^p^lpllgasilfpHlfpig^^ UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA AT LOS ANGELES BKIYERSITY of CATJPORjsjU, LC3 AMGELE2 1 r L> T) A r» tr Christmas Selection*/* For Reading's and Recit&tions Compiled bsf Ilpsamond Livingstone McNaught '?. y^ 7 y S > 3 J I' \ *', .'• '" 3 philadelphia The Penn Publishing Company igii COPYSIOHT 1906 BY THE PeNK PUBLISHING COMPANV .: '". «'- " , • c • c , . . . ; . • • • • • . • « « « , ' c « • t • e- « 21 Christinas Selectioms I _9 CONTENTS Ann Teek's Silk Dress 99 -All Unfortunate .... Frank L. Stanfoii 188 At Christmas Tide . . . Susie M. Best 174 At Christmas Time . . . Jr. G. Park- 184 Ballade of Old Loves, A . Carolyn Wells , . 140 Chapter from Hustler's Camp, A 177 Chimnej' Drummer Boy, The WilUavi J. Long 112 Chrees'mas Time .... Thomas A. Daly 142 Christmas 23 Christmas Nora Chesson 73 Christmas Frank H. Siveet 85 Christmas Acrostic . . . Rommond Livingstone 3IcNaught . \Q1 Christmas and the Old Ye;ir Eosamnnd Livingstone McNangJit . 49 Christmas Box, The . . . Rosamond Livingstone 3[cNaugkt . 16 Christmas Carol, A . . . Christian Burke 143 Christmas Coffee Pot, A . Elmore Elliott Peake 191 Christmas Daj' Ruth Raymond 128 Christmas Eve Frank E. Brown 165 Christmas Fairies . . . . Rosamond Livingstone McNaught . 87 Christmas Greeting 164 Christmas Minuet, A . . Minna Irving 81) Christmas Joy and Sorrow Rosamond Livingstone 3IcNaught . 77 Christmas Land 7Q Christmas Light, The . . Frank Walcott Hutt 67 Christmas Peacemaker, The Virna Sheard 154 Christmas, Prithee . 15;^ Christmas Thoughts . . . Washington Irving 127 Christmas Tree in the Nur- sery, The Richard Watson Gilder .... 125 Christmas Tree, The . 7 Cliristohal Sophie May 166 Comin' Christmas Morn . Ben King 175 December Alice Arnold 81 Discontented Fir-Tree, Tlie Rosamond Livingstone McNaught . 34 Empty Stocking, The IH Feel in the Christmas Air, A James Whitcomb Riley 8 Gift of the Kind Heart, The Everett McNeil 43 5 6 CONTENTS Going Home for Christmas 131 Great Saviufj, A .... Alexander Micketts 74 Home for Christinas . . . L. G. Moberly 88 How the Christ-Flo-ver Bloomed . ... Nora Archibald Smith 150 If I were Santa Claus . . Rosamond Liviny stone Me Nanght . 97 In Santa Claus Time . . Frank L. Stanton, 106 Joey's Christmas . . . Rosamond Livingstone McNaugkt . 50 Laong's Christmas Mis- sion 115 Legend of the Christ- Child. A . . . . Mary Clarke Huntington .... 189 Little Feller's Stockin', The Joe Lincoln 129 Little Wolf's Wooden Shoes 68 Mistletoe and Holly . . . Thomas A. Daly 77 Money and Dreams 82 Morley's Christmas Eve, The Harriet Beecher Stowe 60 Mrs. Magnire — A Christ- mas Gift lliomas A. Daly 132 North Wind's Christmas Tour, The Jennie White . . 9 On Christmas Eve . . . . Jitdd Mortimer Lewis 152 Peace of Christ, The . . . WiUiam Kent 114 Polly's Discovery .... Charlotte Brewster Jordan ... 58 Poor House Christmas, A Lizzie 31. Hadley 37 Poor Papa Elsie Duncan Yale 72 Quest of the Magi, The . Benj. F. Leggeti 56 Koger Kent's Home-Com- ing Anthony E. Anderson 185 Santa Clans in Holland . Helen 31. Richardson 163 Shammy's Christmas Tree Eliza Evans Cnrtwright .... 24 Sly Santa Clans 3rrs. S. C. Stone 123 Star of the East 3Tary B. Sleight 43 Turned Out Frank Hazlewood Rowe . . . . 133 Virgin's Lullaby, The . . Nora Hopper 98 What Santa Ciaus Thinks 15 When Elizabeth Went Home Ethel Bowman Ronald 144 When Santa Claus was 111 120 Willie's Dream Stacey E. Baker ....... 85 With Neither Purse nor Scrip 107 Word to Sauta Claus, A ,49 Christmas Selections THE CHRISTMAS TREE By permission of " The Americau Primary Teacher," Boston YOU come from a land wliere the suow lies deep lu forest grand, on mountain steep ; Where the days are short, and the nights are long, And never a sky-lark sings his song. Have you seen the wild deer iu his mountain home, And watched the descent of the brown pine cone ? Do you miss your mates in the land of snow, Where none but the evergreen branches grow ? Dear tree, we will dress you in robes so bright, That ne'er could be seen a prettier sight ; In glittering balls, and tinkling bells, And the star which the story of Christmas tells j On every branch we will place a light, That will send its gleam through the starry night, And the little children will gatlier there And carol their songs in voices fair ; And we hope that you never will homesick be, You beautiful, beautiful Chi-istmas tree. 7 8 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS A FEEL IN THE CHRISTMAS AIK By permissiou of" The Cosmopolitan,'' New York THEY'S a kind o' feel iu the air, to me, Wheu the Chris' inas time sets in, That's abont as much of a mystery As ever J've run agin ! — Fer iustuuce, now, whilse I gain in weight An' gineral healtli, I swear They's a goneness somers I can't quite state- A kind o' feel in the air. They's a feel in the Chris' mas air goes right To the spot where a man lives at ! — It gives a feller an appetite — They ain't no doubt about that ! — And yit, they's somepin' — I don't know what- That follows me here and there, And ha'nts and worries and spares me not — A kind o' teel in the air ! Is it the racket the children raise? Wy, no ! — God bless 'em ! — no ! Is it the eyes and the cheeks ablaze — Like my own wuz, long ago ? — Is it the bleat o' the whistle and beat O' the little toy drum, and blare O' the horn? — Xo ! No ! — It's jest the sweet - The sad sweet feel in the air. James Whitcomb Riley CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS 5 THE ^'ORTH WIIs'D'S CHRISTMAS TOUR By periuissiou of 'The Ladies' World," New York IT was the last month of the year, aud the last half of the last mouth, the very busiest aud most per- plexiug, as well as the most iuterestiug aud delight- ful tiuie of the year, because it briugs with it that day of all days — Christmas. The Christuias bustle aud stir were in full tide all over the globe, aud away up iu his far uortheru home the old Korth Wiud was making ready for his December tour around the world. "Bless me ! " he blustered, glancing at his calen- dar — the sun — " the jear is almost ended and Christ- mas will be here iu a few days. I must huriy, or I'll not get off in time to helj) Santa Claus with his work, aud he is unusually busy this year, I uuder- staud, aud needs my help." I^ow it would have surprised some people, who consider the North Wind a cold, gruft", boisterous old fellow, to hear him talk of taking part iu the Christmas festivities, aud -in the role of helper to good old Santa Claus, too ; but he spoke iu a very matter-of-fact tone, aud went on with his prepara- tions for his journey just as though a Christmas tour aud helping Santa Claus were ciuite a matter of course and the regular order of things with him. "Well, I'm off," said the old fellow at last, his preparations completed, and with a whirl of his coat-tails that sent the snowflakes flying in every direction, away he went. Up hill aud down, through the valley, over lake and river aud pond, past held lo CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS and village aud town, he sped, filling the air with flying suovvflakes and covering the earth with ice from his frosty breath. "It will make Christmas so much merrier for the childreu and young folks," he roared to himself. "And I noticed that the older folks like a bit of snow and ice, too, at Christmas, to say nothing of how much easier it makes things for Santa Claus and his reindeer." "Hello! Guess we're going to have a spell of weather," said the farmer, looking out over his brown meadows. "Mighty glad to see this snow, too. The wheat needed it, and crops are always better when snow sets in at Christmas. Eegular norther we' re having, ' ' he added. ' ' Guess maybe I'd better take a load of wood and some i3otatoes and truck over to Widow Jones Christmas morning. Those young ones of hers have good hearty appetites, and the widow's so high-spirited, a body can't do much to help her out. But this cold snap'll be a good excuse, and she can't object to a Christmas present." And he went into the house to consult with his wife about the kind of " truck " most likely to be acceptable to the Jones family. "Whew! how cold it's getting," exclaimed the merchant, as a blast of cold air rushed into the well-heated store from an opening door. "Snow- ing, too ; that's good. This will help trade im- mensely. We always have a fine ti'ade when we have a cold, snowy Christmas. This change m the weather is worth a thousand dollars to me. I can aftbrd to give the wife and children a CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS ii pretty good Christmas Ibis time, thanks to old lioreas." Tlieu came the thought of those" to whom Christ- mas brought DO good cheer except as charity should bestow it, aud going to his desk, he filled out a check for fifty dollars aud sent it to the committee who were arranging a Christmas feast for the poor aud neglected of the city. Meanwhile the North Wind, still speeding on his journey, had reached the warm southland, where the terrible Fever Sj^ectre had beeu holding high carniv'al for weeks, seizing upon men, women and children aud laying them upon beds of sufferiug and pain, and in many cases death, bringing to the homes of the land gloom aud sorrow and filling all hearts with fear aud dread. "Aha ! " said the old North Wind, as he saw the state of things, "this is where I'm needed. I'll soon put au end to this. A pretty Christmas they'd have here if this went on ! " And giving his cloak an indignant whirl, he rushed over the laud so fiercely aud determinedly that the Fever Spectre, who had hesitated and fal- tered in his work of destruction at the first icy breath of the North Wind, now dropped everything and fled in terror aud dismay before the indignant old fellow's terrible blasts, leaving his poor victims pale and weak, but happy and thankful enough over his departure and their escape from his clutches. "Thauk God for this north wind," said the doc- tor, returning from his round of visits to his patients. " This frost aud snow will ellectually end the fever's 12 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS ravages, and we shall have a right Merry Christinas yet." "There ! " panted the North Wind, " that finishes my journey, and now I must get back home in time for my own Christmas dinner. Hello ! what's this ? " and darting down the chimney of a big tenement house over which he was passing, he brought up a slip of paper on which something was printed in a child's unskilful hand. "Thought maybe I'd find some little matters to attend to on my way home, and here's one of them now. Looks like one of those letters Santa Claus is always getting from the children. Yes, that's what it is," he continued, blowing the folded sheet ojien and examining it hastily. " A letter to Santa Claus from some of those poor little fellows in that big, forlorn house. I suppose I missed it when I went this way before, and now it's too late to get it to Santa Claus in time for him to attend to it, for I'll not get home to-night before he starts out on his trip. I'll just have to look after it myself." All this time he was twirling the little soot-stained note around thoughtfully and tossing it from one hand to the other. But now he caught it up, puffed out his cheeks, and with one strong whiff of his breath sent it flying, across streets and houses, straight to the window of a pleasant, comfortable- looking house a few blocks away, where it fluttered, fell, and rested on the broad window-sill. " Oh," mamma ! what's that! " exclaimed a young girl sitting in an easy chair close to the window, as the little letter danced before her, and quickly open- CHRISTiMAS SELECTIONS 13 in^ the window, she drew iu the little missive, eagerly uulblded it and read .• "Deer Sauty elaws plese cum to our hous aud bring us som crismus gifts, aud we will lov you. '' liOElilE aud MiNKIE Bkown." "Oh, mamma," said the child, "if we only knew where they live, we could send them some Christ- mas gifts. There's the doll I dressed, and the scrap- books I made ; and I have euough pennies to buy something for the little boy, if we only could find them," and the sweet voice was trembling with ex- citement and regret. "Well, dear," said the mother, smiling at the child's eagerness, "I think we can find them, for on this side of the children's letter is the name of the street and the number of the house. Some one has evideutly beguu a letter aud got no further than that. But this is all we need ; aud when Aunt Alice comes I will get her to sit with you while I go out and hunt up your litrle proteges." "Oh, goody, goody!" exclaimed the little girl, clapping her hands joyously. "Aud if you find them I shall have a hapj^y, happy Christmas, for I could not bear to have everybody doing so much for me and I not doing anything for auybody." The Xorth Wind had lingered to see if his further services would be needed in behalf of the children's letter, but on hearing this he laughed softly aud re- sumed his journey. "No need to give myself any uneasiness about that," he chuckled. "The Brown youngsters will have a Meiry Christmas without any t4 CHRISTMAS SP:LKCT10NS more help from me," aud he moved briskly on "Time's Hying," he muttered, "and I must be get tiug home ; but there's just one more matter 1 must look after, if it takes the rest of the day." And gathering up his cloak with a determined air, he swooi)ed down upon a highly respectable looking aud unsuspecting gentleman walking briskly along the street, and lifting his hat from his head, carried it off dowu the street and around the corner at a great rate. The geutlemau followed as quickly as possible, bufc he was uot so brisk as the North Wind, aud would have giveu up the chase in despair ; but a boy, light of weight aud swift of foot, came to his helj) and soou brought back the missing proj)erty. The geutlemau thanked his young helper, and no- ticing how scanty was his clothing for such a cold, snowy day, was prompted to ask his name. Wheu the boy gave the information asked, the gentleman turned pale, hesitated, then asked where he lived. The boy told him, aud the mau turned paler still ; then taking the boy by the arm, he said in a choked tone : "You must be my nephew — my sister's child. We disagreed wheu we were young, and I haven't seen her since. I thought she was living in a dis- tant city. Take me to her." Aud as the rich, prosperous man went off with the poorly-dressed boy to find his sister, the North "Wind laughed aloud with delight and capered about like some giddy, frisky little April breeze. "A good day's work, abu uow lor home. ' he CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS 15 said, settliu<5 down to a steady, even pace. ''I ecu- fi'SS I'm a trille blown and somewhat warmed np, and shall be glad to have a chance to cool off and get my breath." As he drew near to his own comfortable qnarters, lie met Santa Clans just starting out on his Christ- mas eve tour. "Many thanks for your help," shouted that jolly fellow, "and a Meiiy Christmiis to you." But the North Wind's work wiis not complete un- til he had presented himself to his Master and made his report. AVheu he had finished, the Christmas Angels gathered about him and sang a beautiful Christmas carol to his praise. But the Christ Child, whose birthday is the Christmas Day, and who is the Master of the Xorth Wind and Santa Clans and all the Christmas Angels, smiled ai^provingly uijou him and said, "Well done." Jennie White WHAT SANTA CLAUS THINKS By Tiermission of "School and Home Education," Bloomlngton, IlL HI ! another one ! What's all the world about? Don't these people know that I'm most woru out! Millions of 'em coming year by year ; Every youngster wretched if I don*t appear. Fii-st, they want a rattle, then a ring to bite ; Then a box of sugar-plums, then a doll, or kite; i6 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS Next a story-book to read, then a bat aud ball, — Sauta's back is broad aud strong, be must briug tbem all. Gratitude they talk about, — not a bit for me. First you kuow they get so wise, cry out, -'Fiddle- de-de ! No such chap as Santa Clans!" Can't deceive them so ; Nev^r find a six-inch stocking hanging in the row. Here's this jolly little chap, scarcely here a week ; Don't I know he rules the house, though he looks so meek ; Both his eyelids shut up tight, mouth wide open, too. S'pose he got a look at me, wonder what he'd dof Sleep away, my little man ; trouble comes with years ; You are bound to yet your share, in this vale of tears. Eattle, is it? Well, all right! Yes, I've got my pen; Finish out your little nai? and I'll be round again. THE CHRISTMAS BOX THE rehearsal for the Christmas exercises was over. Most of the children had left the church, and the few who lingered to talk of Christmas and CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS 17 its anticipated pleasures took uo notice of a plainly, dicssed little girl standing near the door. Betty )iad stopped inside the clmrch to put on her wraps because the hall was occupied by a group of ladies, d'ccussing the plans for the coming holiday. "Well, it ought to be a success," remarked one. "I'm sure we've worked hard enough. I thought they all did real well this afternoon," " These boxes must be sent out this evening, too," said another. " Where do they all go ? Here's one marked Evans ; that's the uame of one of the chil- dren in the exercises. Yes, little Betty Evans." *'I helped fix that up," said a jwrtly-lookiug lady. "There's a host of children there, and I found so many things that I thought would do them good. I had them laid out for the rummage sale, but I thought it was no use making poor people pay even a small price for things which might as well be given. I put iu a dozen pairs of Johnny's pants, with pieces for patches. They didn't need much mending, but Johnny is such a proud little rascal, he won't wear a garment with a patch on it." Betty's cheeks tingled. No one would imagine that her plaiu, timid face had anything but wonder behind it. But there were thoughts behind those big, wonder-filled eyes of Betty's, and they were real, serious ones. After the ladies had left the fiall, she slipped out through the glittering snow toward home, and her thoughts ran fast and furious : " I guess we don't need no old box with pants and patches in it ! My brother won't wear pants with patches, neither; and we're proud, tool It ain't i8 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS money that makes people proud, and poor people has just as much right to be proud as rich ones, I'll let 'em know that ! I'll just hurry home and meet '«^m at the door myself, and tell 'em we've got plenty of clothes and eatables and everything, and they can take their old box to some poor folks ! I hate beiu' poor ! I guess my mother's folks wasn't so poor, and that nice red dress I'm goin' to wear to-morrow night ain't one any one's give me ; it's one mother had when she was a young lady, and the lace it's trimmed in is what she had on her wedding gown. I'm goin' home and set our nice plush album right in the window where them folks that brings the box can see it, and I'll tell 'em we don't need no box. If pa hadn't got his foot hurt we "would 'a' had candy and presents and good things, and maybe we will, anyway. I'm goin' to tell them church folks so !" As she carefully entered the door, and replaced the rags in the cracks to keep out the cold, her mother spoke eagerly : "Betty, while you have on your wraps can't you go up to Mrs. Washburn's and get the money she owes me for sewing I I tried to get away, but your pa's foot has been paining him, and I'll have to go to the stores when you get back and get some things for Christmas, or the children will be disappointed. Tell her it's a dollar and a half. Kun along, mother's little helper, and we'll see how many nice things a dollar and a half will buy." " You^l get my doll, w^on't you, mother?" asked Mary, couiideutiy. CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS 19 " And me a horn — toot ! toot ! " said Bobby, usiug his hand as a horn in the meantime. Betty counted it over on the way to Mrs. AVash- burn's. A quarter would buy that doll Mary wanted ; a nickel for Bobby's horn, a quarter for something for herself, — for she knew mother would not leave her out, — a quarter for something for father ; then a quarter for meat, and a quarter for candy and good things, and twenty cents left for — for mother, of course. But w ho would buy some- thing for mother! Father had bought her a new pair of shoes last Christmas, but this Christmas father could not get her anything. She would go to the store herself then, and get something for mother, first of all. What would it be? A hand- kerchief, maybe, with lace on it, or a i)retty collar. She could see what they had at the stores for a quarter. She hastened her steps as she entered Mrs. Washburn's yard. AVhat if that horrid box should come while she was gone ! "Mrs. Washbuni has gone away to spend Christ- mas," said the maid who opened the door. " But the money — the money she owes mother for sewing?" faltered Betty. "I don't know anything about that," said the maid; "and she left no word about it." Then, seeing Betty's disaj)pointment, she took an orange from the table and handed it to her, saying : "I'm sorry. Merry Christmas to you." "Merry Christmas," answered Betty, in a very doleful tone, as she turned away. So there would be no doll foi' Mary, and no horn 20 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS for Bobby, and uotliiug for mother, or father. Bettj stopped aud looked around her. The lights from the windows gleamed out upon the white Christmas Eve ; but on Betty's troubled little heart they cast no glow. They would not let her have the things at the stores without the money ; there was no one she could ask for them, even if she would. No, there was no way under the bright, glittering stars to get a doll and a horn. Aud there would be no meat for the Christmas dinner. There was only bread and potatoes for dinner to-day, and there would be only bread and potatoes to-morrow. Not that Betty cared, but mother — mother would care so awfully ! Betty raised her eyes to the sky, radiant with its Christmas lights ; if there was no way under the stars there must be a way above them. "Oh, Lord!" prayed little Betty, "I don't know how you'll do it, but you can do everything just any- way, so please hurry. Lord, and send some way to get a doll and a horu, and something for father and mother, aud — and some meat for Christmas dinner. And if I'm askin' too much, Lord, let the meat go, but let us have the other things, for mother's sake and Jesus' sake. Amen !" Her heart glowed with faith and trust as she looked back to the earth, almost expecting to see the things she had asked for. But the snow still shone white aud cold aud motionless, and the lights in the windows spoke of joy aud comfort only within the walls and closed doors. Suddenly her heart gave a startled throb. The box ! There was the answer to her prayer ! There might be something else be- CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS 2, side pants aud patches iu that box, — a doll, a horu, or a story-book! Oh, what might there not bC? Aud she had intended sending it away. No, no, she would not say it was not needed. The thought of mother aud the little ones drove all the foolish pride from her heart, and she laughed aloud as she said; "Aud if that fat, stuck-ui) woman put iu a dress made out of a overcoat, I'll wear it ! " But on reaching home she was again disappointed. No box had come, for none was in sight, aud she would not mention it to mother lest it might not come at all. But mother did not seem as disap- pointed as Betty supj)osed she would when she learned that there was no money. "She will cry when we are all asleep," thought Betty ; and when the light was out, and the little ones slept, she stole softly to her mother's bed. ' ' Mother, are 3'ou cryin' ? ' ' she asked. ' ' Crying ! What for, darling 1 ' ' "Because there aiu't nothing for Christmas," an- swered Betty. "I was 'fraid you was; I'm glad you aiu't. Don't you, mother. 'Cause we all dou't care." Mother put her arms around the little comforter as she whispered : "I'm not crying, because I'm trusting in the Good Father. Now run back to bed, Betty, — mother's little helper." Ou Christmas morning the sunshine beamed into Betty's room from one sidci and mother's face from the other, as slie said: " Merry Christmas, Betty, and Christmas gift!" and Betty sprang out of bed. 22 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS woncleriug if there could be a Christmas gift for some one. She hardly dared to thiuk of it while she dressed, fearing she would hope aud be disap- pointed. But a shout from the little ones, who had run out without stopping to dress, assured her, aud she hastened to investigate. There, in the middle of the room, stood the box, — a great, long one, — aud Mary and Bobby were tumbling things out in great glee. Mary was wild over finding, not only one, but four dolls ! Bobby had dug out a rubber ball, an elephant, aud — oh, wonder ! — a horn ! '^ Surely the Lord fixed up that box after all," thought Betty, as she pounced upon a story-book. There were sacks of candy, nuts, apples, cakes, and ribbons, collars, handkerchiefs ; piles of waists, and ties, and stockings, — things too numerous to mention, for mother, father, and all the children. And all night the precious box had reposed behind the lowered leaf of the table. Presently Betty slipped back into her room, and, kneeling in the sunshine, prayed: '^Oh, Lord, we are thankful for Christmas, and for the box, and for the sunshine, and father and mother and Mary aud Bobby. Oh, Lord, we are thankful for every- thing, but most, for the good lady and the Christmas box!" EosAMOND Livingstone McNaught CHRISTiMAS SELECTIONS 23 CHEISTMAS By permission of" School aud Home Education," BloomiugtoD, 111. OVER the hills of Palest iue Tlie silver stars began to sliiiie ; Kiglit drew her shadows softly rouud The slumb'riug earth, without a souud. Aiiioug the dewy fields aud rocks, The shepherds kept their quiet flocks, Aud looked along the dark'uiug laud That waited the diviue commaud. Wheu lo ! through all the opening blue. Far up the deep, dark heavens withdrew ; And augels in a radiaut light Praised God through all the list'niug night. Again the sky was deep and dark ; Each star relumed his silver spark ; The di-eaming land in silence lay Aud waited for the dawning day. But, in a stable low and rude, AV'here white-horned, mild-eyed oxen stood. The gates of heaven were still displayed For Christ was in the manger laid. 24 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS SHAMMY'S CHRISTMAS TEEE By permlssiou of "The Ladies' World," New York (( WE haven't Elder Hophui's opiuion yet," said the minister, looking dubiously at the rugged, weather-beaten face opposite hiui and then around the tiny study upon the seamed, careworn counte- nances of Elders Penney, Sayre and Harkness. "We haven't Elder Preston's opiuion as yet, but undoubtedly he will agree with us that we sanction the — the innovation." The minister smiled, but by no means hopefully, and removing his spectacles, began polishing them with his handkerchief — a sure token with him of mental disturbance. Elder Hophni Preston, who had been ominously silent all through the meeting, now raised his bullet head with a combative air which the meeting under- stood only too well. "If it's a Christmas tree for the Sunday-school you're alludin' to, why not say so without beatiu' about the bush ? No, I don't favor no innovations into our church," he said decidedly — "Christmas tree in the house of worship and evergreen festoon in' on them sacred walls ! I tell you, bretheren, you're on the wrong track. Leave such doiu's to Papists and 'Piscopals that don't know no better. Per my part, if sech counsels is to prevail, I shell resign my eldership and go jine the Bretheren. There's a growin' number of 'em over at Ashawagh, and they think' s I do, fur as T can make out." Silence — a dubious one— followed this lucid state- CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS 25 meut. The clock ticked audibly, aud somewhere upstairs the minister's niuth baby cried — audibly too. The minister looked ruefully at the ceiling and then at the clock, which now set up an asthmatic whirring, preparatory to striking, ten. The session meeting had been long. " I think," remarked the minister at length, with an effort at being both truthful and diplomatic, "I think there is some truth, my brethren, in the re- marks of our excellent and invaluable brother. I myself feel that we must be extremely conservative in dealing with this matter, but my poor judgment is that we must progress a little or — or be left," concluded the minister rather lamely. Assent was visible in every face but one, and Elder Harkness even nodded his silvery- white head in approval of these sentiments ; but Elder Preston remained firm. " Il's late and I must be goin'," he said, standing a stern figure of rej^roof in the study door. " I tell ye, bretheren, I can't countenance it. You're all ag'in' me, as usual, but I must see my knee don't bow to Baal. I shan't hev no part nor lot into it, and Shamariah Stubbs Preston shan't go to no Christmas trees, nor Tishy neither. If they want entertainment let 'm sing hymns to hum — that's the way I was fetched up. and see where I be now." Elder Hophni looked around once again for some sign of agreement, and finding none went out, bang- ing two doors behind him. Hophni was a just man, who intended to do his 26 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS full duty, and he treated bis wife as well as be kne\» how. Tisby had all the butter niouey and no ques- tions asked, eveu when her husband would have fouud it a great convenience. Twice a year in spite of the work that might be pressing he took her over to Filerville to seeiier folks. If Hopbui felt ill, which was seldom, he " worked it off,'' and if Tisby sometimes drooped her delicate head like a breaking lily, he lecommeuded to her the same remedy. Hopbni, oddly enough, secretly worshiped his son, who had come after many childless years ; but this affection he concealed from every one, even Tishy. The mother little knew how the stern man's heart could melt in almost womanish tenderness over his one treasure. Hopbni' s caresses were lavished only when he was alone with his boy. Often after these yieldings Elder Preston would replace the child in his cradle and hasten to his chamber, where alone before God he would confess his weakness and pray for pardon. For in Hopbni' s mind natural affection was only a deadly snare for the soul— a weakness to be conquered at any cost lesti it lead to idolatry. So as the boy grew older the father's stolen caresses ceased, and all too soon the sound of his voice would check his child's infant glee. "He don't care a snap for either of us," poor Tishy said bitterly to herself. " All he thinks of is his crops and his meetin's. If that's religion, I duuno's I want it." " Why don't my pa ever buy me any playthings 1" CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS 27 asked Shammy one day of his mother. " All the other fellers has balls and games, and I ain't even got a j ack-knife. ' ' "Your pa thinks them things is wrong," said Tishy with a sigh. "He's afraid they'll lead you astray, Shammy." "Pa's awful good, ain't he?" said Shammy, looking up under Tishy' s slat sunbonnet with a pair of great wistful eyes. "Yes," replied the mother, turning aside to brush away a tear. "Yes, Shammy, he is a good man. There isn't a better in all Jessups. He's a rulin' elder, and respected by everybody. He expects you to grow up and be just like him." "I wish he wasn't quite so good," whimpered poor Shammy, thrusting his grimy, hard little fists into his empty pockets. "Johnny Clark's father swears awful, and he gives his little boy tops and kites and all sorts of things, and hugs him, too. I seen him myself." "There, there, darliu', mother feels so bad to see you cry. Come in and I'll give you a piece of plum-cake and tell you how I used to help Uncle Fred trim the Christmas tree over iu Filerville, and how Santa Claus used to come in jiuglin' with bells and throw us all oranges and bags of candy. They siiy they're a goin' to have one here next winter for all the Sunday-school scholars. Won't that be nice?" Shammy dried his tears at this. He asked in- numerable questions about the tree — as yet only a distant dream — and between the delights of present 28 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS plum -cake aud prospective Christmas festivities, forgot for a while his grievances. ^' I giu«s you'd as well not speak about it before your pa," the mother said with a dim presentimeut of trouble, and Shammy, alas ! needed no second hint on that score. * »^ ^^ ^f »t* ^ •^ *j* »j* *^ The storm furled its gray banners and fled away before a brisk northwest wind ; the winter sun shone and dazzled. Sleigh-bells began jingling and merry laughter rang through the crisp December air. Only in Shammy's darkened room silence reigned and heart- sick foreboding. For the child was very ill — so ill that as the days went by his case seemed nearly hopeless. CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS 31 Two iiiglits before Christmas Hophui sat aloue by tlie sick boy, while Tishy slept the heavy sleep of exhaustion in the old armchair by the kitchen fire. " If I could only jest have peeked in at the door at it !" moaned Shammy. ''If I could have jest seen it a minute ! Oh, my throat — my throat ! Father, I want some ice. Don't cry, please ; I was only wishin' I could jest have peeked in. Would tliat have been wicked? I never seen a Chiistmas tree. Ma, tell my father not to pray so loud. I'll be a good boy if he'll only stop ; but oh, a feller wants a pair of skates so bad and a sled. Oh, dear, won't it never be mornin' ? " ^Mien Tishy waked with a sudden leap of terror into full consciousness, she saw her husband draw- ing on his hea\^ boots. "How's Shammy? How could you let me sleep so long ? How is he ? " ' ' Wuss, ' ' said Hophni, grimly. " Go in and take care of him. I'm goin' up inter the big woods." "Goin' up into the big woods and your* boy dyin' f Hophni Preston, you ought to be ashamed of yourself !" ''I be ashamed," groaned Hophni. "I more'n ashamed. I'm a lost, condemned sinner. I'm goin' inter them woods to cut a Christmas tree. Shammy shell have it if I go to etarnal torment for it. Xo, Tishy, don't you lay a hand on me or it'll be all day with ye." The sun was just rising when tlie elder came back dragging behind him a cedar-tree. Tishy, peeping 32 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS furtively beneath the wiudow-shade, saw her hus baud harness the double team and without entering the house drive away on a wild gallop down the road to Sag Harbor. Somewhere about noon a sU'aming, panting jjair of horses di-ew up before Mr. Miut(U''s toy shop on Main Street. "I want some stuff for a Christmas tree," de- manded Hophni, crowding up to the counter. " I want candles and trimmiu's and a sled and skates, and jack-knives and dominoes and checkers, and everything else a boy nine year old could use." The saleswoman, a pretty girl with fluffy hair and a dimple in her cheek, looked her amazement out of her wide blue eyes. "Come, hurry up!" cried Elder Hophni. "I kin pay cash, so don't be sca't. You put up the stuff and Mr. Minter' 11 make out the bill. Young woman, don't look at me as if I was crazy. I tell you Shammy's dyin' of diptheery, and if I dou't hurry it'll be too late." J^ Sj* SjW ^* ^^ ^P " There," said the elder, drawing a deep breath, "I guess it's about ship-shape at last. Light the tapers, Tishy. I wonder if the sled shows plain from the bedroom door. I hope the skates will fit all right, Tishy, you'll hev to pull off my boot, I guess. I slashed me with the axe cuttin' the tree down, and I guess it's stuck on." So saying. Elder Hophni fainted dead away beside the lighted Christmas tree. When, ages later, he came whirling back, he CHRISTiMAS SELECTIONS 33 heard Doctor Pellet's voice far, far away. "No, the cut ain't so bad, Mis' Prestou, though he'll be laid up a spell, I'm afraid. A wonder he didn't bleed to death, though." "Shammy," whispered the elder through his white lips. " Shammy's all right. You lay still i "When we showed him the tree he was so tickled he give a screech. Here, di-ink this and stop your crying. I dedare, Hoppy, I thought better of ye ! " tj. v^ *1# *^ 0> »|» ^> *^ *l» *I* *I» T» A fortnight later Elder Preston came limping in and sat down in his wonted place in the prayer- meeting. But while his brethren prayed and ex- horted, Hophni sat silent and sorrowful. " We haven't heard from Elder Preston yet," said the minister at length, after many ajipealing glances at Hophni had failed of effect. ' ' Come, my brother, let us have your testimony." Hophni rose with painful effort, steadying him- self by the back of the seat before him. " Xo testimony from me," he said, looking de- spairingly around. "I want to resign my eldership, for I ain't fit to guide no man." Here the elder paused for breath, and wiped his damp forehead vigorously. "It's all along of that Christmas tree," he went on at length. " I said I'd resign if you had it ; I little thought what I'd do myself. And the worst of it is" — here Hophni looked about impressively — "I can't repent. My heart is as hard as Pharaoh's 34 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS — as uufeelin' as Elder Harkness's mill-stun. Why, when I try to repent and I recall how my boy Shamariah looked layiu' there a gaspiu' and a moaniu' and a longiu' for that Christmas tree, and when I think how — how pitiful he'd look up at me and how he'd put them little burnin' hands on my cheek and tell me not to— not to— cry" — here Hophui began to weep aloud — "when I think of them — them circumstances I'm — glad I done as I did. I know in my unfeelin', impenitent soul I should do it right over again. Yes, I'm glad I hung all them worldly trinkets onto it, and I wish I'd done it years before I did. Now turn me out, for I'm fell too deep for repentance." Hophni fell back in his place and covered his face with his hands. By and by the minister rose and said in a trem- bling voice: "Friends, let us give thanks to our Heavenly Father, who sent a little child to lead us all to Him, and especially let us praise Him for this friend whom He has so blessed with tenderness and humility, for of such, indeed, is the Kingdom of Heaven." Eliza Evans Caetweight THE DISCONTENTED FIR TREE A FIR TREE stood, 'mid ice and snow, As Christmas time drew near ; And, in its branches, sang a bird, So loud that all could hear : CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS 35 •'* Oil, wave your branches pioudly now ! Be merry while you can ; For one of you shall be laid low When comes the Christmas Man ! " When decked with balls and popcorn strings And all aglow with light ; Your branches hung with pretty toys, — You'll be a wondrous sight ! " But when the merriment has ceased, And you are stripped and bare, Admiring eyes will turn away, And leave you standing there." The fir-trees murmured, " Oh— oh — oh I We do not want to go. We'd rather keep our place amid December's ice and snow." But one, a foolish little tree, Sighed to itself: " Oh, dear t I know I'm very beautiful, And no one sees me here. ** And if I cannot be admired. What use to live at all ? Oh, let me have a glimpse of life I Then I'm content to fall." So when the ruthless Christmas Man Came with his axe one day. The little fir-tree thrilled with pride To hear the childien Siiy : 36 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS "Oh, here is just the tree we want ! " Aud soon the axe began Its yearly song of: " Come — come — be — The vic-tim of — the Christ-mas Man !" The people called it beautiful, Aud sang and laughed in glee. With things that glittered like the stars They dressed the little tree. But by aud by a merry throng Began to pull and tear ! — Almost before the tree could think, It stood with branches bare ! In vain it sighed for just a glauce From those same girls and boys Who said : " Here's just the tree we want, On which to hang our toys ! '' They didn't even shed a tear When papa came next day, And piled it on the rubbish heap To wither and decay. Ah ! If the foolish tree had been Contented with God's plan, It might have gi^ced the forest yet, Safe from the Christmas Man. KosAMOND Livingstone McNaught CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS 37 A POOR HOUSE CHRISTMAS By permission of " Tlie Ladies' World," New York " God rest ye, merry geutlenien. Let nothing you dismay, For Jesus Christ, your Saviour, Was born on Christmas Day." SAXG a little, bent old womau, aud her voice, though still sweet, was tremulous with age or weakness. There were several other women in the room, all old, aud with the exception of one all were busy sewing or knitting. The idler had drawn her chair close to the air-tight stove, aud with discontent written in every line of her wrinkled face, was moodilj' watching the singer as she fashioned a rag doll from bits of cloth and cotton batting, her dissatisfaction becoming each mo- ment more ajiparent. " I declare, Mis' Barker, I don't see how you c'n feel like singin'," she exclaimed at length. Mre. Barker turned toward her a surprised face, as she replied, "Why, Sister Lane, to-morrow will be Christ's birthday." The other smiled grimly. "Yes, an' you an' I are goin' to keep it in the ' Poor House ! ' " lilrs. Barker cast a troubled glance at the speaker and then her eyes wandered around the bare, clean room, which had no superfluous furniture to hide its angles. Finally her face cleared as she SJiid, gently, "There are worse places in the world, and He had 'not where to lay His head.' " 38 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS Presently Mrs. Lane lifted a breadth of the "all wool delaine" from which the doll dresses were being fashioned. " That's real pretty stuff," she said, as she scruti- nized the fabric. "Yes, I think so," and Mrs. Barker smoothed the bit she held in her hand and looked dreamily at its creamy whiteness, dotted with tiny bunches of blue violets, as she added : " I had this dress the year arfter I was married. Pa bought it 'cause he said them vi'lets were jest the color o' my eyes," and a faint blush stole into the soft old cheeks. "Sammy liked it, too, an' long ago as he was a little feller, jest learnin' to talk, he'd say, 'Pitty, pitty!' an' clap his hands ev'ry time I