Specks reviewed the Christmas tree in the sitting-room after breakfast and looked upset. It was bigger than his own.
"Got one downstairs, too," crowed Jimsy. "Uncle Ab," he added, "he sort o' wanted it to be awful Christmasy through the whole house, an'—an' Jiminy Crickets, Specks, it is!"
"Uncle Ab—who's Uncle Ab?"
"Uncle Ab Sawyer." Jimsy bristled. "What ye got to say about it?"
"Nuthin'."
"Did you get two trees, Specks?"
"Naw. Hain't many folks did, I guess. 'Tain't nuthin' to crow about, anyway."
"Huh! Thought ye said the Middletons was more Christmasy'n us."
"I didn't."
"Ye did."
"I didn't."
"Ye did, too, and I walloped ye fur it. I'll wallop ye again if ye say ye didn't."
"Jimsy!" Aunt Judith's gentle voice put an end to controversy. An armistice was pledged.
"Did ye get skates, Specks?"
"Nope."
"Gosh, I'm sorry fur that. I got two pairs. Mebbe—Aunt Judith?"
"Yes, Jimsy?"
"Would ye mebbe mind me givin' Specks a pair o' skates? Mr. Middleton he ain't so Christmasy as you an' Uncle Ab—"
Specks swallowed hard and accepted this and the skates. But he could not forbear at least one shaft of triumph.
"I got a sled, Jimsy!"
"Huh!" said Jimsy. "So did I. Two of 'em."
It was too much. The street urchin in Specks came to the fore in a mighty wave of envy.
"Gawd!" he gulped.
Jimsy glowered.
"Hey!" he whispered fiercely "Hain't ye got no decency?"
Specks blushed apology and departed.
Later, Jimsy reviewed the Sawyer turkey with a reverential glisten in his eye.
"Specks!" he yelled from the kitchen window. "Yi, Specksy!"
"What d'ye want?"
"Come over an' see the turkey."
"Y'ain't got two, have ye?" demanded Specks with suspicion.
"Naw," said Jimsy. "One's enuff. This un's bigger'n the turkey Pete Googan raffled off last Christmas eve."
So Specks returned to envy—for the house of Sawyer had outdone the house of Middleton once more—and Jimsy in a glow of noisy delight led him to rows of pies and a barrel of ruddy apples—to celery and tarts—to fruit cake and cranberries and simmering vegetables—in short to every home-keeping kitchen device for filling a country house with the odor of Christmas and the promise of good cheer. The Sawyer kitchen to-day was a wonderful place of shine and spice. Even Aunt Judith felt the nameless something in the air, for her cheeks were faintly pink and the hand that smoothed her snowy apron trembled ever so little. Christmas had not come so this many a year.
But Specks departed this time with a furtive air of triumph.
"Mr. Middleton ain't no stiff," he announced. "He's goin' out on the hill coastin' with me this afternoon—"
"S-s-s-s-h!" whispered Jimsy fiercely. "D'ye want Aunt Judith to hear ye? I git awful sick o' wallopin' you, Specks, but lemme hear ye say that again an' I'll baste ye good."
The kitchen door swung back. Specks paled, as well he might. The first citizen stood in the doorway, his mouth set.
"Jimsy," he said, clearing his throat. "Get your sled, my boy. We'd better try it out before dinner."
It was a challenge to the Middletons, of course, but afterwards, in a wild moment of panic, Abner Sawyer felt that he would have retracted at any cost had it not been for the wonderful glow in Jimsy's face. He felt a little sick.... God help him, he liked Jimsy! He wanted to please him!
