on't she be
breezy? She hasn't quite decided about her costume, but it is to
be of some gauzy stuff. I think Miss Lily will be Blue Sky and
White Clouds. She will be sweet in blue and white. Then there are
going to be lots of flowers and birds and all sorts of characters.
I wish you could be here! Can't you come across? What do you
think Blue says he is going to be? A hop-toad! Isn't that like
him! If he does he'll carry it out so he'll keep everybody
laughing. There is Patricia coming! I must say good-bye in a
hurry. Loads of love from us all.

Polly May Dudley.

P.S. Patricia has just gone. She brought some news. Doodles is
going to be soprano soloist in the boy choir at Trinity Church!
Isn't that worth while! Of course, it is Mr. Randolph's doing. He
is one of the head men there, and what he says, goes. He thinks
Doodles's singing is about right. So Nita will hear him every
Sunday. Mother says you'll have to stay home from school the day
you read this, for there won't be time for anything else. More
love from

Polly.

CHAPTER XXXVII

HOLLY AND MISTLETOE

June Holiday Home awoke early on the 24th of December, for
everybody--which means fifteen of the residents--was going to spend
the day with Mrs. Randolph. "From directly after breakfast until
midnight," the invitation ran, and the president's car was to be at
the Home by eight o'clock.

Such a profusion of curls and crimps, of new dresses and waists and
fichus, added to new shoes and hats and coats, would have shocked
the former superintendent of the Home; but Miss Churchill and Miss
Ely even offered their services in the putting on of frills and
furbelows, to the astonishment of those not yet grown familiar with
kindness.

Mrs. Post, being unable to walk, had at first considered herself as
entirely out of the fun; but Mrs. Randolph won the enduring love of
that eldest member of the Home circle by saying that she should
send an extra man with the chauffeur, so that Mrs. Post might have
no fears regarding her trip from Edgewood Avenue to Courtney Street.

The Randolph home looked a bower of Christmas greenery and blossoms
when the guests entered it that chill morning.

"My! isn't it beautiful!" cried Miss Crilly, sniffing the pungent,
woodsy odors. "Smells like you were right there!" She grasped her
hostess by the shoulders. "Now, solemn true! Aren't you the
happiest mortal on earth?"

Mrs. Randolph smiled, blushing