Holidays at the Grange | Page 5

the
party proposed playing "How do you like it." While Tom Green was
waiting in another room, the remainder of the company fixed upon a
word of double or treble meaning, which it was his duty to discover by
the answers given to three questions he was to ask of all in succession.
If unable to guess the word at the end of the third round, he would be
crowned with the dunce-cap, and must recommence his questions: if,
on the contrary, he hit upon the right word, the person whose answer
led him to conjecture it must take his place.
"Anna," said Tom, "how do you like it? Now, don't tell me you like it
very well, or not at all; give me something descriptive."
"I like it with a large capital."
"You do? Then it may either be a word, a state, a pillar, or a man of

business. Cousin Alice, how do you like it?"
"I like it shady and covered with moss."
"And you, Sister Ellen?"
"With vaults secure and well filled."
"What do you say, Gertrude?"
"I like it covered with violets."
"How do you prefer it, Charlie?"
"With a good board of directors."
"And you, Amy?"
"Covered with strong and skilful rowers."
"What is your preference, George?"
"I like it high and picturesque."
"How do you like it, John?"
"With numerous branches."
"It can't be a tree--how do you like it, Mary?"
"Very green."
"And you, Harry?"
"Of red brick or white marble."
"How contradictory! What have you to answer, Cornelia?"
"I like it steep and rocky."

"And you, Louis?"
"I like it warranted not to break."
"When do you like it, Anna?"
"When I have an account in it."
"When do you like it, Alice?"
"When I am in the country, and feel weary."
"And you, Ellen?"
"When I hold a check in my hand."
"And you, Gertrude?"
"In the spring of the year, when I feel languid and sentimental."
"When do you prefer it, Charlie?"
"When I want a loan, and can give good security."
"And you, Amy?"
"When I am in a boat, and becalmed."
"And you, George?"
"When I am at sea, anxiously looking out for land."
"What say you, John?"
"When I am a merchant, engaged in large transactions."
"When do you like it, Mary?"
"When my eye is weary of a flat, dull country."

"And you, Harry?"
"When I am a stockholder."
"So I should think, if it paid a good dividend. And if I were to ask you
my third question, 'Where will you put it!' one would place it under an
umbrageous tree, another by the sea, a third by a river, and a fourth on
a good business street, near the Exchange. My good friends, I would be
dull indeed if I did not guess it to be a BANK; and you, Sister Ellen,
may take my place; your well-filled vaults first gave me the clue."
After amusing themselves a little longer, they adjourned to the
sitting-room, as the tall, old-fashioned clock in the hall gave warning of
the rapid flight of time; and Mary, as was her custom, brought to her
uncle the large family Bible. When he opened the holy book, the very
youngest and wildest of the children listened with reverence to the
solemn words, and tried to join in the thanks which the good man
offered up to Heaven for bringing them together in health and peace,
and granting them so much happiness.
And then kisses and good-nights were exchanged, and the young group
was scattered; but not without a parting charge to each from Aunt Lucy,
"not to forget to hang up the stocking for Kriss-Kinkle, near the
chimney place; and not on any account to lock their doors--for they
might easily be taken sick in the night."
CHAPTER II.
CHRISTMAS DAY.--RHYMES.--CENTO.--GENTEEL LADY.--THE
FAIRY WOOD.
Sound were the slumbers that night at the Grange, notwithstanding the
determination of little Amy to lie awake and catch Kriss-Kinkle for
once; although as she said, "I know it must be Cousin Mary." Those
happy days of innocence and unsuspecting faith have passed away,
when children believed in a literal Kriss-Kinkle, clad in furs, and laden
with presents for the good, and sticks of wood for the naughty little
urchins who refuse to learn their A, B, C's, and to stand still while

mamma combs out their hair. The "infantry" of America have quite
given up their old-fashioned credulity, and as, according to the obsolete
saying of the older philosophers, "nature abhors a vacuum," and there
must be some children in the world, to keep the balance, the
spirit-rappers have kindly stepped into their vacant places, and may be
regarded as the true and only children on this side the Atlantic. The
frightful skepticism of the young ones