[Chapter First.]
"WHAT are you going to do about Christmas this year?" asked Abby Coles of her cousin Ethel Fletcher, as they walked home from school together one afternoon towards the close of December.
"I don't know," said Ethel; "I have not thought much about it yet."
"But Christmas is almost here," argued Abby, "and if you are going to make any thing, it is time you began it. I have almost finished my worsted shawl, and am going to knit some scarfs next. Father gave me five dollars to spend, and I am to have five more if I finish the arithmetic before holidays, as I am almost certain I shall. So you see I shall be well off for spending money. What have you commenced?"
"Nothing," replied Ethel: "I have not asked father for any money yet, and I don't exactly like to, for when mother told him the other day that she wanted some new things, he said she must wait if she could, for he could not afford it at present."
"Oh, that's nothing!" returned Abby. "My father says so half the time, and then very likely, he goes and buys something that costs twice as much as what we asked him for. That's always the way with men."
"But you know my father failed," said Ethel, "and we are not as rich as we were."
"So did my father fail," said Abby; "but I don't see that it makes any difference with us. Come, Ethel, ask your father for some money to-night, and to-morrow we can go out together and get our things. I want you to knit a shawl for your mother like the one I am doing. It would be so becoming to her. And then you ought to do something for Aunt Sally too. You know she won't like it if you don't."
"Mother told me to stop there and do an errand this afternoon," said Ethel: "I don't like to go to see her lately, she is so cross."
"She is cross sometimes," admitted Abby; "but then she always gives us very nice presents."