would be worth celebrating for its sake alone.

As great secrecy is observed, the preparations devolve entirely on me,
and it is not very easy work, with so many people in our own house and
on each of the farms, and all the children, big and little, expecting
their share of happiness. The library is uninhabitable for several days
before and after, as it is there that we have the trees and presents.
All down one side are the trees, and the other three sides are lined
with tables, a separate one for each person in the house. When the
trees are lighted, and stand in their radiance shining down on the happy
faces, I forget all the trouble it has been, and the number of times I
have had to run up and down stairs, and the various aches in head
and feet, and enjoy myself as much as anybody. First the June baby is
ushered in, then the others and ourselves according to age, then
the servants, then come the head inspector and his family, the other
inspectors from the different farms, the mamsells, the bookkeepers and
secretaries, and then all the children, troops and troops of them--the
big ones leading the little ones by the hand and carrying the babies in
their arms, and the mothers peeping round the door. As many as can get
in stand in front of the trees, and sing two or three carols; then they
are given their presents, and go off triumphantly, making room for the
next batch. My three babies sang lustily too, whether they happened to
know what was being sung or not. They had on white dresses in honour
of the occasion, and the June baby was even arrayed in a low-necked and
short-sleeved garment, after the manner of Teutonic infants,
whatever the state of the thermometer. Her arms are like miniature
prize-fighter's arms--I never saw such things; they are the pride and
joy of her little nurse, who had tied them up with blue ribbons, and
kept on kissing them. I shall certainly not be able to take her to balls
when she grows up, if she goes on having arms like that.

When they came to say good-night, they were all very pale and subdued.
The April baby had an exhausted-looking Japanese doll with her, which
she said she was taking to bed, not because she liked him, but because
she was so sorry for him, he seemed so very tired. They kissed me
absently, and went away, only the April baby glancing at the trees as
she passed and making them a curtesy.

"Good-bye, trees," I heard her say; and then she made the Japanese doll
bow to them