ow
morning. These two little packages are for your father and Mr. Roland,
and all the rest is for Charlie."

"He will be the happiest boy in Sanford," said Constance, her own face
radiant. "He never dreamed of a Christmas like this."

"Can we begin now?" asked Marjorie. "I'm so impatient to see how this
wagon will look when we get it fixed."

"Wait a minute." Constance disappeared through the door leading into the
kitchen, returning with one arm piled high with evergreens, the other
wound around a small balsam tree.

"Lawrence Armitage brought me this yesterday," she explained. "A party
of boys went to the woods to cut down Christmas trees. He brought me
this cunning little tree and all this ground pine and holly. Wasn't it
nice in him?"

"Perfectly dear," agreed Marjorie. "I wonder if there is enough popcorn
for the tree, too. I have a lot of little ornaments and candles at home.
It won't take long to go there and back." She reached for her hat and
coat as she spoke and in spite of Constance's protests was soon speeding
home after the required decorations.

"I made good time, didn't I?" she observed, as half an hour later she
burst into the Stevens' living-room without knocking.

Then the work of making one small boy's Christmas merry was begun in
earnest. An hour later the sturdy baby balsam stood loaded with its crop
of strange fruit, and the faithful, rickety wagon, whose imperfections
were quite hidden beneath trails of thick, fragrant ground pine and
sprays of flame-berried holly, looked as though it had received a
visitation from the fairies. A diminutive black leather violin case,
encircled with a wreath of ground pine and tied with a huge red bow,
leaned against one wheel of the magic vehicle, and the cunning chair
with its absurd little arms and leather cushion was also twined with
green.

"It's too lovely for words," breathed Constance, her admiring gaze
fastened upon the once dingy corner now bright with the flowers of love
and generosity, which had bloomed in all shapes and sizes of packages to
gladden one youngster's heart.

"I wish I could be here when first he sees it," commented Marjorie.
"I'll be fast asleep then, for he told me that Mr. Roland promised to
call him very early."

"He proposed staying up all night, but I was not enthusiastic over that
plan," laughed Constance.

"I must go," decided Marjorie. "The hands of that clock fairly fly
around the dial. I'm sure I just came and yet