"My warriors are all strong men!" said the Lord of Misrule. "They can carry off anything, and carry on like everything." And then, as Christmas Eve was well past, and Christmas Day had begun, the merry guests went away, and the house party congratulated itself all round, wished everybody Merry Christmas, and went away to rest. CHAPTER XII COASTING Christmas morning was as white as the most picturesque imagination could desire. A heavy snow had fallen in the night and lay, sparkling, all over the fields and hills, so that now, in the sunshine, the whole earth seemed powdered with diamonds. Patty came dancing downstairs, in a dainty little white morning frock. "Merry Christmas, everybody!" she cried, as she found the group gathered round the fireplace in the hall. "Did you ever see such a beautiful day? Not for skating," and she smiled at Hal, "but for snow-balling or coasting or any old kind of fun with snow." "All right," cried Roger. "Who's for a snow frolic? We can build a fort----" "And make a snow-man," put in Daisy, "with a pipe in his mouth and an old hat on his head. Why do snow-men always have to have those two things?" "They don't," said Jim Kenerley. "That's an exploded theory. Let's make one this morning of a modern type, and let him have anything he wants except a pipe and a battered stove-pipe hat." "We'll give him a cigarette and a Derby," said Patty. "Oh, here comes the mail! Let's have that before we go after our snow-man." The chauffeur came in from a trip to the post-office, with his hands and arms full of mail,--parcels, papers, and letters,--which he deposited on a table, and Jim Kenerley sorted them over. "Heaps of things for everybody," he said. "Belated gifts, magazines, letters, and post cards. Patty, this big parcel is for you; Daisy, here are two for you." "May take letters! Let baby May be postman!" cried the infant Kenerley. "Let her, Jim,--she loves to be postman," and Adele put the baby down from her arms, and she toddled to her father. "Great scheme!" said Hal. "Wait a minute, midget; I'll make you a cap." With a few folds, a newspaper was transformed into a three-cornered cap and placed on the baby's head. "Now you're a postman," said her uncle. "Go and get the letters from the post-office." "Letters, p'ease," said the baby, holding out her fat little hands to her father. "All right, kiddums; these parcels are too big for you; you're no parcel-post carrier. But here's a bunch of letters; pass them around and let every one pick out his own." Obediently, the baby postman started off, and passing Daisy first, dumped the whole lot in her lap. "Wait a minute, Toddles," said Daisy. "I'll pick out mine, then you take the rest on." Daisy selected half a dozen or more, and gave the rest of the lot back to the little one, who went on round the circle, letting each pick out his own letters.