lady in the company; plumpness being considered a beauty in his country. The merry old soul professed herself immensely flattered by his admiration, and the boys declared she “set her cap at him,” else he would never have dared to catch her under the mistletoe, and, rising on the tips of his own toes, gallantly salute her fat cheek.

How they all laughed at her astonishment, and how Fun’s little black eyes twinkled over this exploit! Charlie put him up to it, and Charlie was so bent on catching Rose, that he laid all sorts of pitfalls for her, and bribed the other lads to help him. But Rose was wide-awake, and escaped all his snares, professing great contempt for such foolish customs. Poor Phebe did not fare so well, and Archie was the only one who took a base advantage of her as she stood innocently offering tea to Aunt Myra, whom she happened to meet just under the fatal bough. If his father’s arrival had not rather upset him, I doubt if the dignified Chief would have done it, for he apologized at once in the handsomest manner, and caught the tray that nearly dropped from Phebe’s hands.

Jamie boldly invited all the ladies to come and salute him; and as for Uncle Jem, he behaved as if the entire room was a grove of mistletoe. Uncle Alec slyly laid a bit of it on Aunt Peace’s cap, and then softly kissed her; which little joke seemed to please her very much, for she liked to have part in all the home pastimes, and Alec was her favourite nephew.

Charlie alone failed to catch his shy bird, and the oftener she escaped the more determined he was to ensnare her. When every other wile had been tried in vain, he got Archie to propose a game with forfeits.

“I understand that dodge,” thought Rose, and was on her guard so carefully that not one among the pile soon collected belonged to her.

“Now let us redeem them and play something else,” said Will, quite unconscious of the deeply-laid plots all about him.

“One more round and then we will,” answered the Prince, who had now baited his trap anew.

Just as the question came to Rose, Jamie’s voice was heard in the hall, crying distressfully, “Oh, come quick, quick!” Rose started up, missed the question, and was greeted with a general cry of “Forfeit! forfeit!” in which the little traitor came to join.

“Now I’ve got her,” thought the young rascal, exulting in his fun-loving soul.

“Now I’m lost,” thought Rose, as she gave up her pin-cushion with a sternly defiant look that would have daunted anyone but the reckless Prince. In fact, it made even him think twice, and resolve to “let Rose off easy,‘’ she had been so clever.

“Here’s a very pretty pawn, and what shall be done to redeem it?” asked Steve, holding the pin-cushion over Charlie’s head, for he had insisted on being judge, and kept that for the last.

“Fine or superfine?”

“Super.”

“Hum, well, she shall take old Mac under the mistletoe, and kiss him prettily. Won’t he be mad, though?”—and this bad boy chuckled over the discomfort he had caused two harmless beings.

There was an impressive pause among the young folks in their corner, for they all knew that Mac would “be mad,” since he hated nonsense of this sort, and had gone to talk with the elders when the game began. At this moment he was standing before the fire, listening to a discussion between his uncles and his father, looking as wise as a young owl, and blissfully unconscious of the plots against him.