put it on. When he got big- ger he called it my 'flower dress,' an' liked to hev me wear it after he was a great big boy. I've alius been real ch'ice of it, but it wore out at last, an' I've kept the pieces all these years for pa's an' Sammy's sakes. I d' know but I've been makin' kind of au idol of 'em, an' I guess I'm doin' the right thing now passiu' 'em along to make some one else happy. I know it's what pa an' Sammy' d want me to do, for they was both master fond of childuu." Mrs. Lane watched her a few moments in silence, and then said, interrogatively : ' ' How long is' t seuce yom* husband died ? " "Goin' on nineteen years," was the reply. " I s'pose Sammy's dead, too? " "Yes," and a spasm of pain passed over the gen- tle old face. "Sammy went fust, an' 'twas tliat killed his pa." Theu, seeing the interest in her lis- CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS 39 teller s face, she continued : " The year afore he died, Sammy, who was jest turned eighteen, took it into Lis head to go West au' see his Uncle Jim. Jim was Diy brother, an' lived on a big farm — a ranch, he called it — an' nothiu' to do but Sammy must visit him. I hated to hev him go the wust way, but pa kind o' favored it, so I gin in. He got there all right, an' writ home what a good time he was hevin' an' then the next news we had, thei-e'dbeeu an Injun raid, au' he au' his Uncle Jim was both killed. I lived through it, though I thought then my heart was broke, an' as for pa, he couldn't be reconciled to it, but jest pined an' pined for Sammy till he died a few months arfter. With pa an' Sammy botli gone, I couldn't bear to stay in the old place, so I sold out an' come out here to lowy. I planned to live with Cousin John Forbes an' his wife, but before I'd been here a mouth both died, an' theu the bauk that had my money bu'st up, an' I had to work hard to keep soul an' body together. I thought then 'twas pretty hard, but I see now 'twas the best thing that could happen, for it kind o' took me out o' myself, an' I found I wa'n't the ouly one iu the world with trials. I got along real well till a year ago, when this rheu- matiz come on me, an' I had to give up an' come here, where it looks as if I sh'll hev to stay the rest o' my nat'ral life. But Mis' Mahew's a real good woman, an' Mr. Mahew treats us well, so I've no cause to complain, an' 'twou't be for long, any- way." Christmas morning dawned clear, crisp and cold. Mr. Mahew came home at noon, full of excitemeut, 40 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS The Governor was in town, and was coming to in spect the '' Farm" tliat afternoon. There was some bill relating to paupers before the Legislature, and before signing it he determined to see for himself how they were treated. Mr. Mahew put up his horse and went through the barns and outbuildings, to make sure they were in order, while Mrs. Mahew made a tour of the liouse and congratulated herself upon the fact that everything was as " neat as a pin." They went through the barns first, and then en- tering the house were duly presented to Mrs. Mahew, who undertook to pilot them through her domain. "Very good ! Very praiseworthy, my dear madam," murmured the Senator from the district who accompanied the party ; and the others echoed his praises. But the Governor was silent, and looking at him for some sign of approval, Mrs. Mahew saw that he was staring at the tree, with eyes that saw nothing else, while his face worked strangely, and half un- consciously his hand stroked the dress of the near- est doll. "Where did you get this 1" he asked at length in a hushed voice as he pointed to the doll's dress. ' ' One of the women made it from an old dress of her own," replied Mrs. Mahew, wondering what it all meant. " Can I see her ? " " Why, certainly ; but she's pretty bad with rheu- matism, and I'm afraid you'll have to go to her," The Governor nodded, and still holding the doll CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS 41 ill liis liaud, followed her through a long corridor to the general sitting-rooiii, where the iumatt^s were all assembled. There was a flutter of skirts as he entered, aud each one dropped her best courtesy ; but with a grave bow, which included all, he passed them with- out a word and made his way to the farther end of the room where Mrs. Barker was seated. The others pressed a little nearer, but Mrs. Mahew, although herself burning with curiosity, motioned them back as she said : "Mrs. Barker, his excellency, the Governor, would like to speak with you." "Don't rise, madam." It was tlie Governor's deep voice that said this, aud the old woman who had tried to stand, fell back with a stifled moan of pain, while she looked curi- ously at the bearded face above her. "I am told you made this dress." The Governor's voice was husky now, and had dropped almost to a whisper, as he pointed to the gay flowered gown of the doll in his hand. "I did." " May I ask where you obtained the material ? " " My husband bought it for me a good many years ago, when I was a young woman," she said with a sigh, "and I've kept it because he liked it ; an' {Sammy — that was my boy — thought so much of it." " And always liked to see his mother in her pretty * flower-gown,' " cried the Governor, the tears chas- ing each other down his cheeks. "Oh, mother! mother! mother!" and now he was on his knees, with his head in her lap. 42 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS She looked piteously from one to auotlier of the group about her. ^' What does he mean ? " she asked. "Sammy's dead ! There's no one to call me mother ! " The Governor lifted his head and drew her face down so that he could look into her eyes. "Mother, don't you know Sammy?" he said ear- nestly. She shook her head. " Sammy's dead ! " she re- iterated. " No ; no, dear," he cried. " It was all a mistake. Uncle Jim was killed, but I am alive to love and care for you the rest of your life." TJiere was much to explain, and when they were calmer, she learned that he had been captured by the Indians, who had treated him kindly, and after three years given him his freedom. His first thought then had been for his father and mother, and he learned that his father was dead, and his mother gone, no one knew where. In vain he advertised, and after years of searching for her, had come to the conclusion that she, too, was dead. But the long years of loneliness and poverty were over for her now, and they would never be parted again. " You are going homewith me," he said. "I shall take you as my best Christmas present to mj^ wife and babies." Lizzie M. Hadley CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS 43 STAK OF THE EAST By permiisiou of " School aud Home Education," Blooinlngton, 111. BEAUTIFUL Star, that dawned in the Orient, Shedding thy light on the desert's lone way, Led by thy brightness, we, too, would come bringing Our gifts, magi-like, in the manger to lay. Gladly we offer our choicest of treasui-es, Seeking, with these, our allegiance to prove ; But our gems and our myrrh, our gold and frankin- cense. Are offered in vain if not offered in love. Beautiful Star, that with mystical arrow Told where a King was enthroned in a stall, — Oh, fair are the orbs shining nightly above us, But Thou, in Thy splendor, excellest them all. Shine on in the darkness, bright herald of morning ; Shine on down the ages with Instre undimmed. Still leading the way to the sweet Son of Mary, Till through the wide world hallelujahs are hymned. Mary B. Sleight THE GIFT OF THE KIND HEAET By permission of "The Ladies' World," New York IN the long ago there lived in a village a little girl by the name of Iluldah. Her father was a ])()or day-laborer, who had to dejjend on yesterday's work 44 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS for to-day's food. One day the father came home ill, theu Want came in and sat down by the sick man's bedside. The mother did all she could do to drive Want away ; but, if she forced him out at the door, he came in at the window. At last the mother, too, fell ill, and then Despair took his seat by the side of Want. Want and Despair, these were strong foes for a weak girl to fight, but Huldah had courage and love, powerful weapons, even in a child's hands; and, for a time, she managed to secure food and other actual necessities for her parents, though she herself often went hungry. But, at length, there came a morning when there was not a mouthful of food in the house ; and, for the first time. Despair crept near to little Huldah. She thought not of herself, though she had not tasted food for nearly twenty-four hours ; she only thought of her sick father and mother. She knew that they must have food soon or perish. It was a cold wintry day, the day before Christ- mas, but Huldah wrapped her mother's tattered shawl around her head and shoulders; and, after kissing her father and mother good-bye, telling them she would bring a bowl of warm broth back with her, she went out to try to earn a few pennies with which to purchase food. The wind blew through the holes in her shawl and thin clothing, and drove the snow with blinding force against her face. All day long, through the cold and the storm, she wan- dered from house to house, growing colder and weaker as the day grew older ; yet finding no work. CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS 45 Night came aud compelled her to turn her steps homeward, still empty-hauded. She was so weary from the toils of the day, so weak from the lack of food, and so numb with the cold, that she could hardly place one foot in front of the other, and staggered along through the snow like a di'unken man. Suddenly, from out the darkness and snow to the front of her, rushed a giant form, clothed in a great fur coat. Huldah gave a little frightened cry, jumped to one side, slipped on a stone, and fell al- most under the feet of the hurrying man. "Heigh, ho! What have we here!" and a strong hand quickly caught the fallen girl and set her on her feet. "A mite of a lassie ! And alone in the cold and the storm ! " The blue eyes looked searchingly into Huldah's face, w^hile the great bear- skin gloves on the hands gently brushed the snow off the tattered shawl and thin clothes. Evidently the man was in a great hurry, but he stopped long enough to pull off one of the gloves, thrust his hand into his pocket, and place a silver coin in the girl's hand. Then with a loud " Good- bye, little one," he rushed on, and vanished in the darkness and falling snow, Huldah stared at the coin in her hand, her pale face flushed — she had never accepted charity, and she started after the vanishing man. But before she had taken five steps he had gone from her sight. She could not return the money. It was hers. Again her face flushed and her eyes sparkhid, and she ran as fast as her weary feet could carry her to a 46 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS small bakery, which was but three rods from liei owu home. After all, the father aud mother would have the warm broth ! The baker took the mouey, looked at Huldah, aud then poured iuto a large bowl a double portiou of broth. He had a little girl of his owu. Huldah gripped the bowl iu both bauds aud hur- ried away. How delicious the broth smelled ! How comfortable the warm sides of the bowl felt to her cold bauds ! She was quite sure the hot broth would make her father aud mother well agaiu "Oh!" The bowl of precious broth nearly fell from Hul- dah' s bauds iu her fright. Eight down iu front of her a poor man had fallen, headloug, and lay on the ground moaning. He was very old. A few thin locks of white hair hung from under his worn fur cajD, aud his white wrinkled face was drawn and quiveriug with pain. His clothes were old and ragged. He had no shoes, but around his feet were tied bags of sheepskin. "For the love of heaven, give me food and fire ! " called the old man. The cry went straight to Huldah' s heart. She stopped and approached him timidly, until she saw the pitiful condition he was in, then her compassion drove out all her fear. He was so weak he could only lift his thin wrinkled hands toward Huldah, aud repeat: "Fpointment to Woodford Primary to-morrow. I cougratiilate not ouly you, but the towu." THE EMPTY STOCKING By permission of "The Post Dispatch," St. Louis, Mo. rilHE tragedy of children's eyes JL That wake expectant Christmas Day, And find the world yet cold and gray, AVould hush the harps of Paradise. The sob of pain from lips forlorn That thought to babble o'er a doll, But found none answering their call, "Would choke the bliss in Gabriel's horu. The melancholy cry of him Who thought to wake and find a drum, And found no drum at all had come. Would pierce to Heaven's very rim. Dear Santa Clans, oh, hear their prayer I Be careful lest we hear again The tragedy, the sol) of pain Of those whose lives are bare. 112 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS THE CHIMNEY DEUMMEE-BOY By permission of the Author and The Outlook Company, New York ( To be read in drum-major time) THEEE'S a boy I know, and he drums all day, For his chief delight is iu soldier play. 'Tis a very little boy, And a very big drum, And everywhere he goes he makes things hum, With his brum, b-rrr rum-brum, 'm Brum ! Brum ! When the rooster crows at break of day, Then his kettle-drum drums the reveille. At noon and at night. As he comes from school, Then he diuims the " Eetreat from Sebastopol." And the neighbors all hum, When they hear him come — Hi diddle-dumpty, tinkle-taukle-tum, Brum, br-rrr rum-brum, Brum ! Now Santa Claus heard him, one Christmas eve, And he said to himself: ^' 'Tis clear, I perceive, That this idle boy is no good here ; For to study and work are not his sphere. So I'll take him with me, My drummer to be. And I'll feed him on jam and peppercorn tea. And my elves will come CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS i i:i When tliey hear him drum — Plan, lat-a-phiu, tum-e-tum-tum, Brum, br-rrr rum-brum, Brum .' That night, as he slept in his trundle-bed, With his drum and his drum-sticks under his head, They were all whisked off up the chimney flue — The drum stuck tight But the boy went through. Then Santa Glaus sneezed with the soot in his nose, And the boy woke up, as you may suppose. He lost his hold on the chimney rim ; Head over heels he tumbled in — Bim ! (That was his head.) Bim, tumble-in, bim-bim ! (Those were liis heels.) There he is in his own big drum, For he can't get out till the kingdom-come. So he drums all day, to his heart's delight, And the elfins feed him every uiglit. In the fireplace dark, If you listen sharp, When the house is still, and the watch-dogs bark. When the wind's northeast, and the storm is comej Up the chimney glum, You can hear him drum — B-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r f um. Brum ! Willia:\i J. Long 114 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS THE PEACE OF CHEIST By permission of the Author THE mighty wrought thro' the ages ; They ploughed with the lauce, They sowed with the bow, They reaped with the sword. But bitter the fruit of their tillage, The truce of the crushed, The peace of the strong. In all the garnered years One starlit night, In all the ways of earth, One lowly byre is bright. There, where the frosty breath of kine Arose as incense at the shrine. In human mother's love and pain An humble little child was born, Who saw beyond the i>rophet's ken, Who made the gentle message plain — Of, '' Peace on earth, good- will to men.'' The peace of slave and crown. The peace of weak and strorg ; Wide as the sky above, As long as time is long, The peace of God came down, The peace of Love. William Kent CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS 115 LAONG'S CHEISTMAS MISSION By permissiou of " Over Sea and Laad," Fbiladelpbta LAONG was tlie sou of a prosperous Chinese tea- mercliaut of the better class, who did not often mix with the foreign element of Sau Francisco. He had a round olive face with a deep dimple in the chin, dark, bright eyes, and a long, smoothly braided queue. He wore wide, dark-blue trousers and loose jacket prettily oruamented with gold cord and close fitting caj). It was j ust four days before Christmas that he had a talk with the Halburys. ' ' Klismas ? What ' bout Klismas ? " he asked. "Why, Christmas night, long ago, Jesus was born " "Ah, yes," said Laong, with a little smile of instant recollection, "an' angels sing with joy and make all peoples so happy. Ah, yes, I know Klis- mas now." " And we all have good times and give each other nice things to celebrate Christ's birthday because He wishes us to be happy," said Mrs. Hal bury. "When Jesus was here on earth He said whatever we could do for the poor without selfishness He would accept for Himself ; so out of gratitude for His great love and gift to us, we give to the poor and needy, and so have the true Christmas spirit. If we only give to those we love, or expect to receive presents from, in return, we do not fulfil Clirist's commandment. ' ' Laong listened with pleased attention. "Make xi6 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS the poor hapi^y," he asked, "an' that pleases the good Jesus"? lu Chiua, ou feast days, we mek the gods much i^reseiitsof gold an' silver, but if the good Jesus will not have it so " He thought the matter over very carefully ou his way home, and decided that to give to people of his own race would be selfish. Suddenly he saw a child running toward liim from the opjjosite side of the street. At the curb she turned and looked back at the rumbling wagons and fell headlong, losing her tin pail, which rolled down the gutter out of her reach. Laong ran after it and picked it up. "It had three pennies in it," sobbed the child, when she saw the empty pail. "Oh, what shall I do now? Poor Dick can't have any breakfast." "That velly bad," Laong said. "You got no more pennies'?" She shook her head sorrowfully, and both began to search for the lost money. Meantime the child told of a sick brother and no means to buy food and medicine. Laong felt that his opportunity had come. After asking her where she lived, he took from the silk lining of his sleeves a tiny silver piece, which he joyfully offered his little friend, and she, with hearty thanks, ran off to buy Dick's breakfast of milk. Christmas morning dawned clear and mild. Laong began making his small j) reparations immediately after breakfast. "What for, Laong?" Tao asked, watching his son while he sat by smoking his hookah. "For Jesus." the boy answered, and jjaused to CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS 117 explain bis plans. The father turned the matter about iu his miud. His hopes were centred in his only son, and he desired above all things that Laong should grow up to be a good and honorable man ; therefore he made no objections to Laong's plans. First, Laong put into his basket his father's con- tribution of tea and coffee of the finest brand, done up iu colored packages ; then a number of Chinese confections, made of sweet and perfumed rice pow- der and dusted with pink and white sugar ; then candy animals — quite a menagerie, chiefly of the dragon family ; a basket of nuts, cakes and fruits. Lastly, he added some books printed on silverj^ white wood as thin as paper, with beautiful colored pictures ; but he was not quite satisfied, for the bas- ket was not full. He could think of nothing else that would prove acceptable. Yes, there was one thing more — his two gold dollars. These he tu/'ked away in his sleeves, and started off. ^o one noticed the hurrying little figure with the big bamboo basket until he turned into the poorer streets toward the north coast, when a group of un- tidy children gathered about him shouting, "Oh, Johnny Ching ! Got w'asheel How muchee?" Some of the boldest nudged his elbow and poked their soiled fingers through the i^retty pekin cover of his basket, but he took no notice, and bravely stifled the angry thoughts that would rise iu spite of his errand. When he turned into the alley where the Armitages lived the crowd thinned to a few boys, and soon they also turned back, leaving him k) go on iu peace. He went to the basement door ii8 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS and raug the bell. The door was opened by a tall^ pale-faced man, who looked at the little visitor so sharply that Laong quite forgot the ' ' Melly Klismas ' ' he had intended to say. ' ' You' ve made a mistake, ' ' the man said, looking down at his basket. "Try somewhere else," and was about to shut the door, when Laong asked : "Sick boy here?" "Yes, what of him?" Laong held out his basket, smiling cheerfully. "That for him." "Who sent you?" Mr. Armitage asked. "The kind Jesus," answered Laong. " You mistake," repeated the man, " but you may come in and see my son." Laong followed him through the dark hallway into a bare little room where the sick boy sat propped uj) by pillows. Beside him, on the floor, sat a little girl, cutting paper dolls and toys to amuse him. She looked up with a smile of recognition. ' ' Why, that' s the boy that helped me the other day, ' ' she cried. Laong placed the basket on the table, and turned to the boy. " You velly bad sick ? " he asked, sym- pathetically. He took the gold pieces from his sleeves and dropped them into the thin little hand, saying, "From the good Jesus." Then Dick turned to his mother, and said : "Oh, mother, isn't God good to send us this just when we ueed it so much ? ' ' There were tears of joy in Mrs. Armitage' s eyes as she took the little brown hand iu hers and said, CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS 119 *' You've uot ouly helped us iu bodily things, but have taught us to trust God more fully. God bless you." Laoiig smiled brightly, coDseious of haviug served the Lord he loved. He ran down the alley wa}', his little slippered feet twinkling in the sunshine. At the avenue crossing a hand was laid on his shoulder and a ^'oice said : " Merry Christmas, Laong ! And how do you like Christmas?" " Much ! How you like it, Mr. Lessing"? " " I never had a better. Glad yours has been fine. By the way, the schoolhouse was so much injured by the tire next door that the walls are thought un- safe. I am afraid we'll have to stop school for a week, or perhaps a month, unless they can get as many workmen as they want right off. Mind you don't forget all your lessous." "Oh, no, Mr. Lessing, I not forget. But, Mr. Lessing, I know one velly poor man what have no work for velly long time, and no moneys and sick boy. Why uot you let him work there, please? " ****** At the end of the week Laong' s father passed the church dui'ing the meeting, and stopped to hear the singing. In the course of the worship a nuin rose and s;iid : " I must tell you, friends and broth- eis, how God rebuked unbelief and complaining by SL-uding help iu time of need." Then followed the simple story of Laong's deed of love, and how by the child's effort he had received work and his tarn- ily been i)laced above want and misery. I20 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS Tao's heart swelled with ijride and teuderness,- and at the eud of the services, for the first time iu his life, he bowed his head iu devout pjayer to the God of his little sou Laoug. WHEN SANTA GLAUS WAS ILL OLD Father Time, ou Ghristmas Eve, Said auxiously, " I do believe That Father Christmas will be late, He ought to start, it's half-past eight At miduight he is due ou earth, He'll have to rush for all he's worth, It is a shame, upon my word ! " — Just then the telephone was heard. "Hello," said Time. "Hello, who's this?