The Little Colonel's Christmas Vacation by Annie Fellows Johnston

"WHAT a good gray day this is!" exclaimed Betty next morning, turning / from the window to look around the cheerful breakfast-room, all aglow / with an open wood-fire. "It's so bleak outside that there is no / temptation to go gadding, and so cosy indoors that we'll be glad of the / chance to stay at home and finish tying up our Christmas packages."

"Yes," assented Lloyd, who, having finished her breakfast, was standing / on the hearth-rug, her back to the fire and her hands clasped behind / her. "And for once I intend to have mine all ready the day befoah, so I / need not be rushed up to the last minute. For that reason I am glad that / mothah had to take the early train to town this mawning, to finish her / shopping. If she'd been at home, I should have talked all the time, / without accomplishing a thing."

"I think your tissue-paper and ribbon was put into my trunk," said / Betty, drumming idly on the window-pane. "I'll go and unpack it in a / minute, and have it off my mind, as soon as I see who this is coming up / the avenue."

A tall young fellow had turned in at the gate, and was striding along / toward the house as if in a great hurry.

"It's Rob Moore!" she exclaimed, in surprise. "I thought he wasn't / coming home until Christmas eve."

"So did I," answered Lloyd, crossing the room to look over Betty's / shoulder. "I'll beat you to the front doah, Betty."

There was a wild dash through the hall. Both slim figures bounced / against the door at the same instant. There was a laughing scuffle over / the latch, and then the two girls stood arm in arm between the white / pillars of the porch, gaily calling a greeting.

Rob waved a pair of skates in reply, and quickened his stride until he / came within speaking distance. One would have thought from his greeting / that they had seen each other only the day before. Rob never wasted time / on formalities.

"Hurry up, girls! Get your skates. The ice is fine on the creek, and / there's a crowd waiting for us down at the depot."

"Who?" demanded Lloyd.

"Oh, the MacIntyre boys and the Walton girls and that little red-headed / thing that they brought home from school with them. Kitty's going to / have a picnic on the creek bank for her."

"A picnic in Decembah!" ejaculated Lloyd.

"That's what she said," Rob answered, clicking his skates together as he / followed the girls into the house. "They telephoned over to me to hustle / up here and get you girls. They're on their way to the station now. / We're to meet them in the waiting-room."

"They should have let us know soonah," began Lloyd, "so that we could / have had a lunch ready. There'll be nothing cooked to take this time of / day."

"They didn't know it themselves," he interrupted. "Kitty proposed it at / the breakfast-table, and they just grabbed up whatever they could get / their hands on and started off."

"We have so much to do to-day," said Betty. "I don't see how we can ever / get through if we stop for this."

"Let everything slide!" begged Rob. "Do your work to-morrow. This will / be lots of fun. The ice may not last more than a day or so, and the / MacIntyre boys are not going to be out here all vacation."

"I suppose we could tie up those packages to-night," said Lloyd, with an / inquiring look at Betty.

"Of course," Rob answered for her. "And I'll help you with anything you / have to do. Come on."

"Well, then, you run out to the kitchen and ask Aunt Cindy to give you / something for a lunch, -- anything in sight, and we'll get ready while Mom / Beck finds our skates."