"It came to me. I engaged a twelve-foot tree from a man that was taking orders at the door." "So did I," confessed Mr. Black. "I'm not sure that I didn't order two." "Peter Black! You're spoiling those children." "I'm having plenty of help," twinkled Mr. Black, shrewdly. With so many trees to choose from, it certainly seemed probable that the Black-Crane household would have at least one respectable specimen to decorate; but half an hour later, when the three ordered balsams arrived, both Mr. Black and Mrs. Crane were greatly disappointed. The trees had shrunk from twelve to six feet, and the uneven branches were thin and sparsely covered. "Why!" exclaimed Mr. Black, "all three of those trees together wouldn't make a whole tree." "They look," said Mrs. Crane, "as if they were shedding their feathers." "Most of them," agreed Mr. Black, "have already been shed. I said, Mr. Man, that I wanted _good_ trees." "My wagon broke down," explained the tree-man, "so I couldn't bring anything that I couldn't haul on a big sled. They weigh a lot, those big fellows." "Can't you make a special trip," suggested Mrs. Crane, "and bring us a first-class tree--just one?" "It's too late. I have to go too far before I'm allowed to cut any." "Well," said Mr. Black, "I'll pay you for these, and I'll give you fifty cents extra to haul them off the premises. We don't want any such sorrowful specimens round here to cast a gloom over our Christmas, do we, Sarah?" "Peter," announced Mrs. Crane, when the man had departed with his scraggly trees, "I have an idea. The weather's likely to stay mild for another twenty-four hours, isn't it?" "I think so." "And this is an honest town?" "As honest as they make 'em." "And all those girls are accustomed to being outdoors----" "I _see_!" cried Mr. Black, giving Mrs. Crane's plump shoulders a sudden, friendly whack. "I _almost_ thought of that myself. We'll certainly surprise 'em _this_ time." Although it was getting late, Mr. Black still hung about the house as if he had not yet freed his mind of Christmas matters. "I suppose," said Mr. Black, breaking a long silence, "that you've thought of a few things to put on the tree for those girls?" "Yes," admitted Mrs. Crane, guardedly, "I've gathered up some little fixings that I thought they'd fancy." "It might be a good idea," said Mr. Black, rising to ring for Martin, "for us to compare notes. Two heads are better than one, you know; and after what they did for us, we owe those little folks a splendid Christmas." "We certainly do," agreed Mrs. Crane, wiping away the sudden moisture that sprung to her eyes at thought of the memorable dinner party in Dandelion Cottage--the dinner that had brought her estranged brother to the rescue. "I don't know where I'd have been now if it hadn't been for those blessed children. In the poorhouse, probably."