Mary Hazelton Blanchard Wade

Bertha Mary Hazelton Blanchard Wade

"Don't look! There, now it's done!" cried Bertha. It was two nights before Christmas. Bertha was in the big living-room with her mother and older sister. Each sat as close as possible to the candle-light, and was busily working on something in her lap. But, strange to say, they did not face each other. They were sitting back to back. "What an unsociable way to work," we think. "Is that the way Germans spend the evenings together?" No, indeed. But Christmas was near at hand, and the air was brimful of secrets.