^ "A messenger from Father Kris, He has a bad attack of gout And won't be able to go out. And so he hopes you can supply A substitute for him. Good-bye." " I feared that this would come to pass, For Father Christmas has grown old And cannot stand the frost and cold. But to the waitiug human race I must send some oue iu his place, I'd go myself if 'twas not now CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS 121 My busiest day, I dou't see how I cau be spared, 'tis almost uiue." Tiug-ting ! ''Hello, St. Valeiitiue ! " "Who'stbis!" "I'mTime." "Hello, hello, Christmas is ill, so cau't you go Aud take his place ou earth to-night ? You're just about his size aud height, The differeuce uoue would ever kuow, Come, hurry up, old chap, aud go." "I cau't," St. Valentiue replied, " I've caught a cold, aud theu beside I'm very busy writing lines Aud making up my Valeutiues. I'm sorry. Father Time, but I Cau't go, get some one else. Good-bye." Then Father Time was very vexed, Fourth of July he called up next. But that young urchin laughed in glee, And said, " No Christmases for me ; Too well my face each youngster knows, Besides, I have no winter clothes." "I'll go," the little iN'ew Year said, Time patted the small curly head. And kindly said, "No, boy, not so, But next week, Suuday, you may go." And just theu April Fool came by With mischief in his twinkling eye. He heard the trouble, and said he, "Why, Father Time, I'll go, send me, 122 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS I know the customs of old Yule. I'll wear a loug white beard and wig, And make myself look old and big, And do the best I can for you." As there was nothing else to do Old Time was forced to give consent, And to the April Fool he lent Old Father Christmas' robe and cap. Arrayed in these the merry chap Was sure he'd fool the wisest folk. And went off chuckling at the joke. He reached the earth just at the time The bells rang out their midnight chime, And through the whole of Christmas Daj That tricky April Fool held sway. He thought up all that he could plan To tease the heart of mortal man. Instead of snow and frost and storm The weather was quite mild and warm, The fields were gay with budding flowers. The clouds gave hints of April showers, Instead of Christmas songs all day They heard the street hand-organs play, The children who had hoped to see A Spruce or Hemlock Christmas Tree Discovered in the best front room A Peach or Cherry Tree in bloom. Even the candies were no good, Just cotton, wool, or bits of wood, And somehow no one thought it dioll CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS 123 To find salt in the sugar bowl. He mixed up all the children's toys, Gave drums to girls aud dolls to boys, He gaves the ladies pipes aud canes, And to the men, fans and gold chains, Gav« specks to babies in loug frocks, And to their grandpas, building blocks, Until each Moman, man and child With indignation went ciuite wild. But never did they know or guess AVhy Christmas wasn't a success. And mischief-loving April Fool Laughed at the topsy-turvy Yule. SLY SAXTA CLAUS By permission of "Tho Christian Weelcly," Louisville, Ky. ALL the house was asleep, And the fire burning low, "When, from far up the chimney, Came down a " Ho 1 ho ! " And a little, round man, With a terrible scratching, Dropped into the room With a wink that was catching. Yes, down he came, bumping, And thumping, and juini)ing, Aud picked himself up without sign of a bruise I 124 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS "Ho! ho!" be kept on, As if bursting with cheer. "Good children, gay children, Glad children, see here ! I have brought you fine dolls. And gay trumpets, and rings, Noah's arks, and bright skates. And a host of good things ! I have brought a whole sackful, A packful, a hackful J Come hither, come hither, come hither aud choose ! " Ho ! ho ! What is this? Why, they all are asleep 1 But their stockings are up. And my presents will keep ! So, in with the candies. The books, and the toys ; All the goodies I have For the good girls aud boys. I'll ram them, and jam them, And slam them, and cram them ; All the stockings will hold while the tired youugsterii snooze." All the while his round shoulders Kept ducking and ducking ; And his little, fat fingers Kept tucking aud tuckiug ; Until every stocking Bulged out, ou the wall, CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS 125 As if it were bursting, Aud ready to fall. Aud tlieu, all at ouce, With a whisk aud a whistle, Aud twisting himself Like a tough bit of gristle, He bounced up agaiu, Like the down of a thistle, Aud nothing was left but the prints of his shoes. Mfts. S. C. Stone THE CHRISTMAS TREE IN" THE I^URSERY By permission of" The Independent," New York WITH wild surprise Four great eyes lu two small heads. From ueighboring beds Looked out — and winked — Aud glittered and blinked At a very queer sight In the dim starlight. As plain as can be A fairy tree Flashes and glimmers And shakes and sliimmers. Ked, green aud blue 126 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS Meet their view ; Silver aud gold Their sharp eyes behold ; Small moon, big stars j And jams in jars, And cakes, aud honey And thimbles, and money, Pink dogs, blue cats. Little squeaking rats. And caudles, and dolls, Aud crackers, aud polls, A real bird that sings, And tokens and favors, And all sorts of things For the little shavers. Four black eyes Grow big with surprise ; And theu grow bigger When a tiny figure, Jauuty aud airy, (Is it a fairy?) From the tree-top cries, " Opeu wide ! Black Eyes ! Come, children, wake now ! Your joys you may take now f*^ Quick as you can think Twenty small toes In four pretty rows, Like little piggies piuk, CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS 12 All kick in the air — And before you can wink The tree stands bare ! ElCHAKD \YATS0N GILDER CHRISTMAS THOUGHTS OF all the old festivals, that of Christmas awakens the strongest and most heartfelt associations. There is a tone of solemn and sacred feeling that blends with our conviviality, and lifts the spirit to a state of hallowed and elevated enjoyment. It is a beautiful arrangement, derived from days of yore, that this festival, which commemorates the announcement of the religion of peace and love, has been made the season for gathering together of family connections, and drawing closer again those bands of kindred hearts which the cares, and pleas- ures, and sorrows of the world are continually operating to cast loose ; of calling back the children of a family, who have launched forth in life, once more to assemble about the paternal hearth, there to grow young and loving again among the endear- ing mementoes of childhood. There is something in the very season of the year that gives a charm to the festivity of Christmas. In tlie depth of winter, when Nature lies despoiled of her charms, wrapped in her shroud of sheeted suow, we turu for our gratifications to moral sources. t28 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS Heart calleth uuto heart, aud we draw our pleas- ures from the deep wells of living kiuduess which lie in the quiet recesses of our bosoms. Amidst the geueral call to hapijiness, the bustle of the spirits aud stir of the affectious, which pre* vail at this period, what bosom can remain insensi- ble ! It is indeed the season of regenerated feeling — the season for kindling not merely the fire of hos- pitality in the hall, but the genial flame of charity in the heart. He who can turn churlishly away from contemplating the felicity of his fellow beings and can sit down rei^iniug in loneliness, when all around is joyful, wants the genial and social symj)a- thies which constitute the charm of a merry Christ- mas. Washington Irving CHRISTMAS DAY By permission of "The Ladies' World," New York "VrOW, chile, go hang yo' stockin's high IM Dyar by de chimbly place, 'Fo' Santa Clause goes ridin' by Wid him ole jolly face, Dat's alius smilin' 'cause, dey say, He lubs de chilluu so, An' brings dem gif's each Christmas Day Across de miles ob snow. CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS '29 I's mended dem from top to toe, Dey'l hole de t'iugs yo' need, One li'le garden rake an' hoe, De book yo' longs to read, Wid fife an' drum fo' yo' to play ; Dat Santa Clause boun' know De t'ings yo's j)rayed fo' ebery day An' make yo' happy so. Hang up yo' stockin's den an' resfc He' in yo' little bed, Jes laik de birdies in de nest De mammy bird hab fed, Till jingle, jingle, in de mawu, AVhen all de bells will say : " De holy Chile ob Gawd am bawu All' difs am Christmas Day." EuTH Eaymond. THE LITTLE FELLEE'S STOCKLN' Frtm "Cape Cod Ballad3 and Other Verse," by permission of Albert Braudl, Treutoii, N. J. OIT'S Christmas Eve, and moonlight, and the Christmas air is chill, And the frosty Christmas holly shines and sparkles on the hill ; And the Christmas sleigh-bells jingle and the Christ' mas laughter rings, I30 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS As the last stray shoppers hurry, takin' home the Christmas things ; And up yonder in the attic there's a little trundle bed Where there's Christmas dreams a-dancin' through a sleepy curly head ; And it's ''Merry Christmas," Mary, once agin fer me and you, With the little feller's stockin' hangin' up beside the Hue. 'Tisn't silk, that little stockin', and it isn't much fer show, And the darns are pretty plenty 'round about the heel and toe, And the color's kind er faded, and it's sorter worn and old. But it really is surprisiu' what a lot of love 'twill hold; And the little hand that hung it by the chimney there along Has a grip upon our heartstrings that is mighty firm and strong ; So old Santy won't fergit it, though it isn't fine and new, — That plain little worsted stockin' hangin' xip beside the flue. And the crops may fail and leave us with our plans all knocked ter smash, And the mortgage may hang heavy, and the bills use up the cash, / CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS 131 But whenever comes the seasou, jest so long's we've got a dime, There'll be somethin' in that stoekiu' — won't there, Mary! — every time. And if in amongst our sunshine there's a shower or two of rain, Vhy, we'll face it bravely smiliu', and we'll try not ter complain. Long as Christmas comes and finds us here together, me and you, With the little feller's stockin' hangin' up beside the flue. Joe Lincoln GOING HOME FOR CHRISTMAS By permission of " Judge," New York rpHE rattle of the coaches say X " I'm going, going home to-day." December blooms as blithe as May ; The wind's shriek is a roundelay, "I'm going, going home to-day, Goiug home for Christmas." The snowflakes dance and cry "Hurray ! He's going, goiug home to-day." The skies are blue, or skies are gray, And life is work, or life is play ; Who cares? I'm going home to-day, Goiug home for Christmas. 12,2 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS My foot beats time, my pulses play "I'm goiug, going home to-day." Care turns her back and speeds away, Love smiles upon me light and gay ; I'm goiug, goiug home to-day, Going home for Christmas. Oh, fate may briug me bells, or bay, But I — I'm goiug home to-day. And fortune say me yea, or nay, And fame deny me, or delay, But mistletoe and holly say "I'm goiug, goiug home to-day, Going home for Christmas." MES. MAGUIEE— A CHRISTMAS GIFT By permission of the Author SUEE, it's not the fine 'ating, and such, makes me gay, Now that Chris'mas has come 'round again ; But it's thoughts of one present of last Chris'mas day, That makes me the happiest of men. It was then I kept company, steady, with Kate, Who "lived out" at Smith's over here ; And I went 'round as usual and knocked at thfl gate, Ou the night before Cliris'mas, last year. CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS 133 * O ! " says Katie, says slie, as she opened the gate^ "Sure, I'm glad it's yourself, Pat Maguire." So we set aud we talked till it got mortial late, In the glow of the warm kitchen fire. At last, though I felt kind o' weak at the heart, I tried hard for to swally me fear, And I told her I'd bought her a fine horse and cart, On the night before Chris' mas last year. *' Why," says Katie, "what good is such things to me, Patr' Faith, I never could tell how I got the words out. But I looked down at Katie, and says, "As for that, You will nade them both, Katie, to run me milk route." "If I run your milk route," aud her eyes sought the floor, "Sure, I'll have to take you for to help me, Pat, dear." She's my Chris'mas gift now, for it's married w© were, On the night after Chris'mas, last year. Thomas A. Daly TURNED OUT By permission of "The Ladies' World," New Yoric "TOSEPH." ^^ "Yes, aunt?" The kettle steamed vigorously over the fire. 134 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS Dick, the cat, purred ou the braided rug before the stove. Everything spoke of peace and couteutiueut ; of rest, blessed rest, after the toil of the day. Upon this was Joseph's miud dwelling as he settled him- self iu his easy chair and lifted his carpet-slippered feet to his favorite attitude. "Joseph," said his aunt, never lifting her eyes from her work, while the deep-set lines about her mouth grew deeper and firmer, *' I have decided to get ou alone this winter." There, it was out ! The old woman's rocker in- creased the cadence of its creaking, but still she kept her eyes u^jon her knitting. As for Joseph, the look of astonishment, then consternation, that came over his face was pitiful to see. He brought down his feet from their j)lace of ease, half turned in his chair till he could see his aunt's rigid expression, and exclaimed in a voice iu which all the trouble of his face was reproduced '. "Alone? why, aunt, what have I done? Ain't I 'tended to the wood, and ain't I helped you wash, and ain't I done everything for yer that I could ? Be yer sick of seein' me 'round! Why, aunt," his voice broke as his eyes filled, "why, aunt, I didn't know I wasn't a-pleasin' yer." The cadence of the chair increased yet again, and Mary waited a moment before answering. " 'Tain't you, Joe," she said, finally ; "it's me, I guess. But I tell yer, Joe, I' ve been thinking it over all summer, and if I am an old woman I ain't quite laid on the shelf yet, and I ain't a-goin' to be, neither." As she talked, her feelings overcame her timidity CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS 135 of speecb, aud now she set forth her views with the peut-up feeliugs of teu mouths. " iSTo, sir ! I aiu't quite bed-riddeu yet. Here I've beeua-raunin' this liouse for forty years, and never a day but what I was glad there wa'n'tuo niau botherin' 'round. AVho dug the gardiug aud planted it, year iu an' year out, before you came I I did. Who threw iu the wood an' piled it up iu the shed every fall "? I did. Who's drawed the water a pail at a time all these years, aud who even laid the shiugles on the ell an' barn teu years ago I I did. I did, Joe Ger- rish, aud you know it. Now do you think I'm a-goiu' to see my home taken right out of luy hands an' me a-dependin' on somebody else! Well, I ain't." "But the 'rangement. auntie, the 'rangemeut," said Joe, grasping like a drowning man at the only straw in sight; ''you know the ^rangement was that I do the work around, and make ray home here the rest of mj^ days, and that some time, some time when you get through, aunt, I was a-goin' to have the place. Wa'n't that the understandin', Aunt Mary ? " "Providiu', Joe, providin' that at the end of a year everything was satisfactory. Wa'n't that what I said? Didn't you agree to that, now? Tell me, now, didn't you agree to it ? " "Yes, I agreed to it, aunt, I agreed to it ; but 1 never once'spectedyerwa'n'tsatisfied with me. I've tried awful hard to please yer, aunt. I've done all I could to spare yer ; I've scrubbed and dug, and dug and scrubbed. Why, aunt, it's a-comiu" ou 136 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS wiuter and there's the paths to shovel aud the well to dig out, and you know how the snow always drifts up against the door ? " "That'll do, Joe, that'll do. Ain't I shoveled down them drifts for nigh onto forty year, an' ain't I dug out that well many a time ? I tell yer I won't give up if I am over eighty years @ld. I guess I ain't got the old Stover blood in my veins for nothin' ! It ain't you, Joe ; you've done well enough, that is, well enough for a man ; but I've lived alone for a good spell and I ain't goin' to give up yet. Yer needn't hurry 'bout makin' 'range- meuts 'bout a boardin' place if yer don't want to, but as soon as yer do get out I want to clean the room and shut it up for the winter. I know yer've tried, Joe, but a man does make a powerful lot o' dirt 'round. Sort o' seems to be their natur's." Turned out ! Joe looked around at the homely, jold- fashioned iaruiture of the kitchen, at the splint- ered wood-box he had filled so often, at the stove he htid so skilfully mended, aud thereby given a long, new lease of life. Turned out ! His eye caught sight of the big, round face of the clock he had wound every Sunday morning jus* after breakfast. He had never noticed before that he clock could talk, but the measured tick of the i judulum, as it swung to and fro, seemed to echo the words of his brain, "turned — out, turned — out j turned — out. ' ' Oh, but ^t was hard to be turned out how ! Xot but that td could continue to do oddjobsandso earn a livi jg from the more pretentious neighbors ; CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS 137 his services were alM-ays in demand. But the ohl house hatl become home to liim. To sit down at night and draw oii'his heavy bools, putou his warm, roomy slippers, and after supper, with Dick on his knees or close beside him, think over his thoughts in quiet, was joy enough and to spare. *' Turned out, turned out," whistled the November wind as it rattled the window and shook the shutters, and in its troubled sleep that night, the gray head turned on the pillow and the bearded lips muttered again and again : "turned out, turned out." December came. It was a hard month. Great storms piled the streets, and country, city, and ship- ping suffered. Christmas for Joe Gerrish, had he been a different man, would have had little of cheer and much of bitter memory. But in his one little room he kept his diminutive stove fiercely going, and before it he rubbed his hands gleefully. "A snug little harbor, a snug little harbor," he repeated over and over again. To see this room without its occupant was to see a room, habitable, but very cheerless. But to see it on that Christmas night, with the gray-headed man sitting contentedly before the glowing stove, was to see it transformed. The peaceful patience of that face was more than the touch of art to any room, and in its presence the bare walls and floor, the cracked window glass and poor furnitui-e were forgotten. Once he had gone to the old house in the e;iily morning after a big storm and begun to shovel away the snow, hoping to have it done and get away uu- 138 