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"Then, I tell you." Matilda slid off on the old floor, holding Jane's calico ap.r.o.n-end. "I'll tell you; you tickle first, an' when she's kicking you, I'll tickle the other leg, and she can't--"
"You tickle first," said Jane, interrupting.
"All right, I will," promised Matilda; "only you're so afraid, you won't tickle in time."
"Yes, I will," said Jane; "as long as she ain't kickin' me, I don't care."
"Well, come on," and Matilda slid cautiously up behind the ragged little shoes that ended Elvira's legs, and, understanding through long experience how to bide her time, she bestowed such stinging little nips on the nearest red woollen stocking, that Elvira sent it out with a spiteful kick, just too short to reach the attacking party, who took a long slide back on the floor. And having the same attention now being paid to her other woollen leg, and her two hands full with the boys, it was easy to see that Elvira would soon be pushed quite away from her vantage ground by the big box.
Meantime Susan had crawled over her barricade, with mind intent on joining the family party again around the big box, but, meeting a large wad of paper, she changed her plan, and sat placidly still, chewing it into bits, which she spit out of her mouth with happy little crows.
And now, with four good pairs of hands busy at unpacking, why, it is needless to say that the big box was soon to be quite empty. Elvira ran around and around the sides, trying to crowd herself in somewhere. But they wouldn't let her in, nor Luke either, who they quite well knew would give her up his place as soon as he got it.
"I don't care a single bit," at last cried Elvira, finding all her efforts useless; "I'll take the bundles an' open 'em, so there!" with a dash at the nearest one on the floor.
"No--sir--ee!" exclaimed Matthew, flying away from the big box to pursue her; "we're goin' to open 'em all together. Drop that, now, Viry Hansell!"
But easier said than done. Elvira, clutching the big bundle, raced around and around the kitchen, Matthew after her, till, in an unwary moment, she turned too suddenly; over she went, coming flat down on Susan, with her big wad of paper in her mouth.
"Now, then," cried Matthew, angrily, "see what you've done!" And stopping first to pick up the baby, it gave Elvira just the time she wanted. But where should she fly?
Just then a gust of wind answered her. It blew the crazy old door, always loose on its hinges, free, and with a whoop she pushed it wide, and flew out with her prize.
"All right. Now you won't come in again," declared Matthew, decidedly, who had set Susan in her mother's lap, and slamming the door, he pushed an old nail into the hole over the latch. "That fixes you, Miss Elviry Hansell," and back he went to the interrupted scene of his operations.
"Where's Elviry?" asked Luke, anxiously, as the bustle went on.
"Outdoors," said Matthew, concisely.
"Outdoors?" repeated Luke. "It's cold there."
"Well, she can run and keep warm. I'm goin' to let her in, in a minute.
Now, then, we've everythin' out," peering into the box-depth.
"Let's get into a ring round Mammy an' open 'em one at a time," said Mark.
"All right," said Matthew, approvingly. "Come on, move the bundles. All hands now. Take hold, Luke."
But Luke stood quite still. "She can't keep warm a-runnin'," he said.
"Yes, she can; and besides, she's a naughty girl. She's always a naughty girl," said Matthew. "Come ahead, Luke, I'll take care of Elviry, an'
let her in, in a minute, I tell you."
But Luke preferred to see to the matter himself. So, in the midst of the bustle attendant upon getting ready to open the bundles, he slid out, with Mrs. Hansell's old black shawl, and scampered around the corner of the house.
"Where be you, Elviry?" he cried, under his breath, and wis.h.i.+ng he could put the old shawl around himself.
"Here," said a voice, and looking off, he jumped, for there on a high s...o...b..nk, back of the old pump, was a boy in a big overcoat with a red woollen tippet tied around his head.
Luke took one good look, then sprang for the house.
"Oh, you silly thing," cried Elvira's voice, "it's me! Come here, Luke!"
It was so unmistakably Elvira's voice that Luke stared again, and, rubbing his eyes at every step, he stumbled up, putting the old shawl under his arm.
"What you got on?" he gasped, staring wildly at her.
"Hee-hee-hee!" giggled Elvira, drumming her old shoes against the rutty s...o...b..nk. "Come up here, an' I'll tell you."
As Luke wouldn't be told until he got up there, he lost no time in doing so, and was soon beside her, with the whites of his eyes showing generously in a prolonged stare at the overcoat and red woollen tippet.
"What _you_ got?" demanded Elvira, feeling quite elegant and sociable, and smoothing down the overcoat front with contented fingers.
"Mammy's shawl--for you," said Luke.
"I don't want it," said Elvira, picking at the end of the woollen tippet with her little finger quirked up elegantly. "Put it on yourself," which Luke was only too glad to do.
"Where'd you get 'em?" gasped Luke, forgetting in his worry over Elvira's being out in the cold, any big bundle she might have had in possession at the time of her departure and laying fearful fingers on the magnificent coat-sleeve.
"O dear, hee-hee-hee!" Elvira went off into a giggle again. And she swung her feet smartly back and forth. "Why, see there, Luke Hansell!"
She flapped the coat collar back suddenly. "See there!" she repeated.
"Where?" said Luke, stupidly.
"Why, there, you silly thing, see that paper! 'For Biggest Boy.' I know.
I've spelled it all out."
"Well, I don't see," began Luke, blankly, huddling up in the old shawl and wis.h.i.+ng it was bigger.
"Oh, you, I'd like to shake you, Luke!" cried Elvira, twisting her hands together nervously; "it's just as bad as it can be to be so stupid. I _ought_ to shake you."
"You may," said Luke, humbly, who had given that answer many times to Elvira, but had never yet received the shaking.
"'Twouldn't be any use, you'd be just as stupid," she said with a sigh.
"Well, Matthew's our biggest boy, ain't he?"
"Yes," said Luke, "he is."
"Well, an' so this coat an' tippet's meant for him," said Elvira, composedly, and drawing her cold fingers well up within the thick sleeves.
"_That coat for Matthew!_" cried Luke, slipping off from his snowy perch; "_an' that tippet, too!_" With that he lost his head completely, and, getting entangled in the ragged fringe of the shawl, over he went, rolling down against the frozen pump.
Meantime the heads of all the children remaining in the old kitchen, except that of Susan, who had squirmed out of her mother's lap to the delight of her paper-chewing again, were pushed tight up over Matthew's shoulder, as he laboriously spelled out a letter found in the midst of the bundle-opening.
"'Mrs. Hansell'--that's Mother," explained Matthew.
"Yes, yes, we know," said Matilda, scornfully; "go on."