his crutch and called Jeb down to the gate:

"You got a good home now, Jeb."

"I shore have." Jeb's religious ecstasy had died down but he looked
content.

The parson was mounting his nag and Pleasant opened the gate for him.

"Hit's sort o' curious, parson," said Jeb, "but when you prayed that
prayer jes' afore I was about to battle with ye I begun to see the
errer o' my ways."

"The Lawd, Brother Mullins," said the parson, dryly but sincerely,
"moves in mysterious ways his wonders to perform." The two watched
him ride away.

"The new still will be hyeh next week," said Pleasant out of one corner
of his mouth. One solemn wink they exchanged and Pleasant Trouble swung
lightly off into the woods.

THE CHRISTMAS TREE ON PIGEON

The sun of Christmas poured golden blessings on Happy Valley first;
it leaped ten miles of intervening hills and shot winged shafts of
yellow light into the mouth of Pigeon; it darted awakening arrows
into the coves and hollows on the Head of Pigeon, between Brushy Ridge
and Pine Mountain; and one searching ray flashed through the open door
of the little log schoolhouse at the forks of Pigeon and played like
a smile over the waiting cedar that stood within--alone.

Down at the mines below, the young doctor had not waited the coming
of that sun. He had sprung from his bed at dawn, had built his own
fire, dressed hurriedly, and gone hurriedly on his rounds, leaving
a pill here, a powder there, and a word of good cheer everywhere.
That was his Christmas tree, the cedar in the little schoolhouse--his
and Hers. The Marquise of Queensberry, he called her--and she was
coming up from the Gap that day to dress that tree and spread the
joy of Christmas among mountain folks, to whom the joy of Christmas
was quite unknown.

An hour later the passing mail-carrier, from over Black Mountain,
stopped with switch uplifted at his office-door.

"Them fellers over the Ridge air comin' over to shoot up yo'
Christmas tree," he drawled.

The switch fell and he was gone. The young doctor dropped by his
fire--stunned; for just that thing had happened ten years before
to the only Christmas tree that had ever been heard of in those
immediate hills, except his own. Out of that very schoolhouse some
vandals from over Pine Mountain had driven the Pigeon Creek people
after a short fight, and while the surprised men, frightened women
and children, and the terrified teacher scurried to safety behind
rocks