rds, but she saw tears in the
gentle old lady's eyes and was afraid to ask more.

She accepted thankfully and with her nicest and best executed courtesy a
Christmas cooky representing a good-sized fish, with fins all spread and
pink sugar-plums for eyes, and went home marveling yet more about this
mystery of Christmas.

As she was crossing the green to go home the Poganuc stage drove in,
with Hiel seated on high, whipping up his horses to make them execute
that grand _entree_ which was the glory of his daily existence.

Now that the stage was on runners, and slipped noiselessly over the
smooth frozen plain, Hiel cracked his whip more energetically and
shouted louder, first to one horse then to another, to make up for the
loss of the rattling wheels; and he generally had the satisfaction of
seeing all the women rushing distractedly to doors and windows, and
imagined them saying, "There's Hiel; the stage is in!"

"Hulloa, Dolly!" he called out, drawing up with a suddenness which threw
the fore-horses back upon their haunches. "I've got a bundle for your
folks. Want to ride? You may jest jump up here by me and I'll take you
'round to your father's door;" and so Dolly reached up her little
red-mittened hand, and Hiel drew her up beside him.

"'Xpect ye want a bit of a ride, and I've got a bundle for Widder
Badger, down on South Street, so I guess I'll go 'round that way to make
it longer. I 'xpect this 'ere bundle is from some of your ma's folks in
Boston--'Piscopals they be and keeps Christmas. Good-sized bundle 'tis;
reckon it'll come handy in a good many ways."

So, after finishing his detour, Hiel landed his little charge at the
parsonage door.

"Reckon I'll be over when I've put up my hosses," he said to Nabby when
he handed down the bundle to her. "I hain't been to see you much lately,
Nabby, and I know you've been a-pinin' after me, but fact is--"

"Well, now, Hiel Jones, you jest shet up with your imperence," said
Nabby, with flashing eyes; "you jest look out or you'll get suthin."

"I 'xpect to get a kiss when I come 'round to-night," said Hiel,
composedly. "Take care o' that air bundle, now; mebbe there's glass or
crockery in't."

"Hiel Jones," said Nabby, "don't give me none o' your saace, for I won't
take it. Jim Sawin said last night you was the brassiest man he ever
see. He said there was brass enough in your face to make a kettle of."

"You tell him there's sap enough in his head to fill it, anywa