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Mighels, Philip Verrill

"Bruvver Jim's Baby"

That is, you fellers can, for little Skeezucks ain't
a-feelin' right well to-day, and I reckon I'll stay close beside him
till he spruces up."
"What about your mine?" inquired Lufkins.
"It ain't agoin' to run away," said the old philosopher, calmly. "I'll
let it set there for a few more days, as long as I can't hang it up on
the tree. It's just my little present to the boy, anyhow."
If anything had been needed to inject new enthusiasm into the plans for
a Christmas celebration or to fire anew the boyhood in the men, the
find of gold at Jim's very door would have done the trick a dozen times
over.
With hearts new-created for the simple joys of their labor, the big
rough fellows cut the meagre growth of leafless trees at the spring in
the small ravine, and gathered evergreen mountain-tea that grew in
scrawny clusters here and there on the mountains.
Armful after armful of this, their only possible material, they carried
to the blacksmith's shop below, and there wrought long and hard and
earnestly, tying together the wisps of green and the boughs and trunks
of tender saplings.
Four of the stalks, the size of a lady's wrist, they fastened together
with twisted wire to form the main support, or body, of their tree, To
this the reconstructed, enlarged, and strengthened branches were
likewise wired.


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