for Christmas just as we used to in New York State. I'll take the
spring waggon and the ponies, and we'll go--you and I--all alone, and
bring home lots of greens, all cut off in short branches."

"You forget," his mother said, "that your cousin is not used to
riding in spring waggons over rough roads, and ten miles will be a
long drive for her."

"There are some red berries there, too," went on Harry, as if he had
not heard the objections, "and moss, and long vines that the frost
hasn't found yet; besides it's a grand day to ride."

"You dear boy," said Vida, "I'll go for half of the inducements you
offer." She was only too glad to fall in with any plan that diverted
her sad thoughts.

The drive lay for a long distance through the lovely open country,
the grass in many parts still green as in midsummer, and over all
the perpetual sunshine of that region. A soft golden light that even
in mid-winter glorifies the commonest object; bright skies, balmy
air, and her lively companion, cheered even Vida's drooping spirits.

Arrived in the woods, Harry ran here and there with joyful
enthusiasm, now climbing a tree like a squirrel, then darting into a
thicket for mosses. They loaded the waggon with green boughs and
filled their basket with treasures of moss and lichens, and the
gay-plumed birds flitted about with hospitable little chirps,
welcoming their visitors to their bowers of green. As each became
more intent in adding to their store they became separated. Vida was
a little distance behind a low, thick growth of trees, disentangling