t formed a sorrowful
group about an old box in which were two or three simple plants frozen
and yellow. Mrs. Hunt was frying pork over the hot stove. As she looked
up at Pete, he noticed that she had been crying.

Jeff was the very prince of hosts. He made haste to make Pete feel at
home.

"Set by, Injun. So the boys is goin' ter kinder cellybrate ter-morrer,
be they?"

But Pete felt that his mission must not be disclosed. "What matter is
with kids?" he asked, to change the subject.

"Oh, they're jest a-yellin' about them flowers," explained Jeff. "Ye see
they hev been a-trainin' some posies indoors against ter-morrer, ye
know. Ter-morrer's Christmas, ye see, an' them kids they hed an idee
they'd hev some flowers fer ter dekerate thet corner where the little
gal is. Little gals, when they ain't well, like sech things, ye know."

Pete nodded. He was not aware of this love of diminutive females, but it
would not show very good breeding to appear ignorant.

"Wall, ye see," continued Jeff, "they kep the flowers away from the
little gal, meanin' ter s'prise her like. But jest this afternoon they
gut ketched by the frost, an' now there they be stiffer'n stakes. It is
kinder bad, ain't it--'specially ez it's Christmas, too?"

"What Crissmus?" put in Pete.

"Oh, Christmas? Wall, it's a sorter _day_ like. It's somethin' like
other days, an' yet it ain't. But then, Injun, I don't s'pose ye would
understand ef I wuz ter tell ye." And Jeff concealed his own ignorance,
as many wiser and better men have done, by assuming a tone too lofty for
his audience.

But Mrs. Hunt could explain, even if Jeff could not. She paused on the
way to the stove with a dish of pork in her hand.

"It eez the day of the good Lord, Meester Shivershee. It eez the day
when the good Lord He was born, and when all people should be glad." But
the little woman belied her own creed as she thought of little Marie and
the dead flowers.

I hardly think Pete gained a very clear idea of the day, even from Mrs.
Hunt's explanation. It was, I fear, all Greek to him.

"What flowers fer?" he asked, as, in response to Jeff's polite
invitation, he "sat by" and began supper.

"Wall, it's a sorter idee of the wimmin," explained Jeff. "Looks kinder
pooty to see flowers round; ye see, kinder slicks up a room like. All
these things hez ter come inter keepin' house, ye see, Injun." With
which broad explanation Jeff helped himself to a piece of pork.

But Mrs. Hun