Fortunately, the furniture of their new abode belonged to the house, having been put in for the departing janitor, who had taken the position as a fresh and furnitureless arrival from Germany; so there was nothing requiring an immediate outlay of capital. Dr. Richards came in while they were discussing ways and means, and, after signifying his hearty approval of the plan in its main features, asked, “But about the balls, Miss Sally? Of course we know the society itself is composed of men who are as steady as old Time,” with a roguish glance at Metzerott, “but at the public balls, you know! for they do have beer!” “I know that, and I don’t say I like it,” replied Sally; “but firstly, _I_ ain’t going to sell it, I can’t control it, and therefore I ain’t responsible for it; secondly, they’ll be in the top of the house and us at the bottom most of the time; thirdly, if they go beyond the bounds of reason, we can call on the police; fourthly, ’tain’t no worse for us than it was for the janitor’s wife, a nice, modest woman as ever I see; and fifthly, folks that have been through what we have can put up with ’most anything!” “After that array of argument I have no more to say,” said the doctor, laughing. “Well, Miss Sally, I must say that I think you will fill a long-felt want. You know the new pottery is to open the first of January, and quite a number of women would and could get work there if it were not for their duties at home. Now, if you could give them home fare at home prices, you see you would benefit yourselves and them too.” “How about their children?” asked Polly. “The big ones would be at school most of the time, and if you had a _crèche_ for the babies”— “There’s a vacant house next door to the hall,” said Metzerott. “Ah! now we have plans indeed,” laughed the doctor, “and I wish I had time to talk them over with you; but I must perform my own special errand. Mr. Metzerott, my wife wants to borrow your little boy for our Christmas tree.” Karl’s eyes beamed with pride, yet he hesitated; but Louis’ cheeks were flushed, his eyes large and bright. “Oh!” he said, “what is a Christmas tree?” “Now ain’t that a shame! beggin’ your pardon, Mr. Metzerott,” said Miss Sally. “To think of the true Christian his mother was, and there’s her boy don’t know nothin’ of Christmas or Christmas trees.” “Only, unfortunately for your argument, Miss Sally, both Christmas and its Tree are pagan originally. The first was the feast of Yule, kept by our Teutonic ancestors; the second is the representative of the great ash-tree Ygdrasil, symbolizing the heaven and earth. The eagle that soared above it, watching with sleepless eye all that passed below,”— “Well, so He does,” said Miss Sally. “Pagan or not,” said Metzerott, “I don’t want my boy to be a Christian.” “I think you are wrong,” said the doctor thoughtfully; “not that I believe in Christianity any more than you, begging pardon of our friends here.”