rything; so they emptied out
their stockings on the floor and ate some of the presents and looked at
the others, until they almost forgot about breakfast, just as children
do on Christmas morning.

Then Mr. Crow said, all at once, that he'd make a little coffee, and
that Mr. Dog must stay and have some, and by and by they made him
promise to spend the day with them and be there when the Robin and the
Squirrel and Mr. Turtle and Jack Rabbit came, which he did.

[Illustration]

And it was snowing hard outside, which made it a nicer Christmas than if
it hadn't been, and when all the others came they brought presents, too.
And when they saw Mr. Dog dressed up as Santa Claus and heard how he'd
gone to sleep and been caught, they laughed and laughed. And it snowed
so hard that they had to stay all night, and after dinner they sat
around the fire and told stories. And they had to stay the next night,
too, and all that Christmas week. And I wish I could tell you all that
happened that week, but I can't, because I haven't time. But it was the
very nicest Christmas that ever was in the Hollow Tree, or in the Big
Deep Woods anywhere.

And this, said the Story Teller, is the very last Hollow Tree story, and
there will be no more, for they all came out through Mr. Dog, and Mr.
Dog has gone away now into that Far Land of Evening where all good dogs
go to when they get very, very old. He was friends with the Hollow Tree
people to the last, and when he got too old to visit them, they used to
come to see him, sometimes at night, when Mr. Man was asleep. And when
Mr. Dog went away on his long journey beyond the sunset they were all so
sorry, for they knew that no other Mr. Dog would ever be friends with
them, and they were very sad in the Hollow Tree for a long time.

Then here's goodby to the old black Crow,
And the rest, with a one, two, three!
And here's goodby to the Hollow, Hollow, Hollow--
Good-by to the Hollow Tree.

GOOD-BYE TO THE LITTLE LADY

WHAT SHE WISHES AND WHAT THE STORY TELLER SAYS

The Little Lady looks into the fire thoughtfully.

"And isn't there any more about the Hollow Tree?" she says at last.

The Story Teller looks into the fire, too.

"I'm afraid not," he answers.

"And won't you never know any more? Not ever--in a thousand days?"

"I--no, I'm afraid not."

"I wish we lived in a Hollow Tree," says the Little Lady.

From the House of Many Windows the Story Teller looks down