"I shall only make a hundred in all, mother," exclaimed the boy clapping his hands with delight. "Mr. McIntosh has a hundred and fifty for his large church; and Mr. Jones told me they couldn't afford to decorate a great deal. About forty dollars, he said they would pay. Do you think I have enough to make a hundred, mother?"
"We can tell better to-night, my dear."
"It wont be so much work to wind the other for looping up, mother. It doesn't have to be done thick like the wreaths. Mr. Jones said I might bring what I could afford for forty dollars."
"So he thought you would forget the decorations before November, did he?"
"Yes, mother, and he shook hands with me as though he had always known me. I thanked him ever so much for his kindness."
Christmas came this year on Thursday. On the Monday previous Dick plead for leave to take his wreaths to the city, and engage the amount he wished to buy. The snow had lain on the ground nearly a month, and there had been no opportunity to gather more evergreen. A cold sleet had been driving against the windows all the morning and his parents could not consent to his riding so far in an open sleigh.
Poor Dick could think and talk of nothing but his decorations. He had obtained permission of Miss Wheeler to be absent from school on necessary business, on condition that he made up his lessons. This he had done for Monday; and it was a terrible disappointment not to be able to go. The morning was half past before he recollected that he might go to school to day and in the evening learn the lessons his class would recite on Tuesday.
The next morning was clear but very cold.
"I hate to have the child out all day in such weather," remarked Mrs. Stuart to her husband.
"He wont mind it, his blood runs briskly," answered his father with a smile.