LETTERS FROM AN OREGON RANCH
our “Oregon holly,” with statuettes of “Diana” and “The Wrestlers” half concealed among the leaves. Just below the mantel was placed a long narrow picture in black and white,—a fur-enveloped Santa Claus, with frisky reindeers dashing through a snowy moonlit forest (set in black),—holly gleaming above, and the fire below flanked on one side by the brass fire utensils, on the other by a brass umbrella-stand overflowing with holly branches. The doors and low bookcases were crowned with holly; bunches of it tied with scarlet ribbon were hung above pictures, and vases and rose-bowls were filled. The windows were embowered with ferns. An immense bunch of mistletoe suspended by white satin ribbon swung from the centre of the room,—not the stiff, dry, crackly kind of other days, but gathered that morning fresh from the oaks and white with berries.
The artists next advanced upon the dining-room,—which being very dark is the dungeon of this house, white paint and yellow ingrain paper struggling bravely to lighten the gloom. We made a frieze of arbor vitæ around the room, just above the picture moulding, about two feet in width,—a task not at all difficult, as we could tack the branches to the wall undismayed by fear of falling plaster, for, for some inscrutable reason, plaster is not much used here. In place of it we have cheesecloth tacked to the board wall; and upon this the paper is pasted. It seems queer, but looks well,
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