"Rub-a-dub-dub, rub-a-dub-dub," went the drum, "Hurrah!" shouted the boys as they marched in. The turkey, the celery, the loaves of bread, the pail of fruit, and the knives, forks, and spoons, were placed on the table, and the coal-hod, broom, dish-pan, and satchels of toys under it. The chairs were set down, and the boys ranged themselves around the room, and at a signal from Jack Lubs they all shouted at the top of their voices, "Merry Christmas!" And then what do you think Lady Bags did—she who had told the Janvrin children they must smile? Burst out crying as though her heart would break!
"Good gracious! what is the matter now?" asked Tim.
"Girls is never satisfied," growled Sandy Grip.
"You hush!" said Abe Wilson, with more emphasis than politeness.
"The matter?" repeated Lady. "You dear, good, splendid boys, I cried for joy! You can't think how happy I am. But I'm going to laugh all the rest of the day."
"That's right," said Ashburner; "and now, if your Majesty will listen, we have something to read to you."
And in the twinkling of an eye the huge basket was on the floor, and Lady, blushing like a sweet wild rose, seated as on a throne in its place.
"Attention, company!" called Jack Lubs, and mounting a chair, he unfolded a paper, and read as follows:
"'We, the Woods and Tins'—which means the Shorts too—'do promise from this Christmas-day, 25th of December, 1878, to fight no more battles, but bury the tomahawk, and smoke the calumet of peace together forever. And three cheers for Lady Rags!'"
Just at this moment Mr. Janvrin, the crippled painter, limped in. Then, finding everything so jolly where he had expected nothing but gloom, he joined in with all his might. And Lady's three mothers and some girl friends, who had been looking on from the entry, joined in too.