und herself slumping soggily on a great teetering
pile of books, staring down as best she might through the Bengal
Tiger's ear at the weirdest assemblage of animals which any domestic
cat of her acquaintance had ever been forced to contemplate.

Coincidental with the appearance of the Cat a faint thrill passed
through the rest of the company.... Nothing very much! No more, no
less indeed, than passes through any company at the introduction of
purely extraneous matter. From the empty plate which she had
commandeered as a temporary pillow the Yellow Canary lifted an
interrogative beak.... That was all! At Flame's left, the White-Haired
Rabbit emitted an incongruous bark.... Scarcely worth reporting!
Across the table the Giraffe thumped a white, plumy tail. Thoughtfully
the Parrot's hooked nose slanted slightly to one side.

"Oh, I wish Bertrand would come!" fretted Flame. "Maybe this time
he'll notice my 'Christmas Crossing' sign!" she chuckled with sudden
triumph. "Talk about surprises!" Very diplomatically as she spoke she
broke another doughnut in two and drew all the dogs' attention to
herself. Almost hysterical with amusement she surveyed the scene
before her. "Well, at least we can have 'grace' before the Preacher
comes!" she laughed. A step on the gravel walk startled her suddenly.
In a flash she had jerked down the blind-folding handkerchief across
her eyes again, and folding her hands and the doughnut before her
burst softly into paraphrase.

'Now we--sit us down to eat
Thrice our share of Flesh and Sweet.
If we should burst before we're through,
Oh what in--Dogdom shall we do?'

Thus it was that the Master of the House, returning unexpectedly to
his unfamiliar domicile, stumbled upon a scene that might have shaken
the reason of a less sober young man.

Startled first by the unwonted illumination from his kitchen windows,
and second by the unprecedented aroma of Fir Balsam that greeted him
even through the key-hole of his new front door, his feelings may well
be imagined when groping through the dingy hall he first beheld the
gallows-like structure reared in the kitchen doorway.

"My God!" he ejaculated, "Barrett is getting ready to hang himself!
Gone mad probably--or something!"

Curdled with horror he forced himself to the object, only to note with
convulsive relief but increasing bewilderment the cheerful phrasing
and ultimate intent of the structure itself. "'Christmas Crossing'?"
he