A Borrowed Sister by Eliza Orne White — Read

Lois had always liked summer better than winter, but this year she changed her mind, and thought that nothing could be quite so good as these December days, when the crisp air sent the blood tingling through her veins. The white world, with the dark trees powdered with snow, and in the late afternoons the blood-red sunsets warm and glowing against the cold white, had an especial charm. And into this world, as beautiful as fairy-land, Lois walked hand in hand with Jessie and Ellen; while coasting, sleigh-riding, and skating made a sort of carnival of each day. Now that her fear of the Morgan boys had been cured, there was an added interest in having them of the party. Lois could skate well enough to join the others, and Amyas and Reuben often took her and Jessie, with their sisters, on coasting-parties. Lois had never known before the joys of the "double-runner," and although she felt she took her life in her hands every time she went down a steep hill, there was a fearful pleasure in the descent, and a thankfulness and surprise each time she reached the bottom safely, that made coasting a pastime of which she never tired.

"I think," said Jessie, one morning, "that we ought to do something for those poor Donnellys at Christmas. I wish we could have a Christmas tree for them. Couldn't we, Aunt Elizabeth?"