Great secrecy and whispers were the result of that trip to town. And many hours, while the children were at school, Mrs. Starr and Mrs. Latimer were busy sewing.
Finally, the great festival time arrived, and everyone wondered what sort of Christmas fun could be had out in the woods.
The two ladies had spent several days in the kitchen showing Cookee some marvelous things! He had never seen a plum pudding cooked before, but he declared he could make one like it, after having watched Mrs. Starr prepare an immense one.
High, flaky cakes, with chocolate or jelly between the layers, were baked and stood hidden in the closet back of the table.
The timber men had come across a cranberry swamp in the early days of cutting and Mrs. Starr had quietly appropriated the pretty red berries for a future use. Now they reappeared as cranberry sauce.
"Huh! who'd a'thought them sour little balls'd made sich a fine juice!" exclaimed Cookee, smacking his lips after a taste of the sauce.
"That's to go with the venison on Christmas Day," said Mrs. Latimer.
"Didn't yeh know? Heven't yeh hearn what Mike cotched?" asked Cookee eagerly.
"No, what?" asked the ladies, expectantly.
"Couple of wil' turkeys! Dey was roostin' near his trap, and Mike ain't never had a catch in it this year, so he was feelin' like a mighty poor kind of a trapper, when dese turkeys lit on a line wid his eye. It was some job to cotch bote on em, 'cause one allus flies away soon's a sound is hearn. But, Mike—he jest says to hisself, 'By gum! I'll git bote on yer or chase yer all over the Nort!'" and Cookee laughed as he thought of Mike's determined manner when he threw down both turkeys.