There was sufficient mystery and expectation regarding the coming holiday celebrations at the Meiggs Plantation to excite the little folks in any case. There was to be no Christmas tree such as the Bunkers had had the previous Christmas in the North. Both Mun Bun and Margy could remember that tree very clearly. But there was quite as much hiding of funny shaped packages until the gift day should arrive, and the house was being decorated, inside and out, for the coming celebration. Mun Bun and Margy watched the servants hanging Christmas greens and mistletoe, although, unlike the older little Bunkers, they could not go into the swamps with the men to gather these greens. "We just ought to have a Christmas tree of our own," Margy said to Mun Bun. "I know where we can get a tree, and we'll beg some wreaths and trimming from that nice colored man there." "We can't," said Mun Bun, somewhat despondently. "We isn't got a house to put the tree in. And we had the Christmas tree last time in the house." "I've found a house," whispered Margy. "But don't you tell anybody." "Not even tell Muvver?" asked Mun Bun, looking almost scared. Yet the idea of a secret delighted him too. "Not till we get it all done. Then we will show her how fine it is," said Margy. "Where is your house?" asked Mun Bun. "You come along and I'll show you. I found it all by myself." She led Mun Bun by the hand out behind the big house and toward the quarters. In a sheltered place, behind a hedge, was a little house, sure enough. And it was not so very little after all, for when they went into it they could both stand upright. "There isn't any window," said Mun Bun. "This isn't a regular house." "Of course, it's a house," Margy declared. "It's got a doorway, and----" "It hasn't got any door, just the same," said Mun Bun, who might have liked the house better if he had found it himself. "We don't need a door. We want it open so the big folks can see our tree when we get it trimmed." "Where is the tree?" demanded the still doubtful little boy. "Now, Mun Bun!" exclaimed Margy, "do you want to play at fixing this Christmas tree, or don't you?" "Oh, yes," said Mun Bun, who did not really want to be left out of any fun, even if he did not think of it first himself. "Show me the tree, Margy." "Of course I will," said his sister. "You must help me get it and carry it in here." "Come on," urged the little boy. "Let's." So then Margy showed him where the tree she had found stood in a green tub outside the door of a small house that was almost all glass. The lower panes of glass in this house were whitewashed, so the children could not see what was in it; but this tree with its thick, glossy leaves seemed to have been left out for anybody to take who wanted it. They had to tug pretty hard to get the tree out of the tub. As Margy said, they didn't want the tub anyway, for it would take up too much room. And they were not strong enough to move it.