Lastly, the long, green spikes of the mountain shrub
were tied on, in bunches, like so many worn-out brooms. The tree, when
completed and standing in its glory in the shop, was a marvellous
creation, fully as much like a fir from the forest as a hair-brush is
like a palm.
Then began the scheme of its decoration. One of the geniuses broke up
countless bottles, for the red and green glass they afforded, and,
tying the pieces in slings of cord, hung them in great profusion from
the tree's peculiar arms. From the ceiling of his place of business,
Bone, the barkeep, cut down a fluffy lot of colored paper, stuck there
in a great rosette, and with this he added much original beauty to the
pile. Out of cigar-boxes came a great heap of bright tin-foil that
went on the branches in a way that only men could invent.
The carpenter loaded the structure with his gaudy blocks. The man who
had promised to make a "kind of kaliderscope" made four or five instead
of one. They were white-glass bottles filled with painted pebbles,
buttons, dimes, chopped-up pencils, scraps of shiny tin, and anything
or everything that would lend confusion or color to the bottle's
interior as the thing was rolled about or shaken in the hands. These
were so heavy as to threaten the tree's stability.
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