Then they got back to the baby and
disagreed on the question of family likeness. Kate thought the youngster
was the dead image of Sandy about the mouth and eyes. Sal said it had
Dad's nose; while Mother was reminded of her dear old grandmother every
time the infant smiled. Joe ventured to think it resembled Paddy Maloney
far more than it did Sandy, and was told to run away and put the calves
in. The child was n't yet christened, and the rest of the evening was
spent selecting a name for it. Almost every appellation under the sun was
suggested and promptly rejected. They could n't hit on a suitable one,
and Kate would n't have anything that was n't nice, till at last Dad
thought of one that pleased everybody--"Jim!"
After supper, Kate started playing the concertina, and the Andersons and
Maloneys and several others dropped in. Dad was pleased to see them; he
wished them all a merry Christmas, and they wished him the same and many
of them. Then the table was put outside, and the room cleared for a
dance. The young people took the floor and waltzed, I dare say, for
miles--their heads as they whirled around tossing the green bushes that
dangled from the rafters; while the old people, with beaming faces,
sat admiring them, and swaying their heads about and beating time to the
music by patting the floor with their feet.
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