it went half across the room. Patience picked it up without remark. Reuben Oak held out a contrite hand.
"Peter, come here!" he commanded. Patience, with her maternal smile, obeyed.
"You stay, Peter, anyhow. Folks don't amount to anything. It's you, Peter."