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS observed by bis aunt, but scarcely had be sboveled a foot, before a window went up, and a familiar voice bade bim to " Get out and let ber alone," and be bad " got out," and ever since bad stayed away, Neigbbors noticed tbe forlorn-looking old woman sboveling away alone, but no one knew tbe battle tbat proud spirit was figbtiug against bodily weak- ness, and no one, mucb less Joe, realized bow in bf r beart sbe longed for tbe strong arm of bim who bad been tbe only belper sbe bad known in forty years. It wasn't quite as sbe tbougbt it would be — not quite what it was before Joe came. Tbe cry of fire and tbe brigbt glare of tbe blaze brought Joe into tbe street with all the speed be could muster. The fire was near, and Mary's bouse might be in danger. This was bis one tbougbt. Xo remembrance that he had been told to "get out," and hurrying along the street be reached the corner just in time to see Hose Four come dashing up with the chief. Millions of sparks were joining the myriad stars in the heavens and floating swiftly off, bright and beautiful agents of terror and destruction. Tbe fire was in a large, costly stable, and had spread to tbe house, and though the chief was everywhere present with words of encouragement and advice, in half an hour three bouses bad gone, and the fire was still spreading. How they worked, those monster engines ! How they snorted and shook and spit fire as they sucked up every well and cistern in the street, and at last, when the water was almost gone, the fire was known CFIRISTMAS SELECTIONS 139 to be nnder control. All eyes were ou the meu at the pipes aud ou the ladders, but iu the next street no one saw the desperate battle for a home, for a little, old, weather-beaten house that would have hardly received mention in the morning j)aper8. In her little yard over in Button Street, old Mary Stover was alternately drawing pail after pail of water, throwing it as high as possible (which was hardly above the windows) and wringing her hands iu Aespair, wheu around the corner of the house burst Joe, his hat gone and coat open to the wind. With- out a minute's hesitation he forced in the shed door, pulled out the old ladder and mounted to the roof. Already the shingles were burning in a dozen places, and as Mary drew the water and passed it, Joe threw it right and left. Few roofs caught, for nearly all iu the neighborhood were slated, aud the Aviud seemed to single out the little old house with its cedar shingles for its especial prey. Faster and faster fell the glowing embers, and where they touched, tiny, swiftly- spreading flames sprang up. The old man's knees were growing lame and weak ; his soaking clothes froze and his hands blistered as with them, while waiting for water, he smothered the fire here and there. At last the water ceased to come, and looking down he saw Mary sitting ex- hausted by the well. Her strength had failed at last aud she could do no more. Not a word had paased between them since he came, aud of their past differences neither had a thought. Clambering quickly down he took the exhausted womau iu his arms and carried her into the house, I40 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS tlien, hurrying out again, drew each pail of watei himself, and climbing up the ladder, threw it about on the roof. But, thank heaven ! the worst was over, and the dear old house was safe. The old man wet the last glowing shingle, then slowly and painfully felt his way down from round to round and stood shivering in the snow, looking at the door in indecision. Then he tottered into the kitchen and lay down. Dick crept up to him with an appreciative purr and rubbed his nose against the old man's face, while the blistered and blackened hand came up and stroked him, and then Joe knew no more. When he woke it was to find himself on the familiar horsehair sofa, with blankets tucked in about him, and Mary kneeling beside him with tears streaming down her wrinkled cheeks. "Oh, Joe, will you stay now? Tni so sorry! I'm only an old woman, Joe ; will you stay now?*' "Why, aunt," answered Joe, "why, aunt, it's good of you to take me in. 'Course Til stay." And the big clock ticked its measured strokes, but now it said : " Tucked-iu," "tucked-in." Frank Hazlewood Eowe A BALLADE OF OLD LOVES from "Idle Idyis," by permission of Messrs. Dodd, Mead &Co., New Voiii WHO is it stands on the polished stair, A merry, laughing, winsome maid, From the Christmas rose in her golden hair CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS 14^ To the high-heeled slippers of spangled suede f A glauce, half daring and half afraid, Gleams from her roguish eyes downcast ; Already the vision begins to fade — 'Tis only a ghost of a Christmas Piist. Who is it sits in that high-backed chair, Quaiutl}^ in ruff and patch arrayed. With a mockery gay of a stately air As she rustles the folds of her old brocade, — Merriest heart at the masquerade ? Ah, but the picture is passing fast Back to the darkness from which it strayed — ■ 'Tis only a ghost of a Christmas Past. Who is it whirls in a ball-room's glare, Her soft white hand ou my shoulder laid, Like a radiant lily, tall and fair, While the violins in the corner played The wailing strains of the Serenade ? Oh, lovely vision, too sweet to last — E'en now my fancy it will evade — 'Tis only a ghost of a Christmas Past. L' ENVOI. Eosamond ! look not so dismayed, All of my heart, dear love, thou hast Jealous, beloved ? Of a shade ? — 'Tis only a ghost 01 a Christmas Past. Carolyn Weli^ 142 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS CHREES'MAS TIME By permission of the Author " pHREES'MAS time ees vera fuDua ! ^ I DO feel dees way bayfore. I gon' out au' speuda moua Teel I no gat any more. Jus' blowed dollar' ii half for Eosa — Dollar' u half for buy a dug ! All for her ! I no supposa She gon' geev me auyt'ing. Chrees'mas mak' your heart so tender Like a snowball weun eet melts ; You no care how mooch you spenda Jus' for pleasin' some wan else. Dat'sa way dees Chrees'mas fever Catcha me. I got eet bad ! I no care how mooch I geev her, Jus' so long eet mak' her glad. I no want her geev me notting ; I gon' mak' dees praisant free, Jus' baycausa Eosa tol' me She gon' marry weetha me. Chrees'mas time ees vera fuunal I no feel dees way bayfore. I gon' out an' spenda mona Teel I no gat any more." Thomas A. Daly CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS 143 A CHRISTMAS CAROL By permission of" Pall Mall Gazette," London, England mHE trees are hung with crystal lamps, the wold i- lies still and white, 4rid the myriad little twiukliug stars are sharp with keener light ; The moou sails up the frost-clear sky aud silvers all the suow, As she did, perchauce, that Christmas night, two thousand years ago ! Good people, are you waking ? Give us food aud give us wine, For the sake of blessed Mary And her Inftiut Son Divine, Who was born the world's Redeemer — A Saviour — yours aud mine ! Long ago angelic harpers sang the song we sing to- day. And the drowsy folk of Bethlehem may have listened as they lay ! But eager shepherds left their flocks, aud o'er the desert wild The kingly sages journeyed to adore the Holy Child ! Has any man a quarrel I Has another used you ill ? The friendly t\ord you meant to say, Is that unspoken still? — Then, remember, 'twas the Angels Brought glad tidings of good will ! 144 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS Of all the gifts of Christmas, are you faiu to wiu tlie best? Lo ! the Christ-child still is waiting Himself to be -your quest ; No lot so high or lowly but He will take His part, If you do but bid Him welcome to a cleau aud ten- der heart. Are you sleeping, are you waking ? To the Manger haste away, And you shall see a wond'rous sight Amid the straw and hay. — 'Tis Love Himself Incarnate As on this Christmas Day ! Christian Burke WHEN ELIZABETH WENT HOME By permission of " McClure's Magazine,'' New York IT was only five o'clock, but the wide, far-stretch- ing i)rairie lay swathed in twilight, and the scene was unspeakably dreary to Elizabeth as she stood gazing out into the deepening dusk. "At home," she mused, and the word vibrated in her mind with an aching tenderness, "the elec- tric lights are gleaming along the streets, the trolley cars are full of haj3py Christmas shoppers. Papa has come in now and hurries off to his room with various mysterious bundles ; Alice and Dick are hobnobbing together in a corner over mamma's pres- CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS 145 ent. Alter diuuer, some of the crowd will come in and there will be music and daucing, then later a jolly little supper around the chafiug-dish." She turned from her thoughts to the gray str^h outside. ''Snow, stillness — couutry, country, coun- try ! I hate it ! I like noise and lights and good times and people ! Oh, I want to go home ! I want to go home ! " Her husband was coming now. Stamping the snow from his feet he entered the warm room. " It' s awfully cold outside,'' he remarked. The wife made no response, and the man said no more until she summoned him to the evening meal. Then he ven- tured, "It doesn't seem possible that day after to- morrow is Christmas, does it?" " Please don't remind me of it, Eobert," she cried sharply. The man winced and put down his coffee- cup. Suddenly he gave his shoulders an energetic little shake. "Elizabeth," he said, "let's hurry and get through, then we can s];)end the evening packing your trunk, for you must start home in the morn- ing. You will arrive Christmas afternoon, in time for most of the festivities, and you can stay just as long as you like." Elizabeth looked at him with startled eyes. " What do you mean? " she asked, " you know very well " "Just this, dear " broke in the man, "you nuist take the seventy five dollars w^e saved to get new machinery in th^ spring. I'll manage about that somehow." "\Yhy— why, I couldn't do that," stammered 146 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS Elizabeth, but with hope mouutiug iu her heart, " 1 won't do it." " Oh, yes, you will," he replied. '^ I think I can get the machinery somehow, but we won't talk about that now. Nothing matters except for my sad little girl to find her hai)py heart again." "Oh, Eobert, you're so good, so good! And what a poor wife I am ' So selfish and unkind to you ! But, Eobert, you can't understand. You can't realize how I ache to go home. The snow and stillness and bigness of everything gets on my nerves. It wasn't so bad iu the early summer when the woolly buffalo grass was so soft and pretty, and the sky was so blue ; and when mamma and Alice were here, it was fine, but, oh, this winter ! And we've been married a year and a half, and I've never been home once ! When we planned to go this Christmas, I was so happy, and then things went wrong and we couldn't afford it. Oh, Eobert, I know I oughtn't to go, but I do want to ! But I won't stay long, and when I come back I'll be the best wife in the world ! " So it was settled. The pretty trousseau, almost unworn, was prepared for the Eastern journey. Early the next day they drove over to the nearest town, where Elizabeth was to take the east-bound train. To their dismay, they learned that the train was two hours late. "Eobert, you need not wait. There are so many things you ought to do back at the house. I'll tele- graph home. It will help to pass the time." "Very well, dear. And here's a note I wrote CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS 147 you last uiglit ; I was rather wakeful. Eead it some time ou the way. Good-bye, then ; have a good time aud be happy. Good-bye." Elizabeth went back into the station and sat down. There was only one other person in the room, a gaunt, flat-chested German woman. Then Eliza- beth tore open her note and read : "This is only a few words to bid my little wife Godspeed, and say a few other things that 1 want to say now while I see them, clearly. It has come upon me lately that I have wronged you in bring- ing you to this lonely place. My boyhood was passed in the country and I love it, and you, catch- ing a little of the enthusiasm, were willing to come. So I refused the kind offer of your Uncle Henry. The stifling round of the office fevers me. But you were made for the easier, more sparkling life of the city, and the happiness of you is the happiness of me, so if your uncle's offer is still open to me, I will accept it, if you so desire. But if you could find it in your heart to give this life a few more months' trial, I feel sure the crops this year will be as good as they were poor last year, and then we could make this home more like your old one. But if you feel that you do not wish to make the trial, then say so, aud your wish shall be my wish. Have a happy visit, and God keep you." Elizabeth's tears fell on the note before sh(5 had finished. "There is not another in the world so good as Robert," she thought ; " I won't try to de- cide now about the farm, I'll wait till I get homa I'd better telegraph now." 148 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS • Slie turned toward the little room wliere tlie operator sat, and then hesitated ; somehow the keen edge of her eagerness was dulled. The home vision was not so radiant as it had seemed. She remem- bered her brother Dick and his friends, with their well-groomed persons, their jwlished fliijpaney, and then she thought of Robert in his worn ulster, his cheeks glowing from the wind of the prairie ; but with loneliness in his sober eyes. She drew her hand across her forehead with a gesture of trouble and dissatisfaction, and then her eyes fell upon the old German woman on the other bench. A dull, colorless creature she was, who might have been anywhere between twenty-five and forty. One would hardly have noticed her a second time, but for the expression of grief that dignified her un lovely face. Every once in a while a tear fell from her eyes, and rolled down her faded cheeks. Eliza- beth, always tender-hearted in the presence of suffering, walked over to her. "Is there anything I can do for you?" she asked timidly. "Nobody can't do nottings," replied the woman. "My man been dead." "Oh," said Elizabeth, helplessly, "I'm sorry. Has he been dead long?" The woman moved over for Elizabeth to sit be- side her, and began to talk eagerly. It was a relief to pour out some of the trouble in her heart to this kindly stranger. "No, miss; one week he has been dead. Ten years Chris and me's been married. Chris hadn't uo learning, but he was good looking, yes. J had CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS 149 jearuiug. I could read and some T could write. I worked iu the canning factory mit Gnssie and Tina, and lots of other girls, and sooch fun we been hav- ing. Then 'long come Chris and asked me won't I marry mit him, and I did. But he ain't high-toned like me, and he want to have a farm, and we did come way out here. But I never did like it, no. It sads me to hear the wolves in the night-time, and everything is that still ! And I don't like never to see nobody. I want to see Tim and Gussie and work iu the canning factory again already, and I. ask him to go, but he say no. And I sass him and sass him, and he don't say mooch, and never don't beat me, and now he been dead, my man beeu dead." Her stooped shoulders shook with sobs. "And now what are you going to do!" asked Elizabeth, huskily. "I'm going to try to get into the canning factory again already. But I don't want to work iu the canning factory, no. I want to live out on the prairie mit Chris. It wouldn't sad me no more. Meiu Gott, I been one fool ! Wolves don^'t matter. Never seeiu' nobody don't matter. Nothiu' matter but your mau !" Elizabeth rose and grasped the woman's hand. The light that never was on sea or laud was in her eyes. "Yes, you're right. Nothing matters but your man. Thank you ! And good-bye!" It was Christmas Eve. Eobert sat alone in the little house and looked into the fire. The ho(»k where Elizabeth's jacket had hung was empty. x50 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS Her little overshoes were gone, too. He dared not turn his eyes in that direction. Suddenly he bowed his head in his hands. "I am a failure," he said bitterly. "I have failed with the farm. I have failed with Elizabeth." Tears fell upon his tanned cheeks — not the quick, bright tears of childhood, but the awful tears of manhood that start in the deeps of the heart and come by a slow, burning pathway to the eyes. Then Elizabeth came. Her cheeks glowed, and her eyes were dazzling lovelights. "Oh, Eobert," she cried, "I couldn't go. I couldn't endure Christmas without you. And of course we'll try Dakota a little longer — for- ever, if you like. I shall never hate it again, for — ' nothing matters but your man.' " Ethel Bowman Eonald HOW THE CHRIST-FLOWER BLOOMED By permission of " The I^adies' World," New Yorl£ DARK was the sky that Christmas Eve, The heavy clouds hung low ; The charcoal burner scarce could trace His pathway through the snow. Black Forest trees stood thick and tall^ Black Forest drifts were deep j / CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS 151 Yet, light of heart, he hasteued home, The Christmas Feast to keep. He stumbled on, when through the blast A piteous cry was heard, And close beside him, heaped in snows, A wailing infant stirred. *'Kow who has laid thee here, sweet babe, To perish in the storm ? 'Tis Christmas Eve ; I'll take thee home, My cloak shall wrap thee warm." The tiny creature, as he spoke. He gathered to his breast, And there beyond, his cottage shone, lu Chi^istmas firelight dressed. AVithin the good- wife's tender arms The shivering waif was set, And children's faces bent above, And eyes with pity wet. "Warm and content, the stranger babe Gazed wondering o'er the room, And spied at last the children's tree, A Christmas rose in bloom. Eager they ran to show the lights, And round their treasure pr(>ssed ; When lo ! a glimmering cloud of mist Enwrapped the v/oudrous guest. 152 CHRISTMAS SELECTION^ Ou silver-shiuiug wiugs lie rose, His fair head bore a crown, Aud vanishing, with baby hands He wafted blessings down. Next morning, where, amid the snows, The Babe had made his bed, Fair as a star, and dazzling white, The Christ-flower raised its head. They bore it home, and every year, In depths of winter wild. Within that cot chiysanthemums bloom Where came the Holy Child. NoKA Aechibalb Smith 0¥ CHEISTMAS EVE By permission of the Author ALMOST any man can say it. Can say, "Baby, go to bed" ; But how many can enforce it. When a little tousle-head Perks his head up sort of sideways In the way we daddies know. And says, half a smile, half fearful, '•Papa, me don't 'ants to doe." / CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS 153 And pleads, "Me aiu't s'eepy, papa, Me dou't 'auls to doe to bed." And you see the curls a-tumbie Ou the little baby head ; And you look up at his mother, In a deprecating way, And you hide behind your paper, And you let the baby stay. Yes, most any dad can say it, Can say, "Baby, go to bed" ; But how many can enforce it AYheu a little tousle-head Says, "I'ms busy now a-watchin' For Santa Claus ; dou't x)apa know?" Smiling, "I'ms ain't s'eepy, papa," Pleading, "I'ms don't 'ants to doe." JUDD MoitTIMER LEWIS CHRISTMAS, PRITHEE By permission of "The Living Age" Co., Boston CHRISTMAS, prithee, be thou drest In thy best — Snowy wimple, snowy gowu — Laying down Flooring pure and white, to greet Jesu's feet. Gloria in Excelsis. 