Spot tried not to bark his astonishment and delight; Minx began to claw all the old dolls and toys about; the French lady walked away into a corner and waited to be introduced, while Lyd and Peg shook hands with their old cronies until it seemed as though they never would stop.

The tree had hopped into the room and stood there, not knowing what to do with himself.  Lucy did not see him at first, being so busy with the rest; but as soon as she did see him, she gave him such a hug as nearly pulled him over.

“Oh, you dear old Norway!  Did you come?  You’re so good, and I’m so glad!  Come up to the fire and get warm.  Here, Jack, and Lyd, and Francaise, help me get this big foot-stool into the corner.  It’s getting awful late.”

Lucy flew about in a ragged kind of way until she had all the rest flying about too, doing an amount of work nobody would have believed possible.  They were all glad enough to do the work, but they needed just such a driving, thoughtful old body as Lucy to show them what to do and keep them at it.

[Illustration:  SCRUBBY’S FRIENDS ARRANGING HER CHRISTMAS-TREE.]

The big foot-stool was put where Lucy wanted it, and Norway warmed his foot and hopped upon the stool, pushing himself as far back in the corner as he could get, to make sure that he would not fall.

Then Lucy climbed upon a chair in front of him, ready for business.  She took Francaise up on the chair beside her to help arrange the things, for the French girl had excellent taste, and nobody could deny it.  Lyd and Peg, and Minx and Spot, and even the chicken, brought the things to go on the tree, and faster, too, than they could possibly be used, while Ned shouted all manner of directions.

Poor Norway fairly bowed his head under the weight of all the things that were hung upon him.  And it was astonishing how pretty those battered old dolls, broken toys, and torn flowers looked when upon the tree.  There were so many, and they had been arranged so nicely, that they really did make a splendid show.

“But, oh dear!” Lucy sighed, when it was all done.  “It’s not your fault I know, Norway, and you are just as good as you can be; but if you only were not quite so thin, and were just a little bit greener!  And then we’ve no moss to put under you.  But we haven’t any nice little animals to put on the moss, if we had it.”

Just then, Jumping Jack heard a queer kind of noise outside, and opened the door to see what it was.  In whisked Mrs. Squirrel; the sparrow hopped in close beside her, and Mr. Rabbit jumped along right after them.

“How are you getting on?” asked the gray lady.  “I brought this along because I thought it might come handy.  We laid in a great deal more than we needed for our nest last fall, and we could just as well spare it as not.”

It was a big bundle of beautiful green moss she had brought, enough to spread all around under the tree and make a fine carpet.