ainst the glass. It was not a pleasant noise. The tame coon
prowled about under the table looking for crumbs. He walked very flat
and swaying and slow, as tho he were stuffed with wet sand. It gave him
a very captive look. His eyes were very bright.

Father got his violin and played some quivery tunes to us. Mother sang a
little. It was nice. Carol put fifteen "wishes" on the tree. Seven of
them, of course, were old ones about the camel. But all the rest were
new. He wished a salt mackerel for his coon. And a gold anklet for his
crow. He wouldn't tell what his other wishes were. They looked very
pretty! Fifteen silver buds as big as cones scattered all through the
green branches! Rosalee made seven violet-colored wishes! I made seven!
Mine were green! Father made three! His were blue! Mother's were red!
She made three, too! The tree looked more and more as tho rainbows had
rained on it! It was beautiful! We thanked mother very much for having a
Christmas-tree garden! We felt very thankful toward everybody! We got
sleepier and sleepier! We went to bed!

I woke in the night. It was very lonely. I crept down-stairs to get my
best story-book. There was a light in the parlor. There were voices. I
peeped in. It was my father and my mother. They were looking at the
Christmas tree. I got an awful shock. They were having what books call
"words" with each other. Only it was "sentences!"

"Impudent young cub!" said my father. "How _dared_ he stuff a
hundred-dollar bill into our Christmas tree?"

"Oh, I'm sure he didn't mean to be impudent," said my mother. Her voice
was very soft. "He heard the children telling about Uncle Charlie's gold
piece. He--he wanted to do something--I suppose. It was too much, of
course. He oughtn't to have done it. But----"

"A hundred-dollar bill!" said my father. Every time he said it he seemed
madder.

"And yet," said my mother, "if what you say about his father's sugar
plantations is correct, a hundred-dollar bill probably didn't look any
larger to him than a--than a two-dollar bill looks to us--this year.
We'll simply return it to him very politely--as soon as we know his
address. He was going West somewhere, wasn't he? We shall hear, I
suppose."

"Hear _nothing_!" said my father. "I won't have it! Did you see how he
stared at Rosalee? It was outrageous! Absolutely outrageous! And
Rosalee? I was ashamed of Rosalee! Positively ashamed!"

"But you see--it was really the first young man that R