“It looks awful like a hospital, and the bolsters will keep fallin' down in between and it'll be dreadful hard mak-in' 'em up of a mornin',” rejoined Emma Jane, who was no flatterer, being New England born and bred.
The sitting-room coal stove had accommodations, on top and back, for cooking, so Bell thought that their suppers, with perhaps an occasional breakfast, might be prepared there. The large bay-window, with its bright drugget, would serve as a sort of tiny diningroom, so the mahogany extension-table, with its carved legs, pretty red cover, and silver service, was carried there. This accomplished, and every room made graceful and attractive by Bell (who was a born homemaker, and placed photographs, lamps, sofa-pillows, fir-boughs, and bowls of red apples just where they were needed in the picture), she went over to her Grandmother's, where four loaves of bread were baking and pies being filled, in order that the young housekeepers might begin with a full pantry.
“Oh, Grandma,” she exclaimed breathlessly, tearing off her cloud and bringing down with it a sunshiny mass of bronze hair, “it does look lovely, if I do say it; and as for setting that house on fire, there's no danger, for it will take a week to thaw it into a state in which it would burn. I have made up my mind that I sha'n't be the one to build the fires every morning, even if I am hostess. I don't want to freeze myself daily for the cause of politeness. Has the provision man come yet!”
“Yes,” said Uncle Harry, “and brought eatables enough for an army—more than you girls can devour in a month.”
“You'll see,” said Bell, laughingly.
“You don't know the capacity of the 'Jolly Six' yet. Now, Betty, please take the eggs and potatoes and fish and put them in our store room. I've just time to make my cake and custard before I drive to the station for the girls. Do you know, Uncle Harry, I am going to do the most astounding thing! I've borrowed Farmer Allen's one-seated old pung,—the one he takes to town filled with vegetables,—and I am going to keep it for our sleigh-rides. It will hold all six of us, and what do we care for public opinion!” said she, with a disdainful gesture.
CHAPTER II—IN THE FIRELIGHT
TWO hours later you might have seen the old pung drawn by Mr. Allen's Jerry, with Bell and Alice Forsaith on the seat, and four laughing, rosy-cheeked girls warmly tucked in buffalo robes on the bottom. Even the sober old sun, who had been under a cloud that day, poked his head out to see the fun, and became so interested that, in spite of himself, he forgot his determination not to shine, and did his duty all the afternoon.