The girl held up a dainty white waist, but said never a word, for she recognized that Gail's patient fingers had re-fashioned for her one of the dear mother's hoarded treasures, and her heart was too full for utterance. "I've got some handkerchiefs," called Peace again, "and a ribbon--if I only had some hair to tie with it! It's too wide for a band, and that's all I can wear--here's an apple, a penwiper and some candy. You've got pretty nearly the same c'lection, haven't you, Cherry, and so have Hope and Allee. I wonder how Mrs. Grinnell happened to give me a hair-ribbon when she knows that my hair ain't long enough to tie back." "How do you know Mrs. Grinnell gave it to you?" demanded Gail, too astonished to reprove her. "I was in there one day when she had been to Martindale, and the ribbons happened to be on the table all unwrapped. This was one of them. Now, Gail, see what Santa Claus has brought you. There's at least one thing, 'cause--" Cherry clapped her hand over her younger sister's mouth, and began to giggle. So did Gail, when she drew forth from her stocking a bulky potato pig with toothpicks for legs, match-heads for eyes and a dry woodbine tendril for a tail. "Who in the world made that?" she laughed, tears close to the surface, for she had expected nothing this Christmas day. "Mr. Strong," gulped Peace, dancing with delight at her sister's evident surprise. "Look at his back! We put a saddle on the old porker. Isn't that cute? It's a spandy new dollar with this year's date on it. See?" Gail turned the curious animal over, and sure enough, there was a bright, shining Goddess of Liberty, skilfully sunk in the pig's potato back. Swallowing back the lump in her throat, which threatened to choke her, Gail whispered, "Where did you get it, dear? The money, I mean." "We took up a c'lection," was the startling answer. "A collection!" echoed Gail. "Yes. You know last Sunday was Home Mission day, and the money was to be sent to poor ministers' families on the pioneer--" "You mean frontier," corrected Hope.