"I don't know," says she, short as pie-crust, "but a poor family wouldn't amuse my Cecilia, and these will."
"Just so," says I; "what is this for?"
"Oh, that is her father's present—pink coral—hang it across one of the limbs," says she.
I hung the beads among the spruce leaves, and enjoyed the sight; they seemed like a string of rose-buds twisted in with the green.
"There now, we will finish in the morning," says E. E. "I wish Cecilia had invited her little friends; it will seem rather lonesome."
With this, Cousin E. E. gave a little sigh, and we went off to bed, telling me that I must be sure to get up in time for early service, which she wouldn't miss for anything.
XVII.
EARLY SERVICE.
DEAR SISTERS:—Before daylight on Christmas morning, I went to early service at the highest church in New York city, which, after all, isn't anything to brag of in the way of steeple.