“Beth, child, how could I think all that? There aren’t enough hyphens in my mind to string so many words together in my thoughts!” cried Aunt Alida. And, quite unashamed, she hugged Beth back again. CHAPTER XI KRIS KRINGLE’S JINGLES “It’s funny,” said Beth thoughtfully. “New York seemed to be doing all sorts of things when I came, and till now, and now it doesn’t seem to be doing anything else but get ready for Christmas.” “Those are not really automobile horns you hear; they are Kris Kringle’s jingles!” laughed Natalie, pausing with the slender tip of her small screw pencil on her lip. “What did Helen Van Voort send us last year, Nat?” asked Alys. Her brow was drawn by a vertical line of puzzle and her voice sounded worried. “I can’t remember whether she joined the C. C. C. or not, so I can’t tell whether to put her in the much or little column.” “She sent us each a flower pin, don’t you remember? You liked mine better than yours. They were good ones. She belongs in the muchies,” replied Natalie. Beth looked her curiosity over this cryptic conversation. Natalie saw the question in her eyes and laughed again. “The C. C. C.’s are a club of girls. The three C’s stand for Commonsense Christmas Contributions. I named it. It means that the members will not go above a dollar in buying Christmas presents. Some of the girls joined and some didn’t. I’ll tell you one thing: it sounds all right, and we did it because there is such a crowd of girls whom we all know that it runs up to a fearful sum to buy decent things for each one! Besides we know a few who are really nicer girls, come from better families, than some of the richer ones, yet who haven’t enough to spend to afford fine gifts all around. But you have to work so hard to think up things for a dollar, and then spend so much time chasing around shops to get them, that you really might as well spend more than a dollar--it costs more than money to get through. Alys and I gave it up; some of the girls hold on. It’s terrible to try to remember which are Three C’s and which aren’t! You must send little gifts to the members, of course, or they’ll be disgusted that you got something expensive for them, when you’re supposed to know they’re C’s.” Natalie reached the end of this lengthy explanation with relief. “But you have a long list!” cried Beth, glancing at the pad on which Natalie had been setting down names and at its counterpart on Alys’s knee. Only in a few cases had there been an article written down after a name and of these several had an interrogation mark after them, showing that these articles had not been finally decided upon. “About seventy-five, not counting the family and the servants!” cried Alys fretfully. “But at a dollar apiece--would that be little to spend for Christmas?” asked Beth. “Tell us about your Christmases, little Cozbeth,” said Natalie gently.