"
"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--"
"We will do this year as we always have," broke in the father,
angrily. "I suppose", with a look at his wife from which she shrank
as from a blow, "this is one of your plans to have your girls gadding
over the country."
"Mother never said anything about it," said Margaret, her temper
getting the better of her; "but nobody else takes Christmas times to
do their hardest and dirtiest work.
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