“I declare, ’tain’t my fault,” pleaded the storekeeper. “I laid in ten pounds extra for Christmas but old man Ledbetter come in yer and he let Grover Cleveland clean me out. You can gen’rally, most always trust Colonel Ledbetter not to do no low down tricks but you-all know how’tis; if Grover Cleveland was a-hankerin’ after the whole top side of the airth his gran’daddy’d git it for him if he could. I’ve ordered some more, but it won’t be here till to-morrow.” “That’s all right,” said the school teacher, “we’ll meet again this evening to make some more stockings, and we’ll trim the tree all over again and we’ll have a Christmas tree for all Junaluska.” Some rustic beaux had been hanging about the group listening to the colloquy. They looked at one another and they looked at a row of fresh-faced, luxuriant-haired mountain girls at another counter bartering eggs which they had “toted” from their homes five or six miles away. “Make it a general spree this evening,” they pleaded, “let us come to the tree-trimming and bring our girls.” “We will,” said the teacher, “if you-all will spread the news that it’s to be an un-de-nom-i-na-tional tree and that all the grown-ups are invited to come to-night to the trimming and to bring for the tree whatever gifts they have for their families and their friends, and that young and old are invited to the exercises to-morrow night.” “Captain Boyce won’t come nor Judge Brevard, ary one; they took a oath never to set foot in that thar meetin’-house.” “Then we’ll move the tree somewhere else.” Such was the series of events that transferred the tree and the trimmers to Colonel Ledbetter’s two-room cabin that overlooked the village from a highroad. The log fire blazing wide and high in the chimney place put to shame the candles that swaled and sputtered in turnip candelabra, but could not dim the light that shone from merry eyes as the happy people helped or hindered with equally good intentions. Long before dispersion could be thought of the tree stood full fruited and ready for the morrow’s harvesting. [Illustration: “They drew up some benches before the fire and gave themselves to rest and reminiscence”] Suddenly the barking of a dog roused the gully behind the cabin. “That’s my Cæsar; he’s struck a ’possum trail,” exclaimed a swain and with one rush young men and maidens made for the moonlit out-of-doors and joined in a ’possum hunt. Only the serious minded remained, fewer than a score of people and yet they were the metaphorical pillars of five different denominations of Christian churches, each struggling independently to establish the same gospel in that little mountain town. They drew up some benches before the fire and gave themselves to rest and reminiscence. On the road, in the fields, or at his fireside the Junaluskan may address his neighbour as Bill or Jeff or Jack, but in assembly every elderly man is accorded a title, military, civil, or ecclesiastic.