THE BIRDS’ CHRISTMAS TREE 245 
shingles stained to look old replaced the broken ones, 
new paint glistened on the window-sashes, and the quaint 
old panes of glass, bearing the rainbow tints of years, 
shone like mirrors. The front door was painted dark 
green, and the spread-eagle knocker of brass was as bright 
as polishing could make it; while around the deep front 
porch was a little fence of cedar bushes in boxes, all gar- 
landed with vines of coral, bitter-sweet berries. 
Goldilocks and Sarah went to the front door of the old 
house, while Ann disappeared in the wood-shed that 
joined the side porch and well-house. 
The girls had not touched the knocker when the door 
flew open, and who should stand there but Miss Rose Wilde, 
while beyond her, sitting by the blazing log-fire in the 
long, low living-room, that had once been the kitchen, was 
her mother, looking better and younger than she had for 
at least ten years ! 
This was the secret. Gray Lady had repaired the old 
house and established the faithful little teacher and her 
mother in it, so that instead of mother and daughter only 
meeting once a week, or less often in winter, and each 
having a good bit of heartache between, they had a real 
home once more. What was also a bit of good luck, Mrs. 
Wilde’s furniture, that had been stored away, was of the 
kind that seemed as if it had been made for the old home- 
stead and had never been anywhere else. 
Once inside, Rose Wilde led them into the kitchen, where 
everything was as neat as wax, and there, spread upon 
tables and half-covering the floor, were the decorations for 
the birds’ Christmas tree. 
Where was the tree itself? Where trees are the best 
