But much as they would like to linger about the Christmas tree, Peggy
and her mother, at least, must remember that the dishes must be washed
and the beds made, and that the family must get ready for church. Peggy
does not go to church, and nobody dreams how much she wants to go. She
loves the Christmas music. No hymn rings so with joy as:
Jerusalem triumphs, Messiah is king.
The choir sings it only once a year, on the Christmas morning. Besides,
her chum Esther will be at church, and Peggy has been too busy to go to
see her since she came home from boarding-school for the holidays. But
somebody must stay at home, and that somebody who but Peggy? Somebody
must baste the turkey and prepare the vegetables and take care of the
babies.
Peggy is surprised to find how difficult it is to combine
dinner-getting with baby-tending. When she opens the oven-door, there
is Minna's head thrust up under her arm, the inquisitive little nose in
great danger by reason of sputtering gravy.
"Minna," protests Peggy, "you mustn't eat another bit of candy!" and
Minna opens her mouth in a howl, prolonged, but without tears and
without change of colour. Robin joins in, he does not know why. Peggy
is a doting aunt, but an honest one. She is vexed by a growing
conviction that Mabel's babies are sadly spoiled. Peggy is ashamed of
herself; surely she ought to be perfectly happy playing with Minna and
Robin.
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