Jenny had not had enough to eat that day.

There was a pinched look on the little face up-turned towards Earl
Munroe's.

Earl's words gained authority by coming from himself. Jenny had always
regarded him with awe and admiration. It was much that he should speak
at all to her.

Earl Munroe was quite the king of this little district school. He was
the son of the wealthiest man in town. No other boy was so well dressed,
so gently bred, so luxuriously lodged and fed. Earl himself realized his
importance, and had at times the loftiness of a young prince in his
manner. Occasionally, some independent urchin would bristle with
democratic spirit, and tell him to his face that he was "stuck up," and
that he hadn't so much more to be proud of than other folks; that his
grandfather wasn't anything but an old ragman!

Then Earl would wilt. Arrogance in a free country is likely to have an
unstable foundation. Earl tottered at the mention of his paternal
grandfather, who had given the first impetus to the family fortune by
driving a tin-cart about the country. Moreover, the boy was really
pleasant and generous hearted, and had no mind, in the long run, for
lonely state and disagreeable haughtiness. He enjoyed being lordly once
in a while, that was all.

He did now, with Jenny--he eyed her with a gay condescension, which
would have greatly amused his tin-peddler grandfather.

Soon the bell rung, and they all filed to their seats, and the lessons
were begun.

After school was done that night, Earl stood in the door when Jenny
passed out.

"Say, Jenny," he called, "when are you going over on the mountain to
find the Christmas-tree? You'd better go pretty soon, or they'll be
gone."

"That's so!" chimed in one of the girls. "You'd better go right off,
Jenny."

She passed along, her face shyly dimpling with her little innocent
smile, and said nothing. She would never talk much.

She had quite a long walk to her home. Presently, as she was pushing
weakly through the new snow, Earl went flying past her in his father's
sleigh, with the black horses and the fur-capped coachman. He never
thought of asking her to ride. If he had, he would not have hesitated a
second before doing so.

Jenny, as she waded along, could see the mountain always before her.
This road led straight to it, then turned and wound around its base. It
had stopped snowing, and the sun was setting clear. The great white
mountain was all rosy. It stood opposite