"
"Mr. Blake!" said Fred White, scratching his brown head and looking a
little puzzled. "Mr. Blake, if it ain't any harm--if you don't mind, you
know, telling a fellow,--a boy, I mean----" Just here he stopped talking;
for though he kept on scratching vigorously, no more words would come;
and comical Sammy Bantam, who stood alongside, whispered, "Keep
a-scratching, Fred; the old cow will give down after a while!"
Then Fred laughed, and the other boys, and the minister laughed, and the
cane could do nothing but stamp its foot in amusement.
"Well, Fred," said the minister, "what is it? Speak out." But Fred
couldn't speak now for laughing, and Sammy had to do the talking himself.
He was a stumpy boy, who had stopped off short; and you couldn't guess
his age, because his face was so much older than his body.
"You see, Mr. Blake," said Sammy, "we boys wanted to know--if there
wasn't any harm in your telling--why, we wanted to know what kind of a
thing we are going to have on Christmas at our Sunday-school."
"Well, boys, I don't know any more about it yet than you do. The teachers
will talk it over at their next meeting. They have already settled some
things, but I have not heard what."
"I hope it will be something good to eat," said Tommy Puffer.
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