for
I have made up my mind to one thing. I shall never work for a living."

And she strode off through the pine woods with her chin in the air, as
if she were defying all the powers in heaven to make her change this
resolution.

Molly shivered as she knelt to clip the holly. She seemed to see a
picture of a tiny little Judith standing in the middle of a vast,
endless plain raging and shaking her fists at--what? The empty air. She
sighed.

"I don't suppose I could ever make her understand that she'd be lots
happier if she'd just let go and stop thinking that God has a grudge
against her."

CHAPTER XVII.

A CHRISTMAS SURPRISE.

At six o'clock that evening a mouse's tail brushed Molly's door.

"Come in, little one," called Molly, recognizing Otoyo's tap. "My, how
dressed up you are!" she cried as the little Japanese appeared in the
doorway blushing and hesitating.

"You like it? This is real American young lady's toilet. It came from a
greatly big store in New York."

Molly felt a real regret sometimes in correcting Otoyo's funny English.
Was not the Brown family careful for many years to call bears "b'ars"
just because the youngest brother said it when he was a little child?

"But why did you wear your pink cashmere this evening, dear?" she
asked.

"Ah, but this is a holidee. In Japan we wear always best on holidee."

"Then I must dress up, too, I suppose," remarked Molly, sighing, "and I
had thought to let myself off easy to-night, Otoyo. But I couldn't
appear before Mrs. Murphy in this old garment and you so resplendent.
What shall I wear, chicken?" she asked, pinching Otoyo's cheek.

"The dress of sky blue."

"What, my last year's best?" laughed Molly. "My lady, you ask too much.
I must preserve that for year after next best. But, seeing that you are
doing honor to this happy occasion, Miss Sen, I'll wear it to please
you."

She soon attired herself in the blue crepe de chine over which she and
Nance had labored so industriously the winter before.

The two girls strolled downstairs together and at the first landing
Molly began sniffing the air.

"'If my ole nose don't tell no lies,
It 'pears like I smells custard pies,'"

she remarked smiling.

"It's meence," said Otoyo.

Molly squeezed the little Japanese's plump waist.

"Yes, I know it's 'meence,'" she said, "but custard pies stand for mince
and turkey and baked macaroni and all sorts of good things. We'll soon
find out