Amos was glad. Plodding sadly home, he was greeted by three glowing faces in the open door as soon as his foot sounded on the porch. The base burner in the living-room was clear and glowing. The dining-room was fragrant with pine. He was not allowed to take off his overcoat, but was towed to the kitchen where the two birds, trussed and stuffed for the baking, were set forth on the table. "I got 'em!" shouted Lydia. "I got 'em off Billy Norton for a load of pine. Christmas present for you, Daddy, from yours truly, Lydia!" She seized the baby's hands and the two did a dance round Amos, shouting, "Christmas present! Christmas present!" at the top of their lungs. "Well! Well!" exclaimed Amos. "Isn't that fine! If Levine comes out to-morrow we can ask him to dinner, after all. Can't we, Lizzie?" "You bet we can!" said Lizzie. "And look at this. I was going to keep it for a surprise. I made it by your wife's recipe." She held an open Mason jar under Amos' nose. "Mince meat!" he exclaimed. "Why, Lizzie, where'd you get the makings?" "Oh, a bit here and a bit there for the last two months. Ain't it grand?" offering a smell to each of the children, who sniffed ecstatically. When the baby was safely asleep, Lydia appeared with two stockings which she hung on chair backs by the stove in the living-room. "I'm putting them up to hold the candy," she explained to her father, suggestively. He rose obediently and produced half a dozen oranges and a bag of candy. "Oh, that's gorgeous," cried Lydia, whose spirits to-night were not to be quenched. She brought in the doll house. "See, Daddy," she said, with the pride of the master builder. "I colored it with walnut juice. And I found the wall paper in the attic." Amos got down on his knees and examined the tiny rooms and the cigar box furniture. He chuckled delightedly. "I swan," he said, "if Patience doesn't want it you can give it to me!" "I'm going to let Lizzie put the candy in the stockings," mused Lydia, "then I'll have that to look forward to. I'm going to bed right now, so morning will come sooner." Alone with the stockings, into which Lizzie put the candy and oranges, Amos sat long staring at the base burner. Without, the moon sailed high. Wood snapping in the intense cold was the only sound on the wonder of the night. Something of the urgent joy and beauty of the Eve touched Amos, for he finally rose and said, "Well, I've got two fine children, anyhow." Then he filled up the stoves for the night and went to bed. CHAPTER IV THE RAVISHED NEST "The young pine bends to the storm. The old pine breaks."--_The Murmuring Pine_.