r riding lions a-horseback, bold as
brass, filled one long room, like a regiment of military trainers. Then
there were chandeliers of glass, in which no end of rainbows seemed to
be tangled; dishes of sparkling glass, set in a frostwork of silver or
gold, and--I may as well stop; no genius could give you an idea of the
gorgeous things it was my privilege to see in those long rooms.

When we had wandered upstairs and downstairs again, Cousin E. E. stopped
at one of the counters, and wanted to look at some rings. As for me I
wanted to look at everything. What was one ring compared to whole stars,
and bands, and clusters of shiny, white stones, that seemed to have been
dug out of a rainbow--all mixed up with other stones, red as blood,
green as spring grass, blue as the sky, and white as snow-crust. Why,
sisters, that counter was just one bed of burning sunshine. It dazzled
my eyes so that I can hardly remember anything distinct enough to
describe it to you.

Well, Cousin E. E. bought her ring, which had a green stone set in it. I
saw her hand a lot of money over the counter to pay for it, which riled
my conscience a little; but I said nothing, the money being hers, not
mine; still, how much good it might have done some missionary society.

Well, out of this store of gorgeousness we went, and got into the
carriage again.

Cousin E. E. said she had bought so many things that this was about the
last place she had to go to, and, as it was getting pretty near dark, I
must go home with her and help fill up the Christmas tree. Cecilia would
be dreadfully disappointed if it was not splendid, and they all thought
so much of my taste.

I made no objections; why should I? Christmas Day in a boarding-house
isn't full of ravishing promises, so I just snuggled down into the white
fur again, and let the fellow with bear-skin claws drive me where he had
a mind to.

XVI.

THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS.

Oh, sisters! there is something touching and splendid in a Christmas
tree. Just fancy one of our mountain spruces, towering almost to the
ceiling of a room, green as when it was cut from the woods. Think of
this tree, hung all over with little wax candles, bunches of pale-green
and purple grapes, teinty red apples, golden horns and baskets chuck
full of sugar things. Stuffed humming-birds, looking chipper as life.
Butterflies, that seem to be flying through the green of the trees, and
a whole camp-meeting of dolls sitting ar