"Don't you speak to Jack," whispered Tommy, as he and Nan promenaded down the hall to get a fork to prick the apples.
"Why not?"
"He laughs at me, so I don't wish you to have any thing to do with him."
"Shall, if I like,' said Nan, promptly resenting this premature assumption of authority on the part of her lord.
"Then I won't have you for my sweetheart."
"I don't care."
"Why, Nan, I thought you were fond of me!" and Tommy's voice was full of tender reproach.
"If you mind Jack's laughing I don't care for you one bit."
"Then you may take back your old ring; I won't wear it any longer;" and Tommy plucked off a horsehair pledge of affection which Nan had given him in return for one made of a lobster's feeler.
"I shall give it to Ned," was her cruel reply; for Ned liked Mrs. Giddy-gaddy, and had turned her clothes-pins, boxes, and spools enough to set up housekeeping with.
Tommy said, "Thunder-turtles!" as the only vent equal to the pent-up anguish of the moment, and, dropping Nan's arm, retired in high dudgeon, leaving her to follow with the fork,—a neglect which naughty Nan punished by proceeding to prick his heart with jealousy as if it were another sort of apple.
The hearth was swept, and the rosy Baldwins put down to roast. A shovel was heated, and the chestnuts danced merrily upon it, while the corn popped wildly
