be, starve, before that
time. But Jack found out. He was going to school that winter, and one
learns so much at school! He came home one night brimful of the news
that Christmas would be there in three weeks, and that Santa Claus
would come down chimneys and say, "I wish you Merry Christmas!" and
then put lots of nice things in all the stockings.

Mrs. Boyd heard him talking, and was glad the children were enjoying
themselves, but hoped from her heart that they wouldn't expect
anything, only to be bitterly disappointed. Most of that evening little
Janey, the youngest girl, sat singing:

"Wis' you Melly Kitsmas!
Wis' you Melly Kitsmas!"

in a quaint, little minor key, that wasn't plaintive enough to be sad,
nor merry enough to be jolly, but only a sweet monotony of sounds and
words showing that she was contented, and didn't feel any of the
dreadful aches and pains which sometimes distressed her so.

For a week, Jack wondered and mused within himself how he could get
something for Christmas presents for his little sisters. He couldn't
make anything at home without their seeing it, nor at school without
the teacher's seeing it, or else the big boys plaguing him about it.
Besides, he would rather buy something pretty, such as they had never
seen before--china dolls in pink dresses, or something of that kind.
One morning, however, Jack discovered some quail-tracks in the snow
near the straw-stack, and he no longer wondered about ways and means,
but in a moment was awake to the importance of this discovery. That
very evening he made a wooden trap, and the next morning early set it
near the stack, and laid an inviting train of wheat quite up to it, and
scattered a little inside. He told his sisters, Mary and Janey, about
the trap, but not about what he meant to do with the quails when he
caught them. That afternoon Jack went to his trap, and to his unbounded
joy found an imprisoned quail, frozen quite stiff. He quickly set the
trap again, and ran to the house with his bird. All that evening he
worked at quail-traps and made three more.

It was so much warmer that their mother let the children stay up a
little later than usual; and Mary ventured to bring out her playthings
and Janey's. These were two dolls, some bits of broken dishes, and a
few little pine blocks. Mary watched her mother's face until she was
sure she was "feeling good," before she ventured to begin a play,
because on days when mother was very