Kate and the professor came in laden with wraps, laughing and talking
in great glee. Kate was going to ride in the sleigh with the
professor, and the discovery of a new species of potato-bug could not
have delighted him more. He was in a most gallant mood, and concluding
that this was the opportunity for making himself agreeable, he
undertook to put on Kate's rubbers over her dainty dancing slippers.
Perhaps it was a glimpse of the cobwebby black silk stocking that
ensnared his wits, perhaps it was the delight of kneeling to Kate even
in this humble capacity. In either case, the result was equally
grotesque; Kate found her dainty feet neatly enclosed in the
professor's ungainly arctics, while he hopelessly contemplated her
overshoe and the size of his own foot.
Anna returned with Mrs. Bartlett's bonnet and cloak before the laugh at
the professor had subsided. She adjusted the cloak, tied Mrs.
Bartlett's bonnet strings with daughterly care and then turned to look
after the Squire's comfort, but he strode past her to the sleigh with
Marthy. Kate and the professor called on a cheery "Good-night," but
Mrs. Bartlett remained long enough to take the pretty, sorrowful face
in her hands and give it a sweet, motherly kiss.
When the jingling of the sleighbells died away across the snow, Hi
offered to read jokes to Anna from "Pickings from Puck," which he had
selected as a Christmas present from Kate, if she would consent to have
supper in the sitting-room, where it was warm and cosy. Anna began to
pop the corn, and Hi to read the jokes with more effort than he would
have expended on the sawing of a cord of wood.
He bit into an apple. An expression of perfect contentment illuminated
his countenance and in a voice husky with fruit began: "Oh, here is a
lovely one, Anna," and he declaimed, after the style usually employed
by students of the first reader.
"Weary Raggles: 'Say, Ragsy, w'y don't you ask 'em for something to eat
in dat house. Is you afraid of de dog?'"
"Ragsy Reagan: 'No, I a-i-n-t 'fraid of the dog, but me pants is frayed
of him.'"
"Ha, ha, ha--say, Anna, that's the funniest thing I ever did see. The
tramp wasn't frayed of him, but his pants was 'fraid of him. Gee,
ain't that a funny joke? And say, Anna, there's a picture with his
clothes all torn."
Hi was fairly convulsed; he read till the tears rolled down his cheeks.
"'Pickin's from Puck, the funniest book ever wrote.' Here's another,
Anna."