s, and
I haven't had women drop brown-paper bundles that come undone all over
me when they crowd into the horse car, and I haven't found it impossible
to get to the shirt-collar counter on account of Christmas novelties!
Oh, no, I didn't know it was Christmas!"

After that there was really not much to be said, for we all know
Christmas is dreadfully annoying, and the last thing a man in this sort
of temper wants to hear about is peace and good will.

Notwithstanding the fact that Mrs. Gilton looked over to her neighbors'
with an envious feeling this dark afternoon, their Christmas cheer was
not so abounding as it had been in more prosperous times. There was not
very much money to be spent this year, and they were obliged to give up
something. Mr. and Mrs. Bilton had decided that it should be the
Christmas dinner; they would have a simple luncheon, and let all the
money that could be spared go for the stockings. Each child had its own
sum to invest for others, and there was still a small amount for the
older members of the family. That it was a small amount Mrs. Bilton felt
strongly, as she went from shop to shop. But when she reached home again
she was somewhat encouraged; there was such an air of joyous expectation
in the house, and her purchases looked larger now that they were away
from the glittering counters. Then each of the five children came to her
separately and confided to her the nothing less than wonderful results
of judicious bargaining which had enabled them to buy useful and
beautiful presents for each of the others out of the sums intrusted to
their care, ranging in amount from the two dollars of John to the fifty
cents of Cora Cordelia. She felt sure that there were further secrets
yet; secrets attended by brown paper and string, which she had taken the
greatest care for the last two weeks not heedlessly to expose,--riddles
of which the solution lay perilously near her eyes, which would be
revealed to her astonished gaze the next morning.

She had reason to believe that even Cora Cordelia was making something
for her, and though it was difficult for her to ignore the fact that it
was a knit washcloth, she had hitherto avoided absolute certainty on the
subject. So that altogether it was a pretty cheerful afternoon at the
Biltons'.

Meanwhile, down in the main street of the city it was a confusing scene.
It was darker there than where the streets were more open; and although
there were several daring