CHAPTER SIXTY TWO

The sunlight of a bright Christmas morning had hardly dawned upon the earth, when from many a planter’s home in the sunny south was heard the joyful cry of “Christmas Gift,” “Christmas Gift,” as the negroes ran over and against each other, hiding ofttimes, until some one came within hailing distance, when their loud “Christmas Gift” would make all echo again. On this occasion, every servant at Maple Grove was remembered, for Anna and ’Lena had worked both early and late in preparing some little present, and feeling amply compensated for their trouble, when they saw how much happiness it gave. Mabel, too, while she stayed, had lent a helping hand, and many a blessing was that morning invoked upon her head from the hearts made glad by her generous gifts. Carrie, when asked to join them, had turned scornfully away, saying “she’d plenty to do, without working for niggers; who could not appreciate it.”

So all her leisure hours were spent in embroidering a fine cambric handkerchief, intende