What a Christmas it was! Two nights previous to it the club had an
entertainment in behalf of missions, as Miss Barry had suggested. Dressed
as that benevolent individual, Santa Claus, different members of the club
stepped forward and gave an account of Christmas in Germany, Christmas in
Russia, Christmas in Italy, and Christmas in Australia. The boys were
curious to see how much money they had made.

"Twenty dollars!" declared Sid, who counted the funds.

"There," said Miss Barry, "the Up-the-Ladder Club will put rounds under
the feet of boys in heathen lands, and help them climb up into the light
of a Saviour's presence."




CHAPTER XIX.

THE WRECK.


Snow still kept away, but winter winds had come, and they swept over the
bare ground, cutting like knives. About the first of the year the weather
softened. The old gray heads, whose possessors occupied that
village-throne of wisdom, the jackknife-carved bench by Silas Trefethen's
stove, prophesied "a spell of weather."

"Storm brewin'! I feel it in my bones," declared Simes Badger, squinting
at the vane on Aunt Stanshy's barn and then at the gray, scowling clouds