"Call 'em crumblers! call 'em crumblers," said Deacon Plummer, laughing hard at his own joke, and rubbing his hands together before the fire; "tell the children they're a new kind, called crumblers." "Oh! the children won't mind," said Mrs. March, politely, and she brought a glass dish from the closet, and, filling it with the crumbs, covered it with a red napkin, and set it on the sideboard. "There," said she, "as soon as Rob comes downstairs in the morning, he will peep into this dish, and the first thing he will say will be, 'I know who's been here: Mrs. Plummer's been here. I know her crullers.' That's what he always says when he finds your crullers on the sideboard." Mrs. Plummer's little blue eyes twinkled with pleasure, so that the wrinkles around their corners all folded together like the sticks of an umbrella shutting up. "Does he now, really?" she said. "The dear little fellow! Children always does like crullers." "Crumblers; call 'em crumblers," shouted the Deacon. "That's the best name for 'em anyhow." "Well, Parson," he said, "how's Colorado? Heard any thing more? Me an' my wife's gettin' more'n more inter the notion of goin', that is, ef you go. We shan't pick up an' go off by ourselves; we're too old, an' we ain't used enough to travellin': but ef you go, we go; that's about fixed, ain't it, 'Lizy?" and he looked at his wife and then at Mr. March and then at Mrs. March, with his queer little quick, fierce glance, as if he had said something very warlike, and everybody were going to contradict him at once. "Yes" (cough, cough), "I expect we'd better" (cough, cough) "go 'long; 't seems kinder" (cough, cough) "providential like our all goin'" (cough, cough) "together so. Don't you think" (cough, cough) "so, Mrs. March? Be ye sure" (cough, cough) "ye'd like to have us go?" replied Mrs. Plummer. "Oh, yes, indeed!" said Mrs. March. "Mr. March was just speaking of it when you came in how much he would like to have Deacon Plummer go. Mr. March knows very little about farming, though he was brought up on a farm, and he will be very glad of Deacon Plummer's help; and I shall be very glad to see two Mayfield faces there. I expect to be lonely sometimes." "Lonely, ma'am, lonely!" spoke up the Deacon: "can't be lonely, ma'am. Don't think of such a thing, ma'am, with the youngsters, ma'am, and me an' my wife, ma'am, an' the Parson. I'd like to see you have a lonesome minnit, ma'am;" and the Deacon looked round on them all again with his quick, fierce look. Mr. March laughed. "It seems to be shutting in all round us, Sarah, to take us to Colorado: doesn't it?" "It isn't two hours," he continued, turning to Deacon Plummer, "since the children left us to go to bed, with their heads so full of Colorado and their desire to set out for the country immediately, that I am afraid they haven't shut their eyes yet. And as for Nelly, she's gone to bed with a picture of Pike's Peak in her hand."