154 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS Bid tliy frosty handmaids bear Through the air Cloth of silver, for thy veil Clear and frail, While the robins welcome sing To thy king. Gloria in Excelsis. Angels o'er thy radiant brow Leaning low, Joyous, carol once again Sweet refrain, Seeing our dark earth so fair, "Peace be there, Gloria in Excelsis." THE CHEISTMAS PEACEMAKER. By permission of "New England Magazine," Bosloa LIFE was a series of abbreviations to Lucinda Ellen, even to her name, which had been cut down to Cinders. Time for Lucinda Ellen was a succession of weeks filled in by blue Mondays, with no holidays, jolly Saturday afternoons or peaceful Sundays to leaven the lump. The world's population she insensibly divided into two classes, with one crowned head : boarders who paid, boarders who didn't, and Mrs. Btogers. Six years before, Mi«. Stogers had taken the child /' CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS 155 from one of those Homes for orphans where all the little children wear clothes made of the same mate- rial, cut by one pattern ; and six years — when a person is but thirteen — to look back \\y>oi\ is prac- tically always. During that time Cinders had washed dishes, battled with dust, and run endless errands, on small, weary feet. Love had uever come her way. Yet it did not follow that because uobody loved Luciuda Ellen, she did not know what love was. She had always loved something, if it had beeu only a rag doll, aud upon this object, whatever it happened to be, showered a positively abject devo- tion. It was the way she was made. At present her heart's delight was a diminutive one-eyed cat. When night came, aud the last dish had beeu shelved, the kitchen swept, aud the stove garnished till it satisfied the soul of Hannah— Mrs. Stogers" prime minister, aud, incidentally, cook — the child would go wearily up the many stairs to her own room under the roof with its tiny, slanting window looking uj)ward at the stars. The cat always fol- lowed, aud when Cinders curled herself up on the chair that stood beneath the window, he would spring to the back of it, and say, in his own fashion, all the nice things he could think of to the forlorn little maiden. One evening she had come to her room very 1 ired. It had beeu a Monday of deepest indigo, and the spirit of the child had rebelled against fate. A fierce hatred of Mrs. Stogers aud Hannah possessed Her, and filled her eyes with hot tears. (56 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS Suddenly there floated through the room a souud so sweet, so tlirilliug sweet, she sprang to her feet, clasping the cat tightly as a protection, for she was half afraid. Some one was playing on a violin, but that the child did not know, and a fancy floated over her that an angel had slipped down into Mrs. Stogers' attic on a bar of moonlight, and had brought his harp with him. The street-pianos were her chief joy, and a German band, no matter how broken- winded, had hitherto filled her with ecstasy ; but this was different, — Mrs. Stogers' walls had never echoed to such sounds before. Cinders stole out into the hall and listened. The door of the next room whence the sound came was ajar, so she pushed it open quickly. A man stood there, his violiu tucked under his chin. He stopped playing after a moment, and spoke to the child. "Hello ! " he said, smiling. " Who are you 1 " "Cinders," she answered, drawing a longbreatho " Oh, you do play lovely, sir ! " He laughed and began tuning his violin. " Come in, if you'd like to. I'll play again. It's refresh! ng to be appreciated. It's what we all want, don't you know, to be appreciated. Are you appreciated, lit- tle one?" "No, sir," answered the child. "Oh, no, sir, 1 ain't." ' ' What a regular little witch ! Is that your famil- iar spirit ? Where did they ever get you ? " "From a home," answered Cinders. "An' — he ain't a spirit — he's a cat. An' I ain't a witch. I wish't I was ; then I'd change Mrs. Stogers into a CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS 157 cow, au' Haunah into a monkey, an' I'd turn things to gold, an* live in a castle ; an' I'd never do aiiy- tbiug but listen to music like you played, an' I'd have fairies bring me ice-cream on little trays every hour, an' I'd buy a real diamond collar for the cat, an' I'd marry a prince ! " " Where's your mother? " asked the man. "I haveu*t any — nor a father — nor nobody." "We're in the same boat, then," he answered. "I have an aunt, who thinks she owns me, body and soul." "Like Mrs. Stogers does me?" "Yes, probably. But this aunt of mine has a mortgage on me, unfortunately. I have lived with her, I owe her everything. She is still liberal. She says I may be rich, going her way, with the al- ternative of being jjoor, going my own. It can be seen which I have chosen. It was the one possible way ; a man can't be browbeaten." He was talk- ing to himself now. "I must go," said Cinders. "Mrs. Stogers wouldn't let me be bothering you. Will you play some other time?" "I will" "Thank you, and good-night, sir." The melody Cinders had heard sung itself to her till it put her to sleep. Every evening before Dan Thorald went to the theatre to play, he played on the small brown in- strument, and Cinders and the cat listened. When he returned, he stayed in his room writing, as though his life depended upon it. Cinders fietted 158 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS at the thought of him in the cold room, where he sat, his overcoat buttoued to his throat. He finished his work and seut it away, then tried to put in the time practicing, but the weather was frosty, and his fingers could not handle the bow. Yet he was not without hoi)e. If the opera he had sent was received, he would go home for Christmas victorious, and show the woman who thought she owned his destiny that he was able to do his own work in the world, in his own way. But what Thorald did not count upon was illness — that thief in the night. One morning, two weeks before Christmas, he did not' come down to breakfast, and Mrs. Stogers mounted the steep stairs to ascertain the reason. No answer was given to her knocking, so, the door being unlocked, she went in. Her lodger was toss- ing his head to and fro on the pillow. He called Mrs. Stogers " Aunt Emily," and she said afterward the way his eyes stared gave her chills, so she sent him to the hospital. Cinders watched the ambulance take him away, then she rushed to her room and flung herself down on the floor. She did not cry, for it was past crying with Cinders. "If I knew where that old aunt lived, I'd find her," she said, sitting up and gazing with melancholy eyes at the cat. " There might be a letter or something in that leather case of his. I don't like lookin', but I guess I must." She went into the deserted room, and in a fever of hope and fear she searched quickly. In a pocket of the dress-suit was a letter directed to " Miss Emily CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS 159 Thorald." Then followed the name of a town Cin- dfi'S had heard meutioued often, for it was not far away. "I'll write," she said, rejoicing in the ac- complishment. "Yes, I'll write, an' get the money from my bank for the paper and stamps." This bank was a tin building kept by Mrs. Stogers in her own room. Any coin of the realm that Cin- ders chanced to receive she was condemned to de- posit therein. Kow she abstracted this buildiug from the site it had so long occupied, and shook out enough coppers to make her j)urchases, then wrote as follows: "Miss Emily Thorwald : Your nefu is took ill with a fit of sickness. If you don't come to him he will die. There ain't nobody cares if he does or not but me. He is at the Hospittle, and is out of his head. Hana says the Hospittle is orful. AVith respecc, Lucinda Ellen." This Cinders posted, and waited. More than a week went by. She escaped once and went to the hospital. The porter told her Thorald was very ill, and that no one had come to see him. She made up her mind on the way home that she would go for Thorald' s aunt herself. There was a desperate pain at her heart that made inaction impossible. About dusk she slipped out of the house, dressed in what Mrs. Stogers called her best clothes, the tin bank clasped to her breast. The cat followed, scent- ing adventure in the air. The city looked gay and bright. The great buildings were trimmed with the snow's ermine and the frost's lace, as in honor of the approaching feast-day. There was cedar before the shojis and bunches of glistening holly behind the i6o CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS windows. She passed butclier shops where rows aud rows of turkeys, all butchered to make a Christmas holiday, aud where pigs of cheerful counteuauce, adorued with paper ros(«, aud holdiug lemous iu their mouths, appeared to rejoice in their fate. On and on sped her light footsteps, for she knew the way. Silver sleigh-bells raug on the frosty air, but she did not know she heard them. The man iu the ticket- office at the station stared as she asked for her ticket and handed him the tin bank. "Break it open," said Cinders, "and take out the money, please. I think there's enough. I tried to get it open, but I couldn't." So far her faith iu humanity had not been in error. The official wrenched the box open, took the needed amount, aud handed back the rest with the ticket. People were all kind, she thought — the brakeman who helped her aboard the train, the con- ductor, all of them. Perhaps it was because the Christmas spirit m as abroad iu the land, or else that the serious little face, framed iu its bronze brown hair ; the tremulous red lips and eager, appealing eyes, were hard to re- sist. The train sped ou, aud Cinders waited, the cat, who had escaped all pursuit, purring calmly beside her. When the station was reached, she weut to the driver of an ancient cab and asked him if he could take her to Miss Thorald's house, "I want to gel there very quickly," she said, "and here\s the money," handing him the balance on hand. CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS i6i "All rigbl, lady," he answered ; ' ' get riglit iu. Ye' 11 be there in a jifiy." "• If it had beeu daylight he wouldn't have called me that," thought the child. As to how she should return she did uot trouble. No thought of ]\Irs. Stogers disturbed her. Xo fear, though the hour was late aud the place strange. One idea alone held her mind. After a little while the cab.drew uj) before such a house as Cinders had seen in pictures. She went up the steps and pulled the great brass bell-knob. A stiff, wooden-looking uiau answered the door. ''I want Miss Thorald," Cinders said eagerlyj *' an' I want her at once, if you i)lease." The butler led her in and went for his mistress. Cinders sprang to her with outstretched arms„ "^^Tly didn't you cornel" she cried reproach- fully. "I told you how ill be was. Are you so angry you will let him die all alone ? " The woman grew white and caught her breath strangely. *'I don't understand. AVho are you, child ? What have you come for ? " Little by little Cinders told her story— of the man in his attic room ; of the music she loved ; of the opera that had been sent away ; of the cold days and nights. It was a childish tale, mixed in the telling, but the listener understood at last. "If they took his opera in New York he was com ing home for Christmas ; when people are successful; they come home. When they ain't, why they don't," Cinders ended gravely. i62 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS "My proud boy," said tlie woman, her lips qnivering ; " my proud boy ! " Theu she kissed Ciuders. " It was very queer to be kissed," Cinders thought^ as she lay that night in a little white bed in one of the beautiful rooms. It had not been possible to reach the city till next morning. At noon Miss Thorald entered the white hospital ward and found the one she sought. But it was not that day that he knew her, nor the next. She listened to him talk- ing — of the liours spent in the cold, lonely room — of his work — of Cinders, the only one who seemed to care, and she prayed as she listened. As for Cinders, Miss Thorald kept the child with her ; for there are ways of settling things when one has a friend rich and determined, and Cinders had found such a friend. It was Christmas day that they went together into the ward where Dan Thorald lay. He would know them, the nurse said. "Why, it's Cinders and Aunt Emily," he cried weakly, as they came near. "I guess you don't know it's Christmas," said Cinders, with tear-filled eyes. " Christmas ! No, but I might have, I've got such a lot of presents — Aunt Emily, and you, little one, and this victorious letter from New York. Mrs. Stogerg brought it. At first the nurse wouldn't let me read it, for fear excitement would kill me. I told her I'd die if she didn't. That ended it." "Oh, I'm so glad, so glad," cried Ciuders, clasp- ing her hands. \ \ CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS 'i^ *' I kuew I could count on vou ; but Aunt Emilv, you won't mind if I go my own way — now ? It will be a successful one." "Go your own way, dear boy," she answered, softly, '• I will follow. It is what women always do — in the end. I mind nothing — for I have you again —my Christmas gift — from God." YiRNA Sheard SANTA CLAUS IN HOLLAND By permission of " The Ladies' World," New York "]^0^y, children, listen to my tale — • -^ Believe me, it is true ; When Santa Glaus to Holland goes He looks 'round for a shoe. He finds it near the chimney, wide, "Where you a stocking hang ; And when the house is dark and stiU Old Santa, with a bang, Comes tumbling down into the room Where Hans and Gretchen lie, And looks 'round for the wooden shoes; Soon as they meet his eye, If Gretchen's words have gentle beeu Through all the long year p;ist ; (64 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS If Hans has been a thonghtful boy, Then Santa Claus will cast Into each little wooden shoe Knives, marbles, dolls and toys ; For, don't yon see, he knows right well What i)leases girls and boys. But if their words have angry been, With quarrels not a few, Ah, then old Santa leaves a whip Within each wooden shoe ! So little Haus and Gretchen try To be so good and kind, That they shall never in their shoes A whip, on Christmas, find. Helen M. KichaRDSOK CHRISTMAS GREETING By permission of "School and Home Education," Bloomington, IlL WE hope your Christmas will be merry, And each fare well by Santa Claus. All care and trouble try to bury, Let Joy and Pleasure be your cause. Your presence gives us happy hearts, The world is bright before us. May life be full of cakes and tarts, And all good things come o'er us. CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS 165 CHEISTMAS EVE By permission of "The Outlook," New York OUTSIDE my window whirls tlie icy storm Aud beats upon its panes with fingers white \ Within, my open fire burns bright aud warm, And sends throughout the room its ruddy light. Low on the hearth my good grimalkin lies, His supple, glossy limbs outstretched along ; Now gently sleeps with softly closed eyes, Isow half awakened, purrs his evening song. Near to the fire, touched by its gentle heat, A silent, welcome friend, my armchair stands ; Its cushioned depths invite me to its seat, And promise rest for weary head and hands. Within its depths mine eyes unheeded close, Aud comes to me a vision wondrous sweet. Such sights aud sounds no wakeful hours disclose As then my resting, dreaming senses greet. I am where gentle shepherds on the plain Keep sleepless, faithful watch o'er resting sheep ; I hear them chant the psalmist's sweet refrain, That Israel's God will sure His promise keep. Then quick the air is full of lieav'nly song. And radiant light illumines all the ground, While angel voices sweet the strain prolong, Aud angel faces shine in glory round. 166 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS T see the shepherds' faces pale with fear, Theu glow with joy aud glad surprise, for then-~ "Glory to God ! " from augel lips they hear, And " Peace ou earth, good will to men." And theu the light marks out a shiuing way, Aud swift the shepherds are the path to take. I long to go : oh, laggard feet, Mhy stay"? Alas ! the visiou fades, aud I awake. Withiu, the smold'ring fire is burniug dim ; Without, the whirl aud beat of storm have ceased. J still can hear the augels' peaceful hymu, Aud kuow the visiou hath my peace iucreased. Feank E. Brown I CHRISTOBAL ' , By permission of Lothrop, Lee and Shepard Co., Bostoatij,' '^' ONG ago, iu fair Burgundy, lived a lad named ^ Christobal. His large dark eyes lay under the fringe of his lids, full of shadows ; eyes as lustrous as purple amethysts, and alas ! as sightless. He had not always been blind, as perhaps a wild and pas- sionate lad, named Jasper, might have told you. On a certain Christmas Eve, long before, a merry boy was little Christobal, as he pattered along to church, trying with his wooden shoes to keep time to the dancing bells. In his hand he carried a / CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS 167 Cbi'istnuis candle of various colors. Never, be thought,, was a raiubow as exquisitely tinted as that caudle. Carefully be watched it when it wiuked its sleepy eye, eagerly beggiug bis mamma to suuff it awake agaiu. How gayly the sti-eets twiukled with midnight lauterus ! Aud bow morti- fying to the stars to be outdone by such a grand illumination ! A new painting bad just been bung in the church, called by the people The Holy Child, with au aureole about his bead. Christobal looked at this picture with reverent delight ; and, to his surprise, the Holy Child returned his gaze : wherever be went the sweet, sorrowful eyes followed bim. Tliere was a wondrous charm in that pleading glance. Why was it so wistful 1 What bad those deep eyes to say ? The air was cloudy witb the breath of frankin- cense and myrrh. Deep voices and the heavy organ sounded chants and anthems. There were bynius and prayers to the coming Messiah, but at last, the service was ended. Then, in tumult and great baste, the people went home for merry-mak- ings, Christobal, eager to see what the Yule-log might have in store for bim, rushed out of the church witb careless speed, stumbling over a boy who stood in bis way, — the haughty, insolent Jas- per. Jasper's beautiful Christmas candle was cracked in twenty pieces by bis fall. "I'll teach you better manners, young peasant ! " cried he, rushing upon Christobal in a frenzy, and dealing fierce blows without mercy or reason. It i68 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS was then that Chvistobal's eyes went out like falling stars. Their lustre and beauty remained ; but they were empty caskets, their vision gone. Then fol- lowed terrible anguish ; and all Chrislobal's mother could do was to hold her boy in her arms, and soothe him by singing. At last the fever was spent ; but the paiu still throbbed on, and sometimes seemed to burn into Christobal's brain. He cried out again and again, "What right had that fierce Jasper to spring upon me so ? I meant him no harm ; and he kuew it. Oh, I would like to see him chained in a den ! He is like the wicked people who are turned into wolves at Christmas-tide. I would cry for joy if I could hear him groan with such paiu as mine ! " Poor Christobal never hoped to see again. He carried in his mind pictures of cities and hamlets, of trees, flowers, and old, familiar faces ; but ofteuest came Jasper's face, just as it had glared on him with bloodthirsty eyes. It was a terrible countenance. Ouly one charm could dispel the horror, — the remembrance of the beautiful Child in the church. That picture blotted out everything else. It was like the refrain in the Burguudian carols, "Noel, Noel," which comes again and again, and never tires. A year passed. Christobal's mother ouly praj^ed now that her boy might suffer less : she had ceased to pray for the healing of his blindness. Now it was Chi'istmas-tide again. Ever since Advent, people had been singing carols They roasted chestnuts, and chanted jiraises of the Mes- CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS 169 siali, who was soon to come, bringiug peace on earth, good- will to meu. The children began to talk again of the Yule-log, and to wonder what gifts J^oel would bring to i)lace under each end of it : for these little folks, who have no stocking-saint like our Santa Claus, believe in another quite as good, who rains down sugar-plums in the night. Everywhere there was a joyful bustle. House- wives were making ready their choicest dishes for the great Christmas supper ; fathers were slyly peeping into shop windows, and children hoarding their sous and centimes for bonbons and comfits. Everybody' was merry but Christobal ; or so tiiought the lad. He had no money to spend, and little but pain for his holiday cheer. A patch here and there in his worn clothes was the best present his thrifty mother was able to make ; always excepting the little variegated taper, which few were too i^oor to buy. Christmas Eve came. Family friends dropped in. The Yule-log was set on the fire with shouts and singing. " Oh, that I could see these kind faces ! " moaned Christobal. " No doubt Jasper's chestnuts are popping merrily ; and his shoes will be full of presents. And here am I ! My head aches, and my eyeballs burn !" He stole out of the room, and, throwing himself on a wicker bench, mused over his troubles in soli- tude. One might have supposed him sleeping; for how should one imagine that his beautiful eyes were of no manner of use, exce])t when they were closed 1 When Christobal said, " Lot me see," he dropped 170 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS his eyelids ; and wbat he saw then, no ai'tist can paint. On tbis night, a beautiful Child appeared before him, as like the picture of The Holy Child as if it had stepped out of its frame on the church- wall. " I saw you, Christobal, when you came before me with your colored candle, one year ago." '' I knew it, I knew it ! " cried Christobal, clap- ping his hands in awe. " I saw your eyes follow me ; and I never once turned but you were looking. They told me it was only a picture ; but I said for that verj^ reason your eyes were sorrowful, — you longed to be alive." The Child replied by a slight motion of the head ; and the aureole trembled like sunlight on the water. The longer Christobal gtized, the more courage he gathered. "Lovely vision," said he, "if vision you may be, — I have said to myself, I would gladly walk to Eome with peas in my shoes, if 1 could know what you wished to say to me that night." "Only this, little brothei' : Are you ready for Christmas?" "Alas, no ! I never am. I have only two sous in the world." "Poor Christobal! Yet without a centime, one may be ready for Christmas." " But I am so very unhappy ! " "You do indeed look sad, little brother: where is your pain?" "In my eyes," moaned the boy, pouring out the words with a sense of relief, for he was sure they dropped into a pitying heart. "Since I saw you / / CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS 171 last I have beeu wickedly iujured. Kow T have always a paiu iu my eyes: there are two liaiues behiud them, which buru day and nighto" " I grieve for you," said the Child, with exquisite tenderness ; "yet, dear boy, for all that, you might be ready for Christmas : but is there not also a i^aiu throbbing and burning in your heart?" ' ' Oh, if you mean that, I am tossed up and down by vexation : I am full of hatred against that ter- rible Jasper. It was all about a miserable Christ- mas candle he carried. I broke it by xiushiug him down. Tell me, was he right to fly at me like a wild beast? Ought he not to suffer even as I have suffered? Is it just, is it right, for the great man's sou to put out a peasant boy's eyes, and be happy again?" "Misguided Jasper!