they don't keep it. They turn it out, I suppose, just like mother told
me they acted about the dear little baby Savior; they hadn't any room
for him, and I guess Mrs. Huntley hasn't any room to keep Christmas
in. I wonder what she does with the Christmas things Santa Claus
brings? I wonder if she throws 'em away? I mean to go and ask her;"
and putting her child carefully in its cradle, Mamie started.

There was some truth in what Mrs. Gaston had told her little daughter;
the Huntleys did not keep Christmas in a loving, hearty way. They kept
it in so far that on this very afternoon Mrs. Huntley was busy making
the mince pies, dressing the turkey, and doing all she could to be
beforehand with the extra Christmas dinner. Mr. Huntley had just
stepped into the kitchen for a moment to say to his wife, "What have
you settled on for Ned's Christmas?"

"I've bought him a pair of arctics--he needed 'em; and if you want to
spend more than common, you might get him half a dozen handkerchiefs."

"Well, wife, I was thinking that perhaps"--the farmer tried to be
particular about his words, for Mrs. Huntley did not seem in a very
good humor--"I was remembering how you used to enjoy giving the young
ones candies and toys; so, perhaps--"

"Now, Noah Huntley, I'm surprised at you! Buy candies and toys for a
great lumbering boy like Ned? Why, you must be crazy, man! The next
thing will be that you'll want a Christmas-tree yourself!"

"Well, and it wouldn't be a bad idea," thought the father. "There's
my man, Fritz, he has been to the woods and cut a little tree for his
children, and he seems to get a heap of pleasure out of it. Ah! if