Commonwealth Avenue Boston, Massachusetts. December 23, 1912. Dear little Smiles: Although I am very busy, for the Winter has given colds to many little folks here, I can not let Christmastide go by without writing a letter to you, little forest friend. It was very dear of you to send me that basket of holly, which I found waiting for me when I returned, tired out, last night. Its dark green leaves and bright red berries looked up at me when I undid it, almost as though they were your personal messengers and were trying eagerly to say, "Smiles wishes you a Merry Christmas through us." The basket was indeed a work of art, but to me it seemed even more than that--a labor of love. I could almost imagine you tramping through the snow-covered mountain woods and gathering the holiday berries, and the picture which my mind painted was so attractive that I heartily wished I might have been there, too. I am delighted with the accounts of the progress you are making in your studies, and your all-too-infrequent letters themselves tell the story. I'm afraid that I shall not know you next summer. Write me just as often as you feel like doing so, dear, and if I do not always reply you may know that it is only because I am so very busy. Now I have two pieces of news to tell you. I am sure that you will be very much pleased with one of them and I hope will be with both. First, Muriel's mother had a wonderful present just a little ahead of Christmas day--not from Santa Claus, but from Old Father Stork. It is a fine baby boy, whose eyes are almost the color of yours, and his name is to be "Donald MacDonald Thayer." I suppose I have now got to be extra good in order to set my namesake the right example. Knowing how dear all little ones are to your heart, I am sure that you will be almost as pleased as we are over this happy event, and I can almost see your sweet face light up with its wonderful smile as you read this. Second, I am engaged to be married some day, if I can ever find time. _Her_ name is Marion Treville and she is very good and kind, and every one thinks she is very beautiful, too. I hope that you have by this time received the little friendship box which I sent to you and your grandfather. The dress is a present from Muriel, who loves your basket more than any of her toys, and continually speaks of you as her "dear friend Smiles"; the hair ribbon is from Mike and the book from Your sincere friend, Donald MacDonald. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - VI Webb's Gap January 7, 1913. Dear Dr. MacDonald: