“He laughs at me, so I don’t wish you to have any thing to do with him.”
“Shall, if I like,” said Nan, promptly resenting this premature assumption of authority on the part of her lord.
“Then I won’t have you for my sweetheart.”
“Why, Nan, I thought you were fond of me!” and Tommy’s voice was full of tender reproach.
“If you mind Jack’s laughing I don’t care for you one bit.”
“Then you may take back your old ring; I won’t wear it any longer;” and Tommy plucked off a horse-hair pledge of affection which Nan had given him in return for one made of a lobster’s feeler.
“I shall give it to Ned,” was her cruel reply; for Ned liked Mrs. Giddy-gaddy, and had turned her clothes-pins, boxes, and spools enough to set up housekeeping with.
Tommy said, “Thunder-turtles!” as the only vent equal to the pent-up anguish of the moment, and, dropping Nan’s arm, retired in high dudgeon, leaving her to follow with the fork,--a neglect which naughty Nan punished by proceeding to prick his heart with jealousy as if it were another sort of apple.
The hearth was swept, and the rosy Baldwins put down to roast. A shovel was heated, and the chestnuts danced merrily upon it, while the corn popped wildly in its wire prison. Dan cracked his best walnuts, and every one chattered and laughed, while the rain beat on the window-pane and the wind howled round the house.
“Why is Billy like this nut?” asked Emil, who was frequently inspired with bad conundrums.
“That’s not fair; you mustn’t make fun of Billy, because he can’t hit back again. It’s mean,” cried Dan, smashing a nut wrathfully.
“To what family of insects does Blake belong?” asked peacemaker Franz, seeing that Emil looked ashamed and Dan lowering.
“Why is Daisy like a bee?” cried Nat, who had been wrapt in thought for several minutes.
“Because she is queen of the hive,” said Dan.
“Because she makes sweet things, is always busy, and likes flowers,” said Nat, piling up his boyish compliments till Daisy blushed like a rosy clover.
“Why is Nan like a hornet?” demanded Tommy, glowering at her, and adding, without giving any one time to answer, “Because she _isn’t_ sweet, makes a great buzzing about nothing, and stings like fury.”
“Tommy’s mad, and I’m glad,” cried Ned, as Nan tossed her head and answered quickly--