And nothing better it is, after a weary twenty minutes’ wait. The little girls’ faces fall greatly when the harassed-looking woman appears with a tray that contains nothing more than a dish of rather burnt-looking chops, and a plate loaded with potatoes. But they brighten when the mother requests that instead of one large one, four little tea-pots shall be brought, so that each may pour out for herself.
For pudding, they have hastily stewed prunes, a box of figs, plenty of bread-and-butter, and strawberry-jam. And so hungry has the chill air made them, they are surprised to find they have greatly enjoyed their Christmas dinner.
They go back to the boarding-house early in the afternoon. There are no fires in sitting-room or dining-room, so they betake themselves to their bedroom and light the gas, and cuddle close together and talk of Australia.
And one more Christmas Day is a thing of the past.
[124]
]CHAPTER XI
‘GOING DOWN TO THE SEA IN SHIPS’
“Phyl,” said an urgent whisper very early one morning—“oh, Phyl, do wake up, you don’t know what you’re missing.”
Phyl opened a very sleepy pair of eyes and found Dolly’s face at a curious distance above her. A red swollen face it was—almost a purple in fact
“Your eyes ’ll drop out in a minute,” was the elder sister’s remark, delivered sleepily. And indeed there seemed some danger of that horrible accident happening, for Dolly had leaned her body so far out of her top bunk that her head was not very far from Phyl’s.
“Well, wake up then,” she said.
“You come down here,” Phyl said, her eyes fast shut again.