"Run in the sitting-room, girls, and get warm," said the mother. "Supper is almost ready."
"Oh, we're not cold; are we, Susy? I got another head mark, mother," said Rachel.
The mother smiled. "I hope you or Tom will get the prize. Where is he?" She was interrupted by a stamping of feet as the door was thrown open and Mr. Stillman, followed by the hired man and Tom, entered the room.
"Supper is ready," said Mrs. Stillman. "We were just going to call you."
"Well, I guess it will keep till we're ready," answered her husband, roughly. "Rachel, get some water; the bucket's empty, of course. Margaret, where's the wash-basin? Nothing in its place, as usual. Pity there wasn't two or three more girls lazyin' around!"
Nobody replied to this tirade. The hired man picked up the basin, Margaret handed a towel, Rachel brought the water, and soon the family were gathered around the well-spread table.
"I tell you," said Mr. Stillman, after a few mouthfuls of the savory food had apparently put him in a better humor, "I think we'll have fine weather for hog-killin' next week, and I never did have a finer lot of hogs."
"Oh, father," said Margaret, "don't butcher next week. Friday is Christmas day and—"
"Christmas!" interrupted her father. "Well, we always butcher Christmas week, don't we?"
"Yes, I know," she said, her lips trembling in spite of her effort to control herself. "But we never have enjoyed the holidays, and I thought maybe this year you—"