t frayed and on edge he jostled his
neighbor with a smile and took his share of jostling in good part. Was
not every man a brother; and did not a great throbbing kindliness
emanate from all humanity?

It seemed so to Carl McGregor as the wonderful day of days drew near;
and so also it seemed to all the wee McGregors. They were on tiptoe
with excitement and could hardly be made to stand still long enough to
have their neckties tied or their pinafores buttoned.

"Have you children decided yet what you want to do?" questioned their
mother one morning, as she struggled to hold the wriggling Tim until
his hair could be made presentable for school. "Christmas is but a week
away now and we must come to some decision as to our plans. We can't
have everything, you know. Shall it be a turkey and no tree? Or shall
it be a tree and no turkey? And if it is a tree shall it be a big or a
little one? We must vote on all these questions."

"I want ice-teem," lisped Nell.

"Mercy on us!" ejaculated Mrs. McGregor, in consternation, as this
fresh avenue for outlay presented itself. "Nell is for ice cream and a
tree too."

"And turkey!" went on the little one imperturbably. "Me wants turkey!"

"Ice-treem! Ice-treem!" cooed James Frederick.

The mother's face clouded. A tree, turkey, ice cream and presents were
far beyond the range of the family purse.

"I'd rather have stockings and turkey," Mary declared.

"And cranberry sauce and nuts," put in Tim.

"And celery and sweet potatoes," added Carl. "A real dinner, Mother."

"Would you rather do that than have the tree?"

Silence greeted the question.

Into every mind flashed the picture of a tree towering to the ceiling
and a-glitter with lights and ornaments. Even Carl, despite his
fourteen years, could not entirely banish the vision. But the dinner,
the dinner! After all the tree would only be a thing to look at; food
could be eaten and enjoyed, and Carl was a healthy boy at an age when
he was possessed of a particularly healthy appetite. Tempting as was
the tree the aroma of browned turkey rose in his nostrils.

"I vote for turkey," announced he at last.

"No tree? No Christmas tree?" murmured Martin, his lip quivering.

"You have a tree at kindergarten, silly, and so does Nell," declared
the elder brother quickly.

"'Tain't like having it here--our really own tree," bewailed Martin.

"Couldn't we have a simpler dinner, Mother, and manage to get a tree?"
interrogated M