^' said the Child, solemnly j "let him auswer for his own sin : judge not, liltle brother," Christobal hid his face in his hands, and wept for shame, "Shall I give you teu golden words for a Christ- mas gift ? Will you hide them iu your heart and be happy?" "I will," answered Christobal. "They are these," said the Child. "Pray for them which despitefully use you and persecute you," Christobal repeated the words, a soft light steal iug over his face. "I will remember," he said, looking up to meet the pleading eyes of the Child : but, lo ! the whole face had melted into the aureole ; nothing was left but light. Yet Christobal was tilled 172 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS with a DOW joy ; aud, as lie opened his eyes, hia dieaiii, if dream it were — cliauged, becoming as sweet aud solemn as a prayer. It seemed to bim that the roof of the cottage glittered with stars, aud was uo louger a roof, but the bouudless sky ; aud, afar off, like remembeied uiusic, a voice fell ou his ear, "For if ye forgive meu their trespasses, your heaveuly Father will also forgive you your tres- passes." Christobal arose, aud, although still bliud, walked iu light. "It is the aureole which has stolen into my heart," thought ChristobaL "The paiu and hate are all gone. Now I am ready for Christmas. I wish I could help poor Jasjjer, who has such a weight of guilt to carry ! " Next day. Burgundy saw uo happier boy than Christobal. He walked iu the procession at night, carrying a caudle whose light he could not see ; but what did it signify, since there was light iu his soul '? Hark ! In the midst of the Christmas chimes breaks the jangling of fire- bells. The Count's house is ou fire ! The sparks pour out thicker aud faster ; tongues of tiame leap to the sky ; the bells clang hoarsely ; the Christmas procession is broken into wild disorder ; the wheels of the engine roll through the streets, unheard iu the din. Christobal rushed eagerly toward the fiames, but was pulled away by the i)eople. "We cannot drown the fire I" they cried; "the building must fall! Are the inmates all safer' *'A11, thank heaven!" cried the Count. '^No; CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS 173 Jasper ! See ! be waves bis baud from the tbird story ! Save bim ! save my boy !" Jasper bad set fire to a curtain witb bis fatal Cbristmas candle. Now be raved and sbouted in vain : no one would venture up tbe ladder. <'0 Holy Child," whispered Cbristobal, "give light to my eyes, even as unto my soul ! Let me save Jasper !" At once the iron baud fell from Cbristobars vision. He saw, and, at tbe same moment, felt a supernatural strength. He tore away from tbe re- straining arms of the people ; he rushed up the lad- der, and reached the window, heedless of his scorched arms. "Jasper!" he cried, seizing the half-con- scious boy, "be not afraid : I have tbe strength to carry you." And down the ladder he bore bim, step by step, through tbe crackling flames. Jasper was revived ; and the fainting Cbristobal was borne through the streets in the arms of the poj^ulace. " Wonder of wonders ! " was the cry. "It was The Holy Child," gasped Cbristobal. " He opened my eyes ; he guided me up the ladder, and down again ! " " Hallelujah ! " cried the people. " On tbe birth- day of our Lord, tbe blind receive their sight." "It is a triumph of faith," said some rever- ently. "A miracle," murmured others. "Not a miracle," replied the wise doctors, after they bad fii-st consulted their books ; " it is only the electrifying of the optic nerve." ''Dear little Cbristobal," sobbed the broken- 174 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS hearted Jasper, "how could you forgive such a wicked boy as 11" "It was very easy," replied Christobal, "when ODce The Holy Child called me 'brother,' aud bade me pray for you," " Oh, that I could repay you for your wonderful deed of love," said Jasper, through his tears. "Do uot thank me," whispered Christobal, with a look of awe ; "thank The Holy Child. And when he comes again next year, to ask what feelings we hold in our hearts, let us both be ready for Christ- mas." Sophie May AT CHEISTMAS-TIDi: ' By permission of "The Ladies' World," New York AT Christmas-tide, fair friends, forego Your ancient feuds, and far and wide Disseminate love's golden glow, At Christmas-tide. In fellowship and faith abide, Deny to all the name of foe, For sake of Christ, the Crucified. At Christmas-tide. Eejoice in Error's overthrow. Refute the doubters that deride, Aud loud the Gospel bugle blow, At Christmas-tide. Susie M. Best CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS 175 COMIN' CHEISTMAS MORN By permission of Messrs. Forbes <& Co., Chicago (Should be given in Santa Glaus costume) I'M goin' to start next Saturday ; It wou't take uiore'u a day To visit the United States In my new toboggan sleigh. I' ve sent Jack Frost ahead 0' me To sort o' find a road, So my deers '11 find it easy 'Cause I've got an awful load. But they've had lots o' exercise, Au' know the way by sight ; I've speeded them to Baffin's Bay An' back here 'fore 'twas night. An' once I drove to Puget's Sound An' once to Behring Sea ; I had ter make a trip up there To get a Christmas tree. I wish't you all could see my house, Built out o' cakes o' ice ; I guess you think it cold inside, But no, it's awful nice. All carpeted with sealskin rugs. An' ermine, mink and sable; I'm going to keep it furnished so As long a« J am able. 176 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS An' no gomphobers in the north Can steal 'round unawares, Because my castle's guarded by Two great big polar bears. So if a burglar man should come An' try to break into it They'd squeeze his life out in a jif, I've taught 'em how to do it. Just right around behind my house Is w^here I keep the toys, That I am comiu' southward with, Fer all good girls an' boys. My big cold storage warehouse stands Eight by a frozen tarn, An' right along aside o' ifc I have my reindeer's baru. So never mind, they're both piled full Of everything on earth With Christmas gifts till you can't rest, I don't know what they're worth. An' four big sea dogs set outside, Two walruses, a seal That knows so much if you'd come nigh He'd be the first to squeal. The purtiest sight you ever saw 'S when things is lit up nights — You know we don't have gas up here, But use the Northern Lights. CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS 177 A-u' forth from every icicle A dazzle spreads away That turns the hull big frozeu zone Into one mighty day. From where I live I'd have you know, It's truth, upon my soul, I don't have very far to go To see the big North Pole, Where Uncle Sam has pinned his flag, There's where the cold wind pipes. And flaunts the emblem of the brave, The i)roud old stars and strij)es. I'm coming, children, coming, yes. You ought to see my sleigh. And hear the tinkle, tinkle, as I speed along the way. Through forests bare, o'er snowy x)laius, As sure as you are born. Old Santa Claus is coming, and Will be here Christmas morn. Ben King A CHAPTER FROM HUSTLER'S CAMP. By permission of" Tlie Epworth Herald," Chicago HUSTLER'S CAMP w^as somewhat exercised over the newcomer, who, in truth, did not look aa if he belonged there. A number of men paused iu 178 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS tbeir work and looked after the figure in rusty black as it desceuded the rugged path ou the hillside,— a slender figure aud slightly stooped, with gray show- ing plainly in the fringe of hair beneath the well- worn hat. "He said he was a colored porter, but he was a lyin'," observed Dirk Collins. "He ain't no more of a nigger 'n I am " " Which ain't sayin' much for the difference," in- terposed a companion, with a glance at the naturally dark face now long unshaven and browned and roughened by years of exposure. Dirk waited until the laugh at his expense had subsided, then calmly proceeded : "An' he ain't no porter, neither, never was ; anybody can see that by lookin' at him. Nigh as I can make out he's some kind of a book-peddler." " One o' them tract slingers, likely, an' he's come to a poor market," said a brawny fellow named Sam. Little Jim leaned on his pick and looked wistfully after the retreating form. Jim was only a boy, who had drifted into the camp, nobody knew how oi from where, and they had all fallen into the way of calling him "Little Jim," though he undertook a man's work with a courage that won for him what no amount of asking could have done, aud he was allowed to stay. It was not the proper place for a boy, one would have said, but there was no proper place on earth for Jim, so far as his few years on earth had enabled him to discover ; and this one, rough as it might be. was not the worst he had known. CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS 179 « If occasiouaily ill-luck or much driuk rendered some cue tyrauuical or abusive, there was usually some- body else sufficieutly generous or sufficiently quar^ relsome to interfere in the boy's behalf. "An" they're a good deal like this yere mine — mighty rough and uupromisin' on top, but with good streaks in 'em, if ye can once git down to 'em. I wish that book man could do it." It did not seem a probable consummation. The newcomer was gently patient, but persistent and very much in earnest. If his attempts to enter into conversation were rudely repulsed one day, his tone the next had lost none of its kindness. If his invi- tation to a meeting was refused with a curse or a sneer, it did not prevent the proffer of a leaflet. He scattered them everywhere. "You can track that feller all over the diggin's by 'em," grumbled Dirk, holding up one. "It's all the job I want to scratch along in this world, an' I hain't no time to 'tend to no other. It's gittin' monotonous, an' I wish he'd git out o' this." "He won't till he's starved out, but that ought to be before long," declared Sam. "He's gittin' thinner'n more bent over every day. If he hain't sense enough to know when he's struck a place that won't pay, 'twould be a mercy to give him a hint." "A good histin' — one that would skip him out lively," interposed another voice. The irritable wish and rough jest were bandied about until they gradually changed to a purpose, a piaii born of a moment's caprice— the irresponsible mood of a crowd. i8o CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS • "The next time we git sight of him anywheres we'll lay down the law, an' give him twelve hours to skip out o' this." Little Jim listened uneasily. ''You don't have to wait to git sight of him ; I can tell you where to find him," he said, with a sudden resolution. "He lives in that little old cabin up round the turn, 'cross the gully." "Ho ! Come to stay, has he, an' got his nest all fixed? It's likely he'll change his mind. We'll go up there to-night. It's Christmas Eve, an' we got to have some sort of a celebration." When night fell a self-appointed committee of five men drew toward the light that streamed from the cabiu. Home missionary dwellings are not usually sumptuous in their furnishings, and the little log cabin on the hillside had no soft hangings to shut out the gathering darkness. The interior w"as clearly revealed to the committee. No lone man bending over tracts or Bible ; but a neat room, plain almost to bareness, but wondrously bright and homelike to those eyes which had seen nothing like a home for so long. There was a strip of rag carpet on the freshly-scrubbed floor, a i^riut framed in twisted branches on the wall, a home-made lounge, with a pale-faced woman reclining upon it, wbile a little girl, with a grave, housewifely air, was brush- ing up the hearth. Involuntarily the men drew nearer to the window and gazed. Before any one had time to utter a word the little girl, turning, caught sight of some one, and eagerly threw open the door. CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS i8i *' Is it you, papa? " she called. "Siss}-, is your pa in?" asked Dirk, lamely euougli, as they fouud themselves discovered. "Not yet, but we're looking for liim. Won't you come iu ?" answered the small hostess, a trifle dismayed, but rallying her hospitality. The five men filed solemnly into the cabiu. There was a limited supply of chairs, but with a rude bench and a little crowding, they were all seated. The invalid on the lounge attempted to speak to them, but the weak voice failed to make itself understood by any one but the watchful young nurse. "Yes, mamma. She wants to tell you," turuing to the visitors, "that papa' 11 be home soon; but she can't talk much yet, 'cause she's been so sick. I guess it was the way the roof leaked made her take cold ; but papa patched it, and I'm keeping house now so she will get rested and strong. I can do it ijretty well." "'Coui-se, sissy, you do it first-rate," declared Sam, as if he had made a study of housekeepiug. She M^as only a plain, brown-faced little maiden, enveloped in a coarse check-apron, but she and her surroundings seemed to have a wonderful fascination for these strange guests. When she attempted to replenish the fire. Dirk proffered his assistance. "My hands is bigger' n yours, sissy— see how much bigger ! " and he gazed at the small fingers as if the child's hand were a marvel. When for a few minutes she was silent, one of the i82 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS meu nudged Sam aud asked iu a whisper if }\e couldn't "set her agoiu' agin." It was easy enough. She was a sociable little body, and the few awkward questions drew ready replies — an artless story which unconsciously gave glimpses of many a hardship and privation. The pale-faced mother only smiled and listened. Pres- ently the child broke off a sentence abruptly and turned toward the door. " There's pajm !" When the master of the house beheld his callers, his face betrayed his surprise, though he greeted them pleasantly. As for the guests, suddenly recalled to a remembrance of their errand, they glanced furtively at each other and were silent for a moment. "Parson," broke forth Dirk desperately, "we've come — we've come to — that is to say if you'll hold a preachin' down to the camp Christmas night we'll all be there, an' a lot more of the fellers." He con- cluded with a savage glance at his comi)anions, which challenged them to dispute at their peril ; but no one offered the slightest oi)position. They drew a long breath of relief, indeed, as the aston- ished preacher appointed the hour for a meeting, and quietly took their departure. Half way down the winding i^ath a figure dodging behind the tree was anxiously watching their apjiroach. Sam espied and pounced ui^on it, dragging little Jim into the moonlight. "You young rascal, did you know there was a woiaau — a sick woman and a little gal up there?" CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS i8i Jim, under tlie sliakiug, uiuttered souietliiug that miglit have beeu au affirmative. " Then why didn't ye say so ? " "'Cause I wanted ye to go an' see," ventured Jim, feeling that the hand on his collar was, after all, not a very angry one. There was an unusually quiet session around the camp-fire that evening, and the pipes were smoked meditatively. "When I was a youngster, 'way back east," said one of the party, " they uster have donation part if s> or somethin', for the parson, an' carried him slathers of things." "That's the talk," said Dirk, with sudden lightening of his dark face. " Go up to Hard Licks to-morrow, make 'em open up, and scoop the store." The proposition was carried by acclamation. Hard Licks was not a large town, but it had a high opinion of its own importance, and its shop-windows were gorgeous. These latter furnished the chief suggestions concerning what would be useful in a poor missionary's family, and the buyers were lav- ish. More critical people might have objected to a crimson silk dressing-gown for the invalid, and gay sashes for the sober little maiden did not harmonize with their surroundings ; but the committee fiom Hustler's Camp was not critical, and indnlged its eye for color regardless of expense. Useful articles went with the finery, however, and the little cabin on the hillside was fairly inundated with comforts and luxuries. i84 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS ''Blest if our parsou shan't live like other folks' parsons," said Sam, voicing the sentiment of the cami). And the patient, persevering minister looked up with eyes grown dim and whispered : "Dear Lord, I want to win these souls fo)' Thee, and Thou hast opened wide the door." AT CHEISTMAS-TIME By permissiou of "The Ladies' World," New York AT Christmas-time on Judea's hills The moonlight falls with silver glow, And shepherds watch their flocks by night, Just as in ages long ago. At Christmas- time our hearts still turn With loving thoughts to that far day, When angel hosts proclaimed the birth Of Him who in the manger lay. Though centuries have passed away Since earth its Christmas-time first knew, The centuries that are to come Will celebrate His birth anew. The light of Bethlehem's wondrous star Has shone through all the ages long, And 'round the world on wings of love Has rolled the angels' glorious song. W, G. Park CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS 185 EOGER KENT'S HOME COMING By permission of " The Home Defeuiier," Chicago HIS head ached and his heart ached. He was very young, he thought, rebelliously, to be so unhappy — hardly more than seventeen ; aud he had tried so hard, duriug these hist six months he liad spent in the city, to dehtde himself with the idea that he was as happy aud contented as a boy couhl be. He had been earuing a fair salary, and was his own master. What more could a boy wish ? Aud yet — he was very, very miserable just now. He had gone to the store that morning two hours late, with this same headache throbbing at his temides. One of his employers had called him into his office, aud had talked severely, though not uu- kindly, to him. "I'm sorry, Mr. Kent," he said in conclusion; "but we can have no drinking men in our store. You have good parents and a good home in the country, if I've heard aright. Take my advice and go back to them. I came from the country myself when a lad, and I know the temptations that beset a young man unused to city life. Unfortunately, I couldn't have gone back if I had wanted to. The cashier will pay you the amount due you. Invest the money in car fare, lik(; a sensible fellow." Roger rushed blindly from the store, not seeing the look of sympathy that Hal Fleming gave him. He never wanted to see Hal Fleming or his clique again. It was they who had brought this ti-ouble aud disgrace upon him. They had urged him again I86 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS aud again to take "just one little sip" of the strong concoction they had brewed in Hal's room, and at last he had yielded — through shame. They had applauded, tind he had sipped a little more, and that was all he remembered about it the next morn- ing when he awoke, faint aud dizzy and miserable. Yes, he had actually been ashamed to do what was right. He felt as if the mark of his shame were on his forehead. He slipped from the glare of the electric lights of Sixth Avenue into the gloom and quiet of a narrow side street. The choir of one of the little churches was re- hearsing the songs for Christmas. Eoger leaned wearily against the sleet- covered iron railing of the fence, aud heard, as in a di-eam, the deep tones of the organ and the sweet, boyish voices as they sang. He could not hear the words, but somehow the music quieted him. The anger aud bitterness seemed all gone from his heart. He could see the little Connecticut farmhouse that he had left, with a passionate, rebellious heart, simply because his father had denied him a few privileges he had thought were his by right. He knew now — as he had half known, but never con- fessed, all along — that his Mher was in the right. Should he take his employer's advice aud go back ? He knew what his welcome would be — that his- mother would laugh and cry with joy, and that his father would be glad, too, though he might say little. He would be there in time for the Christmas holiday. An unpleasant lump rose iu his throat a? CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS 187 he tliouglit of the loving remembrauees that he had al way s r ece J \ed. There was a letter iu his inside coat pocket. It was short and badly written, but it' was from mother ! Eoger thrilled as he whispered the word, and it was very precious to him just now. He