David and his father found an axe and hurried off to a clump of small pines that grew near the river; there Mr. Payson cut down the most shapely one he could find. When they returned with it, Mrs. Payson and Florence had two baskets ready instead of one. Into the first basket they had put food and clothing. Into the second they had put some of the ornaments and holly that had decorated their own tree, and also a generous part of the fruit, candy and toys.
“Now we’ll be Santa Claus & Co.,” said Mr. Payson. “David, you and Florence can ride old Diamond and drag the tree. I’ve tied a rope to it. I’ll go ahead on General with the baskets.”
That was the way the strange procession set out. There was a light snow on the ground, but not enough to make travel hard, and the two miles were soon crossed. General was faster than Diamond, and a little while before the children reached the cabin they met their father returning.
“I’ve left the baskets on the brow of the hill,” he said. “You can easily drag them down to the door. You two are really Santa Claus & Co., you know.”
So, suddenly and without any warning whatever, Christmas came to the log cabin. The family there had staked out a claim the summer before, and they had little more than the land itself. There were no signs of any holiday celebration anywhere about the shabby little place. It was indeed an amazed man that opened the door to the children’s knock.
“How do you do?” said David. “We’ve brought Christmas!”
“Brought what?” the man said uncertainly.
“We’ve brought Christmas,” repeated David, and he pointed to the tree and to the two big baskets that he and Florence had dragged down the slope to the door.
As he spoke, a woman joined the man at the door; three little children were clinging to her skirts.
“Christmas!” she exclaimed, holding up her hands. “Is this Christmas Day? I declare, we’d lost track of the days altogether! Why, you blessed angels, where did you come from?”