Merrythought looked and listened with all his might.
‘I must know what is in that oven,’ thought he again. ‘It doesn’t smell like turkey to me.’
Here Merrythought sniffed vigorously all along the window-sill. He was becoming almost as excited as the children themselves.
‘I will know their names soon,’ said he, smiling to see the seven children sniff and clap their hands and jump about. ‘That oldest girl is named Belinda, for the other children are always calling out, “Oh, Belinda, wrap me up! Oh, Belinda, do sniff over here!” She seems to take care of them. I wonder where their own mother is.’
Merrythought rubbed the steam of his breath off the window and peered in again.
‘The littlest boy with freckles is called Tom, and the one with curls and her thumb in her mouth is Matilda, and the baby is Polly, I know. I think those two boys holding hands and giggling are called Danny and Bill. And the one with the pigtails is named Ann Mary, for her two grandmothers, I suppose. I wonder when they will open that oven door and take out whatever is inside.’
The children were wondering this, too.
‘Oh, Belinda, do look in the oven! Oh, Belinda, do see if they are not done! Oh, Belinda, we can’t wait a minute longer!’
Belinda laughed at them and shook her head.