"What subject?" said Calvin Parks doggedly.
"Don't be cantankerous, Calvin! now don't!" said Mr. Sam. "It's Christmas Day. The subject of matrimony, you know."
"I have!" said Calvin. "She won't look at him! She wouldn't look at him if the only other man in the world was Job Toothaker's scarecrow, that scared the seeds under ground so they never came up. There's your answer!"
"Dear me sirs!" cried Mr. Sam, wringing his hands. "Dear me sirs! I don't know what's goin' to become of us, Calvin, I reelly don't!"
"Well!" said Calvin; "I guess likely you'll werry through the day, Sam. I know what's goin' to become of me; I'm goin' in to see Sim."
"Take the slippers, won't ye, Calvin?" cried Mr. Sam. "Tell him to wear 'em and save his boots. He's allers ben terrible hard on shoe-leather, Simeon has."
Calvin took the slippers with a grunt, and went into the next room, closing the door after him.
"Merry Christmas!" he cried. "How are you, Sim?"
"I'm obliged to you, Calvin; I am slim!" replied Mr. Sim. "I am unusual slim, sir. Take a seat, won't you?"
"I said Merry Christmas!" Calvin remarked gruffly. "Can't you speak up in the way of the season? Come, buck up, old timothy-grass! Merry Christmas!"