d added to the
season's charm.

There was another feature of the work of preparation in which all were
glad to take part, the gathering of the evergreens--red-berried holly,
mistletoe with its glistening pearls, ground-pine, moss, and other wood
treasures--for the decoration of parlor, hall, and dining-room, and,
above all, of the old village church, a gleeful labor in which the whole
neighborhood took part, and helpers came from miles away. Young men and
blooming maidens alike joined in, some as artists in decoration, others
as busy workers, and all as merry aids.

Days rolled on while all this was being done,--the wood chopped and
heaped away in the wood-sheds and under the back portico; the church and
house made as green as spring-tide with their abundant decorations,
tastefully arranged in wreaths and folds and circles, with the great
green "Merrie Christmas" welcoming all comers from over the high parlor
mantel. All was finished in ample time before the day of Christmas Eve
arrived, though there were dozens of final touches still to be made,
last happy thoughts that had to be worked out in green, red, or white.

On that same day came the finish which all had wished but scarcely dared
hoped for, a fleecy fall of snow that drifted in feathery particles down
through the still atmosphere, and covered the ground with an inch-deep
carpet of white. I well remember old Delmar, with his wrinkled, kindly
face and abundant white hair, and his "By Jove, isn't that just the
thing!" as he stood on the porch and looked with boyish glee at the
fast-falling flakes. And I remember as well his sweet-faced wife, small,
delicate, yet still pretty in her old age, and placidly sharing his
enjoyment of the spectacle, rare enough in that climate, in spite of the
tradition that a freeze and a snow-fall always came with the Christmas
season.

Christmas Eve! That was a time indeed! Parlor and hall, porch and
wood-shed, all were well enough in their way, but out in the kitchen
busy things were going on without which the whole festival would have
been sadly incomplete. The stoves were heaped with hickory and glowing
with ardent heat, their ovens crammed full of toothsome preparations,
while about the tables and shelves clustered the mistress of the place
and her regiment of special assistants, many of them famous for their
skill in some branch of culinary art, their glistening faces and shining
teeth testifying to their pride in their one s