indows our relighted lamps called to the world that the Garland
household was about to reassemble and the author permitted himself to
straighten up. Changing to my city garments I took the train for
Chicago, promising to bring the children with me when our Thanksgiving
turkey was fatted for the fire.

My daughters listened eagerly to my tale of the new house, but expressed
a fear of sleeping in it. This fear I determined to expel.

On the Saturday before Thanksgiving I rejoined my workmen, finding the
house in a worse state of disarray than when I had last seen it. The
floors were littered with dust and shavings, and in the dining-room my
father, deeply discouraged, was gloomily cooking his breakfast on an
oil stove set in the middle of the floor. "It'll take another month to
finish the job," he said.

"Oh, no it won't," I replied. "It won't take a week."

Fortunately the stain on the floor was dry and with the aid of two good
men I finished the woodwork and beat the rugs. In a couple of days the
lower house was livable.

On Wednesday at five o'clock I went to the train, leaving the electric
lights all ablaze and the fire snapping in the chimney. It looked
amazingly comfortable, restored, settled, and I was confident the
children would respond to its cheer.

"Is it all made new?" they asked wistfully.

"Wait and see!" I confidently replied.

The night was cold and dark but as they neared the old house its windows
winked a cheery welcome. "Why, it looks just as it used to!" exclaimed
Mary Isabel.

"There are lights in our room!" exclaimed Constance.

"Run ahead, and knock," I urged.

She hung back. "I'm afraid," she said.

"So am I," echoed Connie.

The new metal roof gleaming like frost interested them as they entered
the gate.

"Why, the porch is all here!" shouted Constance.

"But the screens are off," commented Mary Isabel.

"Knock!" I commanded.

Reaching up to the shining old brass knocker she banged it sharply.

The house awoke! White-haired old father came to the door and, first of
all, the children sprang to his arms.

Then as they looked around they shouted with joy. "Why, it's just as it
was--only nicer," was their verdict.

While Zulime looked keenly and smilingly around, Connie ran from settee
to bookcase. "Everything is here--our books, the fireplace."

"Isn't it wonderful!" Mary Isabel exclaimed.

After greeting father Zulime surveyed the result of my six weeks' toil
with criti