“Yes, indeed, sir!  It’s the most beautiful flag that waves, isn’t it?”

“None to compare to it in my esteem,” his father answered with a pleased laugh.

CHAPTER IX.

Before morning the weather had moderated very much, a thaw had set in, and the snow was going rapidly.

“Well, what sports shall we contrive for to-day?” asked Herbert, at the breakfast table.  “Certainly both skating and snow fights are entirely out of the question.”

“Entirely!” echoed Harold; “all other outdoor sports also; for a drizzling rain is beginning to fall, and the melting snow has covered roads and paths with several inches of water.”

“We have some games for the house which you have not tried yet,” said their mother; “‘Table croquet,’ ‘Parlor Quoits,’ ‘Parlor Ring Toss,’ Jack-straws and others.”

“And I have a new game that papa gave me this Christmas—­’The Flags of all Nations,’” remarked Lulu.  “I brought it with me.”

“We will be glad to see it,” said Harold.

“It is probably improving as well as entertaining,” remarked Zoe.  “I should judge so from the name.”

“I think you will find it both,” said the captain.

“So you would ‘Corn and Beans,’ too, Aunt Zoe,” said Max.  “Papa gave it to me, and we tried it Christmas eve at home, and found it very funny.”

The morning and most of the afternoon were occupied with these games, which seemed to afford much enjoyment to the children and young people.

It was the winding up of their Christmas festivities at Ion, and all were in the mood for making it as gay and mirthful as possible.  Some—­the Raymonds among others—­would leave shortly after tea, the rest by or before bedtime.

They finished the sports of the afternoon with two charades.  The older people were the spectators, the younger ones the actors.

Mendicant was the word chosen for the first.

A number of the boys and girls came trooping into the parlor, each carrying an old garment, thimble on finger, and needle and thread in hand.  Seating themselves they fell to work.

Zoe was patching an old coat, Lulu an apron, Gracie a doll’s dress; Eva and Rosie each had a worn stocking drawn over her hand, and was busily engaged in darning it; the other girls were mending gloves, the boys old shoes; and as they worked they talked among themselves.

“Zoe,” said Maud, “I should mend that coat differently.”

“How would you mend it?” asked Zoe.

“With a patch much larger than that you are sewing on it.”

“I shouldn’t mend it that way,” remarked Sydney.  “I’d darn it.”

“Thank you both for your very kind and disinterested advice,” sniffed Zoe.  “But I learned how to mend before I ever saw you.  And I should mend those gloves in a better way than you are taking.”

“If you know so well how to mend, Madam Zoe, will you please give me some instruction about mending this shoe?” said Herbert.  “Cobbling is not in my line.”