just the same," said Mun Bun, who might have
liked the house better if he had found it himself.

"We don't need a door. We want it open so the big folks can see our tree
when we get it trimmed."

"Where is the tree?" demanded the still doubtful little boy.

"Now, Mun Bun!" exclaimed Margy, "do you want to play at fixing this
Christmas tree, or don't you?"

"Oh, yes," said Mun Bun, who did not really want to be left out of any
fun, even if he did not think of it first himself. "Show me the tree,
Margy."

"Of course I will," said his sister. "You must help me get it and carry
it in here."

"Come on," urged the little boy. "Let's."

So then Margy showed him where the tree she had found stood in a green
tub outside the door of a small house that was almost all glass. The
lower panes of glass in this house were whitewashed, so the children
could not see what was in it; but this tree with its thick, glossy
leaves seemed to have been left out for anybody to take who wanted it.

They had to tug pretty hard to get the tree out of the tub. As Margy
said, they didn't want the tub anyway, for it would take up too much
room. And they were not strong enough to move it.

But they got the tree uprooted, and then were able to carry it to the
little house that Margy had selected as their own private dwelling for
the play celebration.

By dragging the tree inside, roots first, they managed to get it in
without breaking off any of the glossy leaves. They stood it upright and
made it steady by placing some bricks that they found about the roots.
Its top reached the roof of the little house.

They begged some broken wreaths and chains of evergreen and even a
spray of mistletoe with berries on it. The workmen were very kind to the
smallest Bunkers. Mun Bun grew quite as excited and enthusiastic as
Margy. They worked hard to trim that tree.

"But it hasn't any lights," said Mun Bun sadly. "And that other
Christmas tree had lights."

You see, he remembered very clearly about that. And when Mun Bun played
he always wanted the play to be as real as possible.

"We'll get candles," declared Margy. "I saw candles in the kitchen house
where that nice cook lives. Let's go and ask her."

But just as they were going to squeeze out of the low door of the little
house they heard a great shouting and calling, and then suddenly the
snapping of explosive crackers--fire crackers--began!

"Oh!" gasped Mun Bun. "Who's shootin'?"

"It's fir