The Peace Egg and Other tales | Page 7

what's Pax to be?" asked Dora; "for you know he will come if
Darkie does, and he'll run in before everybody else too."
"Then he must be the Fool," said Robin, "and it will do very well, for
the Fool comes in before the rest, and Pax can have his red coat on, and
the collar with the little bells."
CHRISTMAS EVE.
Robin thought that Christmas would never come. To the Captain and
his wife it seemed to come too fast. They had hoped it might bring
reconciliation with the old man, but it seemed they had hoped in vain.
There were times now when the Captain almost regretted the old
bachelor's bequest. The familiar scenes of her old home sharpened his
wife's grief. To see her father every Sunday in church, with marks of
age and infirmity upon him, but with not a look of tenderness for his
only child, this tried her sorely.
"She felt it less abroad," thought the Captain. "An English home in
which she frets herself to death is, after all, no great boon."
Christmas Eve came.
"I'm sure it's quite Christmas enough now," said Robin. "We'll have
'The Peace Egg' to-night."
So as the Captain and his wife sat sadly over their fire, the door opened,
and Pax ran in shaking his bells, and followed by the nursery mummers.

The performance was most successful. It was by no means pathetic, and
yet, as has been said, the Captain's wife shed tears.
"What is the matter, Mamma?" said St. George, abruptly dropping his
sword and running up to her.
"Don't tease Mamma with questions," said the Captain; "she is not very
well, and rather sad. We must all be very kind and good to poor dear
Mamma;" and the Captain raised his wife's hand to his lips as he spoke.
Robin seized the other hand and kissed it tenderly. He was very fond of
his mother. At this moment Pax took a little run, and jumped on to
Mamma's lap, where, sitting facing the company, he opened his black
mouth and yawned, with a ludicrous inappropriateness worthy of any
clown. It made everybody laugh.
"And now we'll go and act in the kitchen," said Nicholas.
"Supper at nine o'clock, remember," shouted the Captain. "And we are
going to have real frumenty and Yule cakes, such as Mamma used to
tell us of when we were abroad."
"Hurray!" shouted the mummers, and they ran off, Pax leaping from his
seat just in time to hustle the Black Prince in the doorway. When the
dining-room door was shut, St. George raised his hand, and said
"Hush!"
The mummers pricked their ears, but there was only a distant harsh and
scraping sound, as of stones rubbed together.
"They're cleaning the passages," St. George went on, "and Sarah told
me they meant to finish the mistletoe, and have everything cleaned up
by supper-time. They don't want us, I know. Look here, we'll go real
mumming instead. That will be fun!"
The Valiant Slasher grinned with delight.
"But will mamma let us?" he inquired.

"Oh, it will be all right if we're back by supper-time," said St. George,
hastily. "Only of course we must take care not to catch cold. Come and
help me to get some wraps."
The old oak chest in which spare shawls, rugs, and coats were kept was
soon ransacked, and the mummers' gay dresses hidden by motley
wrappers. But no sooner did Darkie and Pax behold the coats, &c., than
they at once began to leap and bark, as it was their custom to do when
they saw any one dressing to go out. Robin was sorely afraid that this
would betray them; but though the Captain and his wife heard the
barking they did not guess the cause.
So the front door being very gently opened and closed, the nursery
mummers stole away.
THE NURSERY MUMMERS AND THE OLD MAN.
It was a very fine night. The snow was well trodden on the drive, so
that it did not wet their feet, but on the trees and shrubs it hung soft and
white.
"It's much jollier being out at night than in the daytime," said Robin.
"Much," responded Nicholas, with intense feeling.
"We'll go a wassailing next week," said Robin. "I know all about it, and
perhaps we shall get a good lot of money, and then we'll buy tin swords
with scabbards for next year. I don't like these sticks. Oh, dear, I wish it
wasn't so long between one Christmas and another."
"Where shall we go first?" asked Nicholas, as they turned into the
high-road. But before Robin could reply, Dora clung to Nicholas,
crying, "Oh, look at those men!"
The boys looked up the road, down which three men were coming in a