"I'm very glad to see you," replied China. "I am living a wretched life."
"Dear me, don't talk like that!" exclaimed the good lady, much annoyed at all this mourning and fault-finding.
"I guess you'd talk worse than that if you had been cut down, torn to pieces, burnt up, and boxed as I have been. Don't you see that there is hardly anything left of me? As likely as not to-morrow they'll set to work and do something else to me,—make me smaller yet, or drive me out of the house. I can't tell what a day will bring forth. And just look at the dishes. Did you ever see such a lot of nicked, broken, mismatched, cracked, blackened, ugly old ware as they keep on my shelves? It makes me sick. I wish you'd come back." All this time China had been talking in a most despondent tone, giving a fresh shake of discontent to the curious assortment of ware displayed on the shelves. It made the Judge's wife nervous. She didn't like it. Neither did Ruth. It was not what they expected. Such talk was hardly in keeping with Christmas Eve.
"China, you just go right out-doors and wait in the cold," said Ruth. "I'm going to call 'Panama.' That, you know, is the closet that connects father's study right over this room with the bedroom behind it. Come, Panama," she cried. There was a great rustling of papers, and dust filled the room as Panama entered.
"What does this mean?" inquired Mrs. "Judge," who began to sneeze and feel very thirsty.
"Why, this is the closet where father keeps his sermons. I think they must rustle and make so much noise because they are dry."
"Good-evening," said the lady in the clock as she bowed.
"Good-evening," replied Panama. "It's a long time since we've seen you, Madam. Have you come back to stay?" And one could detect anxiety in the manner and speech.
"Oh, no! We are here just for the evening. We thought it would be pleasant to step down and out for a little while. We were in the portraits on the east parlor wall, you remember. When the wind gets in the east we shall be obliged to go back." Then Panama began to cry; and as fast as he cried he drank up his tears.
"I don't see what's got into the closets to make them talk so and act so!" exclaimed Ruth. "They just seem bent on being disagreeable to-night. And I thought we'd have such a nice time with them. They're a discontented and complaining lot. I'm going to call 'Leghorn.'"