he habit of some
friends of mine. In front of their home, down near the fence, is a
trim little cedar. T---- connects this with electric wires and hangs
on it gayly colored lamps. Every night for a week, until the new year,
these lights shine across the snow and are the delight of travelers on
the road. The Christmas stars, it seems, for this hallowed season
have come to earth.

We gave the family dinner. On my mother fell the extra labor, but we
took the general credit. All the morning the relatives arrived--thin
and fat. But if one of them bore a package or if his pockets sagged,
we showed him an excessive welcome. Sometimes there was a present
boxed and wrapped to a mighty bulk. From this we threw off thirty
papers and the bundle dwindled, still no gift appeared. In this lay
the sweetness of the jest, for finally, when the contents were
shriveled to a kernel, in the very heart of it there lay a bright
penny or common marble.

All this time certain savory whiffs have been blowing from the
kitchen. Twice at least my mother has put her head in at the door to
count the relatives. And now when the clock on the mantel strikes
two--a bronze Lincoln deliberating forever whether he will sign the
Emancipation Bill--the dining-room door is opened.

The table was drawn out to prodigious length and was obliquely set
across the room. As early as yesterday the extra leaves had been
brought from the pantry, and we had all taken part in fitting them
together. Not to disturb the larger preparation, our supper and
breakfast had been served in the kitchen. And even now to eat in the
kitchen, if the table is set before the window and there is a flurry
of snow outside, is to feel pleasantly the proximity of a great
occasion.

The Christmas table was so long and there were so many of us, that a
few of the chairs were caught in a jog of the wall and had no proper
approach except by crawling on hands and knees beneath it. Each year
it was customary to request my maiden aunt, a prim lady who bordered
on seventy and had limbs instead of legs, to undertake the passage.
Each year we listened for the jest and shouted with joy when the
request was made. There were other jests, too, that were dear to us
and grew better with the years. My aunt was reproved for boisterous
conduct, and although she sat as silent as a mouse, she was always
warned against the cider. Each year, also, as soon as the dessert
appeared, there was a demand that a certai