"No Christmas Day!" echoed the scandalized woman with charming accent, "Ah, zat is ze Christ's birthday!" "I was very wicked," murmured Tabitha, humbly. "I didn't stop to think how we happen to have that holiday. I was mourning because I have not as much to spend for pretty things as the other girls have." "Oh, but zat is very wrong!" protested her companion, shaking her head in a disapproving fashion. "You Americans sink only of how much money you spend for Christmas and if your gift to your friend cost as much as ze one she give you. Zat isn't _gift_! Zat is exchange. One should give only from ze happiness of ze heart. If ze pocketbook is flat, zen pick a little flower, write a little letter, give a merry smile. All true friends like zat better zan silk dresses or gold watches. Do you forget one of your great poets has said: 'Not what we give but what we share, For ze gift without ze giver is bare.'" "I see what you mean, Madame," said Tabitha slowly. "Folks think too much about the cost of their gifts, instead of the spirit in which they are given. But wouldn't you feel badly if you knew that fifteen or twenty girls were planning splendid things for you and there was only five dollars to buy remembrances for all of them, besides the other friends? Cassandra told me yesterday that Bertha Peck is embroidering a silk scarf for me, and here I haven't a thing for her!" Madame smiled indulgently at the tragic tones, and gently shook the slender maid, as she answered, "Wie, I understand some how you feel, Tabitha; but it isn't worth fretting about. A little handkerchief, a card maybe--" "One can't get a really nice handkerchief for even two bits, and it would take my whole five dollars for just the girls alone. I would have nothing left for Tom or the rest." The little French woman was silent for a moment, and a deep frown wrinkled her usually placid brow; then she impulsively caught Tabitha's brown hands in her own and skipped joyfully as if she, too, were a girl in her teens, exclaiming excitedly, "I have it--zat what you say? You crochet. I have seen you sometimes when you study and I wonder how you count ze stitches and learn, too, but you always have your lessons well." Tabitha's face flushed with pleasure at this unexpected praise, and she laughingly replied, "Oh, I can't always. It is just when I am memorizing something or learning French conjugations. Now with algebra, I have to use my hands as well as my brains." "Sly-boots! But you make pretty sings with your crochet hook--ze lace on Carrie's collar, n'est pas?" "Yes, I made that for her birthday. Mrs. Vane taught me how last year in Silver Bow so I wouldn't be so lonely." "It takes only a little time?" "Not very long now. I have made so much of it I can almost do it in my sleep, and I can pick up new patterns from magazines by myself." "Good! I, too, crochet--many sings once. I show you how if you wish." "Oh, thank you, Madame DuBois! I shall be glad to learn."