CHRISTMAS IN THE WOODS 51 



persimmon tree. The 'possum, to be sure, had eaten 

 and gone before I came. But that is good form in 

 the woods. He was expecting me, so he came early, 

 just before dawn, that neither of us might be em- 

 barrassed, leaving his greetings for me in sign-lan- 

 guage in the snow. 



A Christmas dinner all alone would be cold cheer 

 indeed. But I was not alone. Here was good com- 

 pany and plenty of it. Did not the tracks talk to me? 

 With abundance of fruit still left in the tree, did I 

 need to see that 'possum fold up his napkin, pull 

 down his vest, spread his hands over his expansive 

 person and groan in the fullness of his feast ? No ; all 

 of that was printed plainly in the snow. Why, I could 

 even hear his groans in his tumbled tracks at the 

 foot of the tree, where the fat old fellow had liter- 

 ally fallen over himself ! What an appetite ! What a 

 pudding of persimmons he must be ! He can hardly 

 walk for fat ! Look at his trail in the snow leading 

 down toward the pond a big wide wallow where 

 he has bounced along ! 



So I slide down the tree and take up the 'possum's 

 trail. We have broken bread together, this 'possum 

 and I, and now we will enter the woods together in 

 the same good-fellowship for the rest of the day. 

 Persimmons and good-will are very proper things 

 to be filled with when you go into the Christmas 

 woods. 



And there is no better fellowship for such a tramp 



