There was unanimous acceptance, even by boys living nearly forty miles distant from Killis, Nucky's being qualified by the condition, "If the Cheevers haint giving too much trouble at home." I sighed deeply. "Boys," I said, "you know what I think about drinking; you know I consider it very, very wrong." "Quare women has quare notions," remarked Joab, forbearingly. "You know I hope the day will come when not one of you will ever touch liquor," I said. "Is there one now who thinks enough of me to promise not to drink this Christmas?" The dead silence that followed was broken at last by Philip. "We like you all right," he said; "but, by grab, a fellow's got to see some fun!" It is rumored that Killis's uncles still carry on the business in which his father perished; so I suppose there will be no doubt about the "good-and-plenty" to drink at his house. _Sunday, mid-December._ Two birthdays this past week, Philip's thirteenth, Wednesday, and Nucky's twelfth yesterday, and the excitement of having gorgeous birthday cakes at our table, and passing around candles for birthday wishes. At bed-time last night, Hen came up from the wash-house looking extremely clean as to head and feet. When he was passing into the bedroom however, I called him back. "What is that dark band just below your nightgown?" I asked. He made no reply, but stooped so that his gown should fall lower. I lifted the hem to his knees, revealing the fact that the cleanness stopped half-way, and that above that line his legs were more than dingy. "Didn't you wash all over?" I inquired. "Not quite all." "How much did you wash?" "Down to my neck and very near up to my knees. That dag-gone ole gown done shrunk up two inches sence the last time." "But didn't I tell you you must wash all over every single bath?" "That was before cold weather sot in. Philip he said down to your neck and up to your knees was a-plenty in cold weather, and all _he_ was aiming to do; and it's all any of us boys been a-doing sence November started in." "You haint never washed as far up as your knees, son," corrected Keats, from superior heights; "you allus stop where your nightgown comes to. I told you she'd ketch you if you done that!" Summoning all my family, I found the shocking fact to be true that for six weeks not one had bathed any farther than "down to my neck and up to my knees,"--they rather gloried in it, especially Philip, and complained bitterly when made to lose several days' play time, in addition to taking a complete bath instantly, every one, though it was already past bed-time. Truly my Thanksgiving pride in their beautiful manners and aristocratic appearance has received a severe shock! XIX CHRISTMAS AND DANGER _Wednesday Afternoon, Christmas Day._