That is how the American celebration of Christmas has become so cosmopolitan in its character. It is a chorus of all the customs that, cricket-like, have journeyed to us, each with its song of an "auld lang syne."
"I should like to have a little of everything this year," remarked Miss Caroline, as, pencil in hand, she prepared to make a long memorandum.
It was two weeks before Christmas, and she had called a family council in her room, after Jack had gone to bed.
Mrs. Marion and Lois were there, busily embroidering.
"It is the first time we have had a home of our own for so many years, or been where there is a child in the family," added Miss Harriet, "that we ought to make quite an occasion of it."
"Now, my idea," remarked Miss Caroline, "is to begin back with the mistletoe of the Druids, and then the holly and plum-pudding of old England. I'm sorry we can't have the Yule log and the wassail-bowl and the dear little Christmas waits. It must have been so lovely. But we can have a tree Christmas eve, with all the beautiful German customs that go with it. Jack must hang up his stocking by the chimney, whether he believes in Santa Claus or not. Then we must read up all the Scandinavian and Dutch and Flemish customs, and observe just as many as we can."
"And all this just for Jack and Lee," said Mrs. Marion, thoughtfully.
"Bless you, no," exclaimed Miss Caroline. "Jack is going to invite ten poor children that the Junior Mercy and Help Department have reported. He is so grateful for being able to walk a little, that he wants to give up his whole Christmas to them."
"What do you want me to do?" asked Lois. "I'm through with my last present now, and am ready for anything, from serving a dinner to the slums to playing a bagpipe for its entertainment."
As she spoke she snipped the last thread of silk with her little silver scissors, and tossed the piece of embroidery into Bethany's lap.