she became to the whole school,--the mascot of the second floor.
At one time this title would have been an added affliction to her
over-sensitive nature, but Tabitha was growing wise, and was learning
that people do not care how ugly one's name may be, if the heart is good
and beautiful. True, she had not ceased to mourn because other girls
were blessed with the pretty names which had been denied her, but she
was beginning to understand the sentiment:

"Laugh, and the world laughs with you,
Weep, and you weep alone;
For the poor old earth has to borrow its mirth,
It has troubles enough of its own."

CHAPTER XVI

MADAME'S ADVICE

One bright, warm, November day--for such days are the usual order in
sunny California--Tabitha stood at the little window in one end of the
long corridor, looking disconsolately down into the garden, shimmering
in its rain-washed greenness, and thinking of the approaching holidays
and her own slender purse. The other girls were making such elaborate
gifts for each other, to say nothing of the beautiful things laid by for
the home folks and friends, and she felt keenly the fact that she would
have so little to offer. To be sure, there were few to remember outside
the school circle of girls and teachers, but she longed as never before
to do as the others did and have what they had.

"Oh, dear," she sighed, "it's hard to be pinched _all_ the time! I wish
I could have as much money to spend as even Mercedes has, and that isn't
a great deal, either. Here I have only five dollars for Christmas, and
there are about twenty girls, who, I know, are going to give me
something, besides the other people I want to remember--Tom and the
Vanes and Carrie's mother and father. They are always giving me
something beautiful, and I never have anything for them but home-made
candy. There is Aunt Maria, too. I would like to send her a little
something so she won't think I have forgotten her; and then--Dad--but he
won't expect anything or care. I don't suppose he will even remember
that it is Christmas. Oh, hum! I wish there wasn't such a a day!"

"Such a day as what?" asked a soft, sweet voice behind her, and an arm
crept gently, almost shyly around her waist.

"Oh, Madame DuBois!" cried the startled girl, looking up into the
winning brown eyes of the little French teacher. "Did you hear what I
said? I was wishing there was no Christmas Day."

"No Christmas Day!" echoed the sc