himself.

"I s'pose we'd ought to have a tree," said Jim. "We could make a
Christmas-tree look like the Garden of Eden before Mrs. Adam began to
eat the ornaments."

"That's the ticket," Webber agreed. "That's sure the boss racket of
them all."

"We couldn't git no tree into this shanty," objected Field. "This
place ain't big enough to hold a Christmas puddin'."

"Of course it is," said the carpenter. "It's ten foot ten by eighteen
foot six inches, or I can't do no guessin'."

"That 'mount of space couldn't hold jest me, on Christmas," estimated
the teamster.

"And the whole camp sure will want to come," added another.

"'Ceptin' Miss Doc," suggested Webber.

"'Ceptin' Miss Doc," agreed the previous speaker.

"Then why not have the tree down yonder, into Webber's shop, same as
church?" asked Field. "We could git the whole camp in there."

This was acclaimed a thought of genius.

"It suits me down to the ground," said Jim, with whom all ultimate