IN Lakeville, Christmas always began at exactly four o'clock the afternoon of the twenty-fourth; for the young people of that little town—even the very old young people with gray hair and youthful eyes—always indulged in an unusual and extremely enjoyable custom. The moment that marked this real beginning of Christmas found each person with gifts for her neighbor sallying forth with a great basketful of parcels on her arm. If one had a great many friends and neighbors it often took until ten o'clock at night to distribute all one's gifts. As each package was wrapped in white tissue paper, tied with ribbon and further adorned with sprigs of holly or gay Christmas cards, these Christmas baskets were decidedly attractive; and the streets of Lakeville, from four to ten, were certain to be full of gayety and genuine Christmas cheer.

On all other days of the year, the Cottagers traveled together; but on this occasion each girl was an entirely separate person. Bettie, wearing a fine air of importance, went alone to Mabel's, to Jean's and to Marjory's to leave her gifts for her three friends. Although, at all other times, it was her habit to run in unceremoniously, to-day she rang each door-bell and was formally admitted to each front hall, where she selected the package designed for each house. Jean and the other two, likewise, went forth by themselves to leave their mysterious little parcels. But when this rite was completed all four ran to their own homes, added more parcels to their gay baskets and then congregated in Mrs. Mapes's parlor.

They had gifts for dear little Anne Halliday, the Marcotte twins, Henrietta Bedford, Rosa Marie, Mr. Black, Mrs. Crane, some distant cousins of Jean's and for all their school-teachers that had not gone out of town for the holidays. Besides, their parents had intrusted them with articles to be delivered to their friends and Mabel had a gift for the dust-chute Janitor, a silver match-safe with the date of the fire engraved under his initials.

"We'll go to Henrietta's first," decided Jean, "because that's the farthest."

"And to the Janitor's next," said Mabel, "because I want to get it over and forget about it."

To make things more exciting for Henrietta, the girls went in singly to present their offerings, the others crouching out of sight behind the stone balustrades that flanked the steps. Each time the bell rang, Henrietta was right at Simmons's heels when he opened the door. Then, after a brief wait outside, all four again presented themselves to invite Henrietta, who had gifts for Rosa Marie, to go with them to Mr. Black's and all the other places. Henrietta was glad to go, because she herself was too new to Lakeville to have very many friends to favor with presents. The five had a very merry time with their baskets; but they were much too excited to stay a great while under any one roof. They shouted merry greetings to the rest of the basket-laden population and paused more than once to obligingly pull a door-bell for some elderly acquaintance who found that she needed more hands than she had started out with.

"How jolly everybody is!" remarked Henrietta. "I never saw a more Christmassy lot of people. It must be lovely to have a long, long list to give to."

"Father says this is an unusually nice town," offered Bettie. "The people seem actually glad to have folks sick and in trouble so they can send them flowers and things to eat."

"What a charitable place," laughed Henrietta, gaily. "I hope nobody's longing for me to come down with anything. I'd rather stay well than eat flowers—they're too expensive just now."

"My!" exclaimed Mabel, after all the gifts had been distributed and the girls, with their empty baskets turned over their heads, had started homeward, "won't to-morrow be a lively day. First, all our stockings; very early in the morning at home. Next, all our Christmas packages to open—I've about ten already that I haven't even squeezed—that is, not very hard, except one that I know is a bottle. Then our dinners——"

"Too bad we can't have all our dinners together," mourned Marjory, "but of course your mothers and my Aunty Jane and Henrietta's grandmother would be too lonely if we did; and all the families in a bunch would make too many to feed comfortably."

"And then," proceeded Mabel, "a tree at Mr. Black's just as soon as it's dark enough to light the candles, and supper and another tree at Henrietta's in the evening, and a ride home in the Slater carriage afterwards, because by that time we'll surely be too tired to walk."

"And I've trimmed a tree for the boys at home," said Bettie. "There won't be anything on it for you, but you can all come to see it."

"Aunty Jane says that Christmas-trees shed their feathers and make too much litter," said Marjory, "but with three others to visit I don't mind if I don't have one."

"You can have half of mine," offered Mabel, generously. "I shan't have time to trim more than half of it, anyway, so I'd like somebody to help."

"I suppose," said Marjory, doubtfully, "that we ought to do something for the poor, but I don't know where to find any since our washwoman married the butcher."

"I'm glad you don't," laughed Henrietta. "I've nine cents left and it's got to last, for I shan't have any more until I get my allowance the first of January, unless somebody sends me money for Christmas."

"I guess," giggled Jean, fishing an empty purse from her pocket, "the rest of us couldn't scare up nine cents between us; but I have an uncle who always sends me a paper dollar every year. I've spent it in at least fifty different ways already. I always have lovely times with that dollar before it comes, but it just sort of melts away into nothing afterwards."

"I wish," breathed Mabel, fervently, "I had an uncle like that."

"Yes," agreed Henrietta, "a few uncles with the paper-dollar habit wouldn't be bad things to have."

"I caught a glimpse of your tree, Henrietta," confessed Marjory. "I stood on the balustrade outside and peeked in the window when Jean was inside. It's going to be perfectly grand; but of course I didn't mean to peek. I just got up there because I was too excited to stay on the ground."

"So did I," owned Bettie.

"I wonder," said Mabel, "where Mr. Black's tree is. We were in all the downstairs rooms and I didn't see a sign of it."

"Probably," teased Henrietta, "he's forgotten to order one. Unless one forms the habit very early in life, one is very apt to overlook little things like that."

"Mr. Black never forgets," assured Bettie.

"Probably it's some place in the yard," ventured Marjory, not guessing how close she came to the truth.

"No," declared Mabel, positively. "I looked out the windows and there wasn't a single sign of a tree anywhere. I pretty nearly asked about it, but I wasn't sure that that would be polite."

"Don't worry," soothed Jean. "There'll be one if Mr. Black has to plant a seed and grow it over night. He and Mrs. Crane are more excited over Christmas than we are. They can't think of anything else."