passed his hand over his breast to feel if it were still there. Ills father had been ailing a good deal lately, she wrote. He missed Eoger' s help, and he seemed to take very little interest iu the jjUms for next year's work. Then she had spokeu of Christ- mas. There was a tear staiu ou the signature, " Elizabeth Eoger Kent." But hark ! Some one was singing a solo in the chitrch, and as the yearning pathos of the sweet voice fell upon Eoger' s ear, a great sob shook his frame and a mist of tears blinded his eyes. When the beautiful hymn had ceased, he made a vow in the solemn hush that followed — that he would not rest until he had clasped his mother in his arms, and had gotten the blessing of his father's forgive- ness. He felt iu his pocket to determine just how much money he had. There was a five dollar bill and some change iu silver. "More thau enough to take me home," he said, "and I shall be able to begin with a dollar iu my pocket. But my heart will be as light as my pocket, and it's beeu as heavy as lead all the time I've spent in the great, crowded place I'm leaving b I 'hind me." Eoger' s heart beat almost to suffocation as he drew near the brown house at the end of Low Laue i88 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS at dawu. The roseate gleams in the east were lik« an omen to his softened miud. There was a light in the front window, shining straight toward the two gaunt, bare poplars by the gate. "Mother's up and stirring," whispered Roger, tapping lightly on the door, with a trembling hand, Mrs. Kent opened the door with joy beaming in her eyes. Roger held her in his arms many minutes before either sj)oke. "I've been expecting you, Roger," she said simply. " I got up early to see if the lamp was all right in the window. It's been jjut there every night since you went away." His father was not demonstrative by nature, but there were tears in his eyes, and his voice trembled as he gripped Roger's hand and said: " Meriy Christmas, my son, and God bless you ! " Anthony E. Anderson AN UNFORTUNATE By permission of " The Constitution," Atlanta, Om. IDES SO weak en sinful, Or else, so old en po' Dat Mister Chris'mus done fergit De number on my do'. I tell him : " Heah I is, suh ! You been dis way befo'." But Mister Chris' mus done fergit De number on my do'. / CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS 189 I see liim fiu' de rich folks Dat des dou't want do mo' ; But — good Law'd knows Le done fergit De number on my do'. I wonders en I wonders Des why he slight me so? I hopes de Lawd '11 show him De number on my do'. Fkank L. Stanton A LEGEND OF THE CHEIST-CHILD By permission of " The Ladies' World," New York r r was dark and cold in the cottage, For the fire was burning low to And the one rushlight was hoarded. The hand of the midnight snow Beat, beat at the narrow casement Like the clods on coffin thrown, And a mother, widowed, and young, and fair, Sat holding her child, alone. Wlien, hark ! a knock at the doorway — Unbidden a guest came in ; A trav'ler, aged, and bent, and frail, And cloak wrapped to his chin. I90 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS '^Good Hansfrau, lost on the mountaiu A wanderiug oue am I ; Oil, give me a place and a fire and a sup Or else in the storm I die." She paused — one hoarded rushlight, A meagre handful of food, And to keep her child from the bitter cold A bundle of kindling wood ! Could she give of her store? Oh, hush ! oh, hark t From the steeples far below The wind was bringing the Christmas chimes Through beat of the falling snow. And she said : ''For the sake of the Christ-child I give you all my store ; For the Christ-child goes on Christmas Eve With blessings from door to door. " Perchance there are some who need Him more With whom He is called to stay ; He has missed my door this Christmas Eve — 'Tis far up this mountain way — "And He astray in the snowfall May be seeking a place to rest ; For He is only a Kindchen, Like the weanling at my breast." She rose and went to the cupboard And 'twas stored with wholesome food I CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS [91 Amazed, she sought for a fagot — And the basket was heaped with wood ! She turned to the ragged stranger, And lo ! in his humble stead Slood one in a shining wliiteness, With a halo 'round his head — The snow beat at the casement Could not drown the steeple din — When she opened her heart to the beggar The Christ-child had entered in ! Mary Clarke Huntington A CHRISTMAS COFFEE POT By permission of the Author HE was only ten years old, and he ouglit to have been in school, of course ; but his father Avas dead, and his mother almost an invalid, to whose slender and uncertain income from her needle Benny's two dollars a week at Haines's General Store was no mean addition. Some weeks, indeed, his earnings were greater than hers. Those were proud moments for Benny, and, oh, how they made him yearn to be earning ten dollars a week in the store, like Hank Sellers ! Hajik was Benny's ideal of a great man, for he could blow smoke through his nose without coughing ; he could lift a barrel of salt; throw anybody in town in a wrestling match, 192 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS aud break the wildest colts that were ever brought to him. Beuny learned in Sunday-school aud from his mother that some of these things were not nice ; yet, if they weren't, why did a great mau like Hank Sellers do them ? Every Saturday night Beuny hurried straight home with his two silver dollars ; in the beginning he also conscientiously carried home the occasional nickel or dime which he picked up in return for some little favor done a customer. But one day his mother told him, with a queer little catch in her voice, that hereafter he could have these extras for himself. He kept them after this, but whatever he bought with them— candy or licorice-root or an orange — he always shared with little Elizabeth and his mother. Since September, however --and it was now next to the last week in December — he had not spent a penny. Why, was a secret into which he had let no one but little Elizabeth. He was going to make the first Christmas gift of his life, and it was to be to his mother ! But what ? This was the question he had pondered for days. He had considered at least a dozen articles, always carefully bearing the cost in mind, but no sooner would he decide on any one of them than all the others would at once take on new charms, and thus undo his decision. "What he wanted was something that his mother really needed and would use every day, but which at the same time would be beautiful and enduring, and would not cost over seventy-five cents. It proved a difficult combiuatiou, and he was begiu" CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS 193 niug to despair, wheu oue morning at breakfast, just four days before Christmas, his mother said : " Benny, dear, I guess you'll have to take the coffee- pot down to Mr. Conrad's again. It has sprung another leak.'' In that moment the inspiration came. lie would get her a new coffee-pot ! Kot a plain tin atfair like her old one, which was battered and soldered in many a place, with its spout twisted and the button gone from the lid ; but a gorgeous one of white-and-blue granite-iron, such as he had seen in Conrad's window. That very afternoon, after school, Elizabeth, fol- lowing instructions, stopped at the store for her brother, for the selection of the coffee-pot was a re- sponsibility not to be assumed by any one person. Benny got excused for a little while, and the dimin- utive pair hastened toward Conrad's hardware store. They paused in front of the window, and Benny eagerly pointed out the pot which he had chosen, contingently, earlier in the day. "Ain't it a beauty, Lizzie! " he asked. "It's awful pretty," she murmured. " How much does it cost ? " " I ain't asked yet, but Hank says that no granite* iron coffee-pot ever made ought to cost over seventy- five cents ; and he knows, 'cause he used to work in a hardware store. We'll go in and ask, if you think it'll do." "It's beautiful, brother." "Do you think it's too big?" lie interrogated anxiously. " Oh, no. T think it's just right." 194 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS ''Then I'll ask. Wait till I couut my mouey again." He drew from his trousers-pocket half a handful of penui(^s, nickels, and dimes, and after some study found that they totaled seventy-five cents— just the amount he should have had. Then he paused for one final glance at the gorgeous pot. It was in that fateful moment that his eyes fell on a pot which had somehow escaped him hitherto — a beautiful vessel which shone like silver, with a fancy curved spout and figured handle; a very king of coffee-pots, in fact throned high above all the rest. He gasped, and in that instant the glory of the granite-iron pot faded forever, and it became a common, plebeian thing. " Look at that silver one ! " said he, in a hopeless tone. '' Oh, my ! " exclaimed Elizabeth. " I wish we could buy mother that one ; but I expect it costs ten dollars, don't you 1 " Benny shook his head, too dejected to show his boyish scorn of her ignorance. "It don't cost that ; no coffee-pot costs that— except a king's, mebbe. But it costs too much for us." He fastened his longing blue eyes on the glittering object again. It seemed to shine with even more effulgence than before, and he pictured to himself, with an aching heart, the glow that would come to his mother's face if he could only make her such a magnificent present as that. " Lizzie," said he, al- most tragically, while his lip quivered, "I ain't goiu' to get mother a coffee-pot, after all. I'm goin' to get her something else." CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS 195 " What you goiu' to get her! " asked Elizabeth, greatly disappointed at this outcome of their mo- mentous shopping expedition. ^'I ain't decided yet. I'll think it over. You stop at the store to-morrow afternoon again. But 1 wisht I hadn't seen that silver coffee-pot," he added, sadly. On the way to work nest day he could not resist the temptation to stop and look at the silver coffee- pot again. Some fairy must have polished it over night, for it reflected the morning sun in a manner that was fairly dazzling. Each time that day that he passed Conrad's window with the delivery wagon — and he went out of his way several times to do it — he turned a pair of hungry eyes toward the object of his desires. Once, during the afternoon, he saw Mr. Courad showing it to a lady, and his heart sank. He also felt some resentment, just as if the pot were his, and not Mr, Conrad's. But when he came back, there was the king on his throne again, looking, if possible, more royal than ever. " Lizzie," said he, desperately, when the pair once more stood in front of the window, " I ain't thought of anything else yet, and I'm goin' to ask Mr. Con- rad how much it's worth." Elizabeth's eyes opened wide at this venturesome declaration. '' Mebbe he won't like it, Benny. He knows we're too poor to buy it." '^ r don't care," answered Benny. "I heard ILmk Sellers ask a man the price of athnishin'- machine once, and he didn't have the money to buy 196 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS it. Aud mebbe that pot don't cost but seveuty-five cents." They climbed tlie steps of the old frame building. It was with a feeling of relief that he noted the ab- sence of any other customers in the store. "Mr. Conrad," he began, with a tremor in his voice which he could not quite control, " I want to look at your coffee-pots. I want to get mother one for Christmas. How much is that — that silver one in the window, with the crooked spout?" Elizabeth tightened her grip on Benuy's hand as Mr. Conrad stepped to the window aud lifted the beauteous thing down. "Do you mean this one I That's a dollar and a quarter, Benny." There was silence for a moment, intense silence. "I suppose it's solid silver," said Benny, trying to muster a matter-of-fact tone, but struggling with a lump in his throat. " No ; it's nickle-plated ; but for all practical pur- poses it is as good as silver. Do you think you would like it?" Benuy shook his head. " I ain't got the money," he answered, almost in audibly. " We have some cheaper pots," said the merchant, kindly. "Some as low as a quarter." But Benny again shook his head. "I wanted to get her some- thing nice. I — I wouldn't take no pleasure in a cheap pot after seein' that one. Come on, Lizzie." "How much money have you, Benny?" called the merchant, as the children reached the door. " Seventy-five cents." Conrad hesitated, and glanced at the bottom of CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS 197 the pot. It was maiked o — ni, which meant that it Lad cost, just as it hai^peued, seveuty-five ceuts, Theu he ghiuced at the diminutive pair. They wero about the age of his own two chihiien. " Benny," said he, with a smile, " this is the season of peace on earth and good-will to men ; and I am going to let you have this pot for seveuty-five ceuts." Benny's eyes lighted woudrously for an instant: theu the radiance faded, and he Siiid, in a hard little voice, without turuiug back, "I don't want you to give it to me, Mr. Conrad." "I am not giving it to you ; seveuty-five cents is just what it cost me, and I often sell goods to favored customers at cost. You and your mother have al- ways been good customers of mine, and I should be glad to have you take this pot at seventy-five cents." "All right, sir, if you put it that way," answered the proud little boy ; and once more he counted out Lis change, fearful lest a i^enny or two might have got away, and thus at the last moment vitiate the sale. But it was all there. When the pot was wrapped Beunj' lifted it down with a sense of tre- mendous responsibility. "Suppose you'd fall down and smash it, Benny," suggested Elizabeth, awesomely, as they trudged over the icy sidewalks. " I ain't goin' to fall," said he, confidently. " I've carried things as valuable as this before — glass, too. But never nothin' for mother." "Suppose a horse runned over you," continued Elizabeth. " 1 aiu't liable to be runned over by a hoi-se v Leu 198 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS 1 driA^e oue myself every day. Hank says old Ked'a got the hardest mouth of auy horse iu towK." Benny expected to smuggle the coffee-pot into the house on Christmas Eve, He had not yet decided whether he would softly arise some time iu the night and tie his gift to his mother's stocking — he would hint beforehand that it would be well for her to hang it up along with his and Elizabeth's this year, —or whether he would set it iu the cupboard, iu place of the old pot, and let her find it when she went to make coffee in the morning. Each plan had some feature to recommend it. But meanwhile he deemed it wisest to keep the precious gift at the store, although just where to stow it was a serious question. Under a counter it might get dented ; on a shelf it might fall off, especially if there should happen to be an earthquake. Moreover, if such a valuable thing were left in an exposed place, bur- glars might find it out and break in and carry it off. Finally Hank Sellers, whom Benny took into his confidence, hid the pot iu a drawer under some rolls of cotton batting. Benny's work day ended at six o'clock. About half-past three o'clock on Christmas Eve the tele- phone iu the store rang vigorously. Mrs. Eosecrans wanted to know why the two pounds of raisins she had ordered for her Christmas pudding had not been delivered. Hank Sellers hung up the receiver with a growl. Mrs. Eosecrans lived outside the village limits, about a mile and a half from the store. Benny had been out there twice that day iu the de- livery wagon with baskets full of Christmas cheer ; CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS 199 but Hank bad overlooked the raisins in putting- np her order. Mrs. Eosecrans was Haines's best eus- tomer, and could uot be disapjjoiuted, although the horse had been put away for the day. "Benny," said Hank, in a tone uot intended for his employer's ear, "do you suppose you could hitch up old Ned by yourself and take two ])onnds of rai- sins out to old lady Eosecrans? I can't leave the vStore uow, and she'll have a fit if those raisins aren't delivered." Benny had uever hitched up the horse, but he was not the boy to admit, especially to his idol, that he was unable to do a thing before he had tried it. So a few minutes later he trudged over to Haines's barn with the bag of raisins under one arm. Hank had told him that he needn't come back agaiu that day, so under the other arm he carried tlie precious coffee-pot. Arriving at the barn, he seized old Xed's forelock with a reassuring "Ho, boy!" as Hank always did, aud unbuckled the halter. But old Ned, having done his day's stint of work, was not to be harnassed agaiu, especially by this pigmy. So he snorted, threw up his head, aud derisively can- tered out into the barnyard. For fifteen minutes Beuny coaxed and chased, stumbling over the frozen ground, aud bruising his bare hands till they bled, but the wary old Ned would neither reenter his stall nor allow liimself to be caught. So Beuny resolved to walk out to jNIrs. Eosecrans'. It was lialf-past four o'clock when lie reached the big house, and the suii was nearly down to the tree tops iu the west. A few llakey of snow were drift- 200 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS ing as he started back, and before he reached thd public road they were falling thick and fast. He decided to take a short cut across a large tract of meadow. The old snow in the meadow proved deeper than he had thought, and his wet feet soon got very cold, but he cheered his flagging spirits by liugging the coffee-pot tighter, and picturing his dear mother's smile when she should receive her present iu the morning. Presently he found himself iu a grove. He was greatly surprised at this, for he knew that no trees grew in the meadow. He had been floundering along with his head down, and now, looking up to get his bearings, he discovered that no landmarks were visible. Snow, snow, nothing but snow. By this time the pulpy brown paper haJ been rubbed from the coffee-pot. Benny's brave little heart failed him, and he began to cry in short, hard, bitter sobs ; he had an irresistible desire to sink down in the snow and rest, but the thought of home and mother and the Christmas entertainment at the church kept him going. Elizabeth, made up like a fairy, was to sing a song at the church, and he did not want to miss that. And the next day was Christmas ! The lethargy which cold and excessive fatigue produce was fast overcoming him when he was rudely jarred by bumping into something. Al- rhough utterly indifferent to his surroundings now, he knew from the feel and smell of the object that it was a strawstack, and he sank down in the litter of sti'aw with a strange but delightful sense of CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS 201 languor ; closiug Lis eyes with a smile, lie begau to repeat : ' 'Twas the uit;lit before Christmas, and all through the house Not a creature was stirriug, uot eveu a mouse." Theu, muttering iu a fitful way a part of the little prayer he made each uight at his mother's kuec, he fel! asleep. There, three hours later, the searchiug party Mith their gleaming lanterns, found him, with the coffee- pot clasped iu his arms, — iu a stuj)or which is the precursor of death. When he regained consciousness, his mother was sitting beside the bed. "Have I come home, mother?" he asked, in a mystified tone. "Yes, darling. The men — the good, kind men — found you and brought you home." Theu the memory of the present flashed over him. " And is it Christmas j^et, mother? " "Yes, it isnow two o'clock, and really Christmas." " Did you hang up your stocking? " "Yes, don't you remember that you told meat diinier yesterday to be sure not to forget it?" He burst into tears. "You won't get nothing now, mother," he sobbed. "I lost it in the snow ! " "Oh, no, you didn't, darling! You had it in your arms when they found you, and you held it so tightly tliat they let it stay in your arms till they got you home— that beautiful, beautiful coffee-pot, finer than mother ever had before or ever hoped to Uave. Mother shall always be so proud of it. But 202 CHRISTMAS SELECTIONS how much prouder she shall always be of her uoblo boy, who, iu all his i)aiu and despair, out there in the darkness aud storm, would uot abaudou his pres- ent for her ! " "Mother," he said, Avith radiant face, "I knew you'd talk like an angel when I gave it to you. That's one reason why I did it, — just to hear you. But I wanted you to have it, too," he added quickly, lust before her lips smothered his speech. Elmoke Elliott Peake 2325 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA AT LOS ANGELES THE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY This book is DUE on the last date stamped "below 6 1^ DEC 2 7 194S ^^ 4 1346 4m 1 1947 BE m 1 5 ]m ^ 4m 2 •'orm L-It :0rH-12.'30(33S6) m\i Jan 7 1952 JAN 5 195 4 19S8 •4 '58 ro, e 14 ISM p.p. 4305 C5M3 1911 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA-LOS ANGELES L 007 772 024 1 UC SOUTHERN RFGIONAL L IBRARY FAPIi ity AA 000 409 696 2 UNIVERSITY of CALIPQRjNlii AT "I /^Cl * XT/ITOT Tnr«