“Mercy, Jim!” Mrs. Cortlandt cried as her husband opened his newspaper. “I suppose I knew in a vague way that this was the tenth day of December, but I haven’t taken in the fact in connection with Christmas! Children, we must make out our lists to-day; there are but two little weeks left! How has it happened?” “I’ve made mine,” said Natalie, “and Alys has nearly finished hers. We found out last night that it was dreadfully late.” “Bethie, you never did real Christmas shopping, did you?” Mrs. Cortlandt said. “It’s fun, no matter what the papers and magazines say about it--though of course one does go to bed each night of the final days feeling that she can’t possibly resume shopping in the morning! But one always can! Have you made out your list of friends you will remember?” Beth shook her head. “No, Aunt Alida,” she said. “There’s the beautiful miniature of me you’ve had made for Aunt Rebecca. I thought maybe I’d make Aunt Rebecca a pincushion for her spare room; it’s shabby--I mean the one she has now is--and I’d like to make something for Janie and four other girls, only I don’t know what to make.” Beth’s brow wrinkled; her eyes looked troubled. She, for one, had fully realized that ten days of December had fled and that she did not know how to prepare for Christmas in her new surroundings. What, for instance, could she make for this, her recently discovered family? They all had more than she could possibly have imagined. Beth’s fingers were not skilful at fancy work, but buying gifts, and gifts for people so endowed--she would never be rich enough to do this, even if she could think of anything to buy. “Are you old-fashioned about Christmas, too, Bethie? Do you feel that you must put part of your own strength and time into your gifts, not buy them?” asked Aunt Alida. “I have a suspicion that Janie and the four others would rather have a pretty bit of jewelry to wear than anything you could make. Girls all love rings and bangles and chains and dangles.” Uncle Jim had been listening behind the outspread page of his morning _Sun_. Uncle Jim had a habit of hearing when one thought him otherwise occupied, and of being interested in problems that one would not have expected a grown man to understand. That was the main reason why Uncle Jim was so lovable. Now he emerged from his paper and looked around its edge at Aunt Alida. “I believe I forgot to say that Beth has a Christmas account to draw upon,” he said carelessly, as if Beth were not within hearing. “Santa Claus deposited a hundred dollars in my hands for her. She will find it in your care, Alida; I might not be near by when she wanted to draw upon it. Santa said he did not approve of our buying gifts to be given in Beth’s name; he said he wanted her to do her own deciding and buying so he handed over to me for her use the sum I mention. I forgot to speak of this before.” “Oh, Uncle Jim!” cried Beth, as she always did at each new instance of her uncle’s generous thought of her.