“We’re real lucky to have such weather,” said Talitha. “I don’t know how we would ever have managed with the table if we couldn’t have cleared things away. As it is there won’t be room enough for the children—”
“I’ll knock something together that’ll be nearer their size,” comforted Martin.
“Good boy,” smiled his sister, much relieved. “I was thinking of setting them in a row on the floor. That wouldn’t be very Christmas-y, would it? But a table of their own will pleasure them mightily.” Talitha hustled back into the cabin; there was an unusual amount of work for even her capable hands. Besides assisting in the preparation of so elaborate a meal, her belongings were to be made ready for her departure early on the morrow. It was too late in the season to risk further delay. Any day now, winter might rush upon the mountains with icy wind and sleet or a blinding snowstorm, making the rough roads altogether impassable.
“This air a weather breeder,” observed Sam Coyle pessimistically. “I’d feel a sight easier if you-uns hed a-started this mornin’.”
“An’ miss their Chris’mus turkey,” reproved his wife. “Jest be thankful hit air fine ’nough ter turn things out’n doors, ’though Tally ’lows now, hit would hev pleasured the comp’ny more ter hev set the table ’long of them pines.”
“Hit air not so much ’count whar hit’s set as what’s set on hit,” retorted Sam jovially. “Thet air the main thing; the scener-y hain’t needed ter give me an appetite. The smell o’ them turkeys air gone to my stummick a’ready, an’ I reckon I sh’ll hev ter take ter the crick ter git out’n reach of hit if the dinner’s later’n common.”
“Be keerful you don’t fall in,” warned Mrs. Coyle sarcastically. She paused in the midst of her egg beating to look about for Dock, her youngest, who was prone to get into mischief if unwatched.
By ten o’clock the company had arrived. It included the Bills family, as being next of kin, and Miss Howard who had waited to come with Mrs. Gooch and the younger children. Martin and Abner made themselves as useful as possible by taking the smaller members of the assembled families a short distance along the mountain-side in search of the hickory nuts which might have escaped their eyes at nutting time.
The company sat out of doors and visited with the host, while Talitha and her mother, with Gincy’s aid, completed the final preparations for the Christmas feast. The children’s table was laid beside a clump of laurel. When the youngsters appeared, they were immediately set down before well-filled plates while their elders gathered in the cabin. The family table had been lengthened by Martin’s skilful contriving and placed cornerwise across the room. Even then it took some managing to get the guests properly seated.
Mrs. Coyle surveyed the feast with pardonable pride; it would have done credit to more notable housewives. Not since the early days of her marriage had she had the opportunity to show such hospitality. Two of the largest, plumpest turkeys in her flock graced the centre of the board in company with a fat, wild goose, potatoes, turnips, beans, squash, dishes of pickle, a salad—Talitha had learned to make at Bentville—besides the usual Christmas pies, and a large black cake Gincy had trimmed with a wreath of holly. Both front and back doors were wide open, and a gentle breeze cooled the heated room where both the new stove and the fireplace had been doing extra duty.