"But," queried Mr. Black, "what would it be the day after?"
"That," confessed Mrs. Crane, "is what bothers me."
"It does seem a shame," said Mr. Black, rising and walking to the window, "to cut down such a perfect specimen as that; and yet, in all my life I never met a tree so evidently designed for the express purpose of serving as a Christmas-tree. It's a real temptation."
"I know it," sighed Mrs. Crane. "It's been tempting me; but I said: 'Get thee behind me, Santa Claus, and send me to the proper place for Christmas-trees.'"
"And did you go to that place?"
"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.