“MY LAMB,” SHE MURMURED, “MY OWN PRECIOUS LAMB”!
CHAPTER VIII
THE three days before Christmas passed more slowly than any other days in Tommy’s life. As usual the hands of his cuckoo clock remained stationary in spite of the steady movement of the pendulum; but to Tommy’s unspeakable annoyance, although the chimney-piece clock seemed to tick louder than ever, he could scarcely see its hands move at all.
To make matters worse school had broken up and it was too wet and too cold for the children to play much out-of-doors. So all day long Tommy was in the kitchen trying to find something to do to fill up the time. When Ruthie was with him they quarrelled, and when she left him he was more miserable still.
Then Aunt Keziah Kate gave him some balls of coloured wool and Granny taught him to crochet. This was most engrossing for a time. He used a stubby forefinger as hook, pulling the loose loops as tight as possible, and slowly and laboriously made lengths of uneven chain. Later he taught Ruthie to make chains too, but was angry when he found that her chains were not only better done than his, the loops being much more even, but that she did quite six inches while he did only three.
At last, in spite of the slowly moving hands of the clock, it was Christmas Eve.
The whole day was one long excitement. At breakfast-time Tregennis, Mrs. Tregennis and Tommy were all in a state of high tension. The evening before, when Tommy was in bed and asleep, Tregennis had brought home a goose, which he handed with pride to his wife.
“Well,” she exclaimed, “an’ where did ee get that bird?”