“It ain’t any use,” he said, glancing down the table, “to call the roll. We’re all here an’ accounted for. The only man or woman that can’t answer to their name is Danny Lemmons’s little brown fiddle, an’ I’ll bet a sev’m-punce it’d skreak a little ef he tuck it out’n the bag. But before we whirl in an’ make a charge three deep, le’ ’s begin right. This is Christmas, and that bowl yander, with the egg-nog in it, looks tired. Good as the dinner is, it’s got to have a file leader. We’ll start in with what looks the nighest like Christmas.” “Well,” said Aunt Crissy, “I’ve been in sech a swivet all day I don’t reelly reckon the nog is wuth your while, but you’ll ha’ ter take it thes like you fin’ it. Hit’s sweetened wi’ long sweet’nin’, an’ it’ll ha’ ter be dipped up wi’ a gourd an’ drunk out’n cups.” “Lord bless you, ma’am,” exclaimed Chadwick, “they won’t be no questions axed ef it’s got Christmas enough in it, an’ I reckon it is, kaze I poured it in myself, an’ I can hol’ up a jug as long as the nex’ man.” Though it was sweetened with syrup, the egg-nog was a success, for its strength could not be denied. “Ef I hadn’t ’a’ been a prisoner of war, as you may say,” remarked Chadwick, when the guests had fairly begun to discuss the dinner, “I’d ’a’ got me a hunk of barbecue an’ a dumplin’ or two, an’ a slice of that chicken pie there—I’d ’a’ grabbed ’em up an’ ’a’ made off down the mountain. Why, I’ll tell you what’s the truth—I got a whiff of that barbecue by daylight, an’ gentulmen, it fairly made me dribble at the mouth. Nex’ to Uncle Billy there, I was the fust man at the pit.” “Yes, yes,” said Uncle Billy, laughing, “that’s so. An’ you holp me a right smart. I’ll say that.” “An’ Spurlock, he got a whiff of it. Didn’t you all notice, about the time he was gittin’ married, how his mouth puckered up? Along towards the fust I thought he was fixin’ to dip down an’ give the bride a smack. But, bless you, he had barbecue on his min’, an’ the bride missed the buss.” “He didn’t dare to buss me,” exclaimed Polly, who was ministering to her grandfather. “Leastways not right out there before you all.” “Please, ma’am, don’t you be skeered of Iserl,” said Chadwick. “I kin take a quarter of that shote an’ tole him plumb back to camp.” “Now I don’t like the looks er this,” exclaimed Uncle Billy Powers, who had suddenly discovered that Lovejoy, sitting by the side of Danny Lemmons, was bound so that it was impossible for him to eat in any comfort. “Come, boys, this won’t do. I don’t want to remember the time when any livin’ human bein’ sot at my table on Christmas day with his han’s tied. Come, now!” “Why, tooby shore!” exclaimed Aunt Crissy. “Turn the poor creetur loose.” “Try it!” cried Colonel Watson, in his shrill voice. “Jest try it!” “Lord, no,” said Danny Lemmons. “Look at his eyes! Look at ’em.”