_It is Calliope Marsh who tells, in her own speech, these Neighborhood Stories. And if she were given to selecting texts, I think that she would have selected one which says that life is something other than that which we believe it to be._ PORTAGE, WISCONSIN, August, 1914. CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I. A GREAT TREE 1 II. EXIT CHARITY 27 III. THE TIME HAS COME 56 IV. THE FACE OF FRIENDSHIP VILLAGE 90 V. THE FLOOD 124 VI. THE PARTY 157 VII. THE BIGGEST BUSINESS 183 VIII. THE PRODIGAL GUEST 216 IX. MR. DOMBLEDON 226 X. HUMAN 258 XI. THE HOMECOMING 275 NEIGHBORHOOD STORIES A GREAT TREE I never had felt so much like Christmas, said Calliope Marsh, as I did that year. “I wish’t,” I says, when it got ’most time, “I wish’t I knew somebody to have a Christmas tree with.” “Well, Calliope Marsh,” says Mis’ Postmaster Sykes, looking surprised-on-purpose, the way she does, “ain’t there enough poor and neglected folks in this world to please anybody?” “I didn’t say have a Christmas tree _for_,” I says back at her; “I says have one _with_.” “I don’t know what you mean by that difference,” she says, “I’m sure.” “I donno,” I says, “as I know either. But there is a difference, somewhere. I’d kind of like to have a tree _with_ folks this year.” “Why don’t you help on your church tree?” Mis’ Sykes ask’ me. “They’re going to spend quite a little money on theirs this year.” “I hate to box Christmas up in a church,” I says. “Why, Calliope Marsh!” she says, shocked. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings--I ain’t never one of those that likes to throw their idees in folks’s faces and watch folks jump back. So I tried to talk about something else, but she went right on, trying her best to help me out. “The ward schools is each going to have a tree this year, I hear,” she says. “Why don’t you go in on your ward, Calliope, and help out there? They’d be real glad of help, you know.” “I hate to divide Christmas off into wards,” I says to her.