Page:St. Nicholas - Volume 41, Part 1.djvu/68

54 that lay between the time of Libby’s leaving school and their going away, were filled with preparations for the journey. Of course Libby and Will’m had little part in that, except to collect the few toys they owned, and lay them beside the trunk which had been brought down from the attic to the sitting-room.

Libby had a grand washing of doll clothes one morning, and while she was hanging out the tiny garments, on a string stretched from one chair-back to another, Will’m proceeded to give his old Teddy bear a bath in the suds which she had left in the basin. Plush does not take kindly to soap-suds, no matter how much it needs it. It would have been far better for poor Teddy to have started on his travels dirty than to have become the pitiable, bedraggled-looking object that Libby snatched from the basin sometime later, where Will’m put him to soak. It seemed as if the soggy cotton body never would dry sufficiently to be packed in the trunk, and Will’’m would not hear of its being left behind, although it looked so dreadful that he did n’t like to touch it. So it hung by a cord around its neck in front of the fire for two whole days, and everybody who passed it gave the cord a twist, so that it was kept turning, like a roast on a spit.

There were more errands than usual to keep the children busy, and more ways in which they could help. As Christmas drew nearer and nearer, somebody was needed in the shop every minute, and Mrs. Neal had her hands full with the extra work of looking over their clothes and putting every garment in order. Besides, there was all the holiday baking to fill the shelves in the shop as well as in her own pantry.

So the children were called upon to set the table and help wipe the dishes. They dusted the furniture within their reach, and fed the cat. They brought in chips from the woodhouse and shelled corn by the basketful for the old gray hens. And every day they carried the eggs very slowly and carefully from the nests to the pantry, and put them one by one into the box of bran on the shelf. Then several mornings, all specially scrubbed and clean-aproned for the performance, they knelt on chairs by the kitchen table, and cut out rows and rows of little Christmas cakes from the sheets of smoothly rolled dough on the floury cake-boards. There were hearts, and stars, and cats, and birds, and all sorts of queer animals. Then, after the baking, there were delightful times when they hung breathlessly over the table, watching while scallops of pink or white icing were zigzagged around the stars and hearts, and pink eyes were put on the beasts and birds. Then, of course, the bowls which held the candied icing always had to be scraped clean by busy little fingers that went from bowl to mouth and back again, almost as fast as a kitten could lap with its pink tongue.

Oh, those last days in the old kitchen and sitting-room behind the shop were the best days of all, and it was good that Will’’m and Libby were kept so busy every minute that they had no time to realize that they were last days, and that they were rapidly coming to an end. It was not until the last night that Will’m seemed to comprehend that they were really going away the next day.

He had been very busy helping get supper, for it was the kind that he specially liked. Uncle Neal had brought in a rabbit all ready skinned and dressed, which he had trapped that afternoon, and Will’m had gone around the room for nearly an hour, snifing hungrily while it sputtered and browned in the skillet, smelling more tempting and delectable every minute. And he had watched while Grandma Neal lifted each crisp, brown piece up on a fork, and laid it on the hot waiting platter, and then stirred into the skillet the things that go to the making of a delicious cream gravy.

Suddenly, in the ecstasy of anticipation, Will’m was moved to throw his arms around Grandma Neal’s skirts, gathering them in about her knees in such a violent hug that he almost upset her.

“Oh, rabbit dravy!” he exclaimed, in a tone of such rapture that everybody laughed. Uncle Neal, who had already taken his place at the table, and was waiting too, with his chair tipped back on its hind legs, reached forward and gave Will’m’s cheek a playful pinch.

“It ’s easy to tell what you think is the best tasting thing in the world,” he said teasingly. “Just the smell of it puts the smile on your face that won’t wear off.”

Always, when his favorite dish was on the table, Will’m passed his plate back several times for more. To-night, after the fourth ladleful, Uncle Neal hesitated. “Have n’t you had about all that ’s good for you, kiddo?”’ he asked. “Remember you ’re going away in the morning, and you don’t want to make yourself sick when you ’re starting off with just Libby to look after you.”

There was no answer for a second. Then Will’m could n’t climb out of his chair fast enough to hide the trembling of his mouth and the gathering of unmanly tears. He cast himself across Mrs. Neal’s lap, screaming, “I are n’t going away! I won’t leave my dranma, and I won’t go where there ’ll never be any more good rabbit dravy!”

They quieted him after a while, and comforted