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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:51:33 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:51:33 -0700 |
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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/17630-h.zip b/17630-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e8f104c --- /dev/null +++ b/17630-h.zip diff --git a/17630-h/17630-h.htm b/17630-h/17630-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0597ddf --- /dev/null +++ b/17630-h/17630-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,3179 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Christmas Tales and Christmas Verse, by Eugene Field. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + a[name] { position:absolute; } + a:link {color:#0000ff; + text-decoration:none} + link {color:#0000ff; + text-decoration:none} + a:visited {color:#0000ff; + text-decoration:none} + a:hover {color:#ff0000} + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table { width:60%; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} +.tb1 { width: 100%; } +.tr {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; margin-top: 5%; margin-bottom: 5%; padding: 2em; background-color: #f6f2f2; color: black; border: dotted black 1px;} + .tocch { text-align: right; vertical-align: top;} + .tocpg {text-align: right; vertical-align: bottom;} + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + .img1 {border-color:#FF8080; border-style:solid; border-width:thin; } + .img2 { border-color:#B9B9B9; border-style:solid; border-width:thin; } + .img3 {text-align:left; } + .img4 {text-align:right; } + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .caption { text-align: center; font-weight: bold;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i1 {display: block; margin-left: 1em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i3 {display: block; margin-left: 3em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i6 {display: block; margin-left: 6em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i7 {display: block; margin-left: 7em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i11 {display: block; margin-left: 11em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i12 {display: block; margin-left: 12em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i16 {display: block; margin-left: 16em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's Christmas Tales and Christmas Verse, by Eugene Field + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Christmas Tales and Christmas Verse + +Author: Eugene Field + +Illustrator: Florence Storer + +Release Date: January 29, 2006 [EBook #17630] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHRISTMAS TALES AND *** + + + + +Produced by Jason Isbell, Sankar Viswanathan, and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + + +<div class="center"><a name="img_01" id="img_01"></a><img src="images/image_01.jpg" alt="Frontispiece" width="600" height="819" class="img1" /></div> + +<p> </p> +<div class="center"><img src="images/image_02.jpg" alt="Cover Page" width="400" height="610" class="img2" /></div> +<h1>CHRISTMAS<br /> +TALES AND<br /> +CHRISTMAS<br /> +VERSE</h1> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<h3>BY</h3> + +<h2>EUGENE FIELD</h2> + +<h4>ILLUSTRATIONS BY FLORENCE STORER</h4> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>NEW YORK</h4> +<h3>CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS</h3> +<h4>MCMXII</h4> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<p class="center">Copyright, 1912, by<br /> +<span class="smcap">Charles Scribner's Sons</span></p> + +<p class="center">Published October, 1912 + +</p> +<p> </p> +<p class="center"><img src="images/image_03.jpg" alt="Seal" width="100" height="113" /></p> + + +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Dedication" id="Dedication"></a></h2> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[v]</a></span></p> +<p class="center"><img src="images/image_04.jpg" alt="Decorative Image" width="200" height="164" /></p> + + + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Why do the bells of Christmas ring?</i> +</span> +<span class="i0"><i>Why do little children sing?</i> +</span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Once a lovely shining star,</i> +</span> +<span class="i0"><i>Seen by shepherds from afar,</i> +</span> +<span class="i0"><i>Gently moved until its light</i> +</span> +<span class="i0"><i>Made a manger's cradle bright.</i> +</span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>There a darling baby lay,</i> +</span> +<span class="i0"><i>Pillowed soft upon the hay;</i> +</span> +<span class="i0"><i>And its mother sung and smiled:</i> +</span> +<span class="i0"><i>"This is Christ, the holy Child!"</i> +</span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Therefore bells for Christmas ring,</i> +</span> +<span class="i0"><i>Therefore little children sing.</i> +</span> +</div></div> +<p class="center"><img src="images/image_04.jpg" alt="Decorative Image" width="200" height="164" /></p> + + + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<table > + <tr> + <td><img src="images/image_05.jpg" alt="Decorative Image" width="350" height="180" class="img3" /></td> + <td><img src="images/image_05.jpg" alt="Decorative Image" width="350" height="180" class="img4" /></td> + </tr> +</table> + + +<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h2> + + + + + + + + + +<table summary="Contents"> +<tr><td> </td><td class="tocpg">Page</td> +</tr> +<tr><td><span style="margin-left:3em; "><i><a href="#Dedication">Dedication</a></i></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_v">v</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td><span style="margin-left:3em; "><a href="#CHRISTMAS_HYMN"><i>Christmas Hymn</i></a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_3">3</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td><a href="#THE_SYMBOL_AND_THE_SAINT">The Symbol and the Saint</a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_5">5</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td><span style="margin-left:3em; "><a href="#CHRISTMAS_EVE"><i>Christmas Eve</i></a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_21">21</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td><a href="#JOELS_TALK_WITH_SANTA_CLAUS">Joel's Talk with Santa Claus</a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_23">23</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td><span style="margin-left:3em; "><a href="#THE_THREE_KINGS_OF_COLOGNE"><i>The Three Kings of Cologne</i></a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_39">39</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td><a href="#THE_COMING_OF_THE_PRINCE">The Coming of the Prince</a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_41">41</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td><span style="margin-left:3em; "><a href="#CHRYSTMASSE_OF_OLDE"><i>Chrystmasse of Olde</i></a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_60">60</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td><a href="#THE_MOUSE_AND_THE_MOONBEAM">The Mouse and the Moonbeam</a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_62">62</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td><span style="margin-left:3em; "><a href="#CHRISTMAS_MORNING"><i>Christmas Morning</i></a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_83">83</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td><a href="#MISTRESS_MERCILESS">Mistress Merciless</a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_86">86</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td><span style="margin-left:3em; "><a href="#BETHLEHEM-TOWN"><i>Bethlehem-Town</i></a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_105">105</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td><a href="#THE_FIRST_CHRISTMAS_TREE">The First Christmas Tree</a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_107">107</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td><span style="margin-left:3em; "><a href="#STAR_OF_THE_EAST"><i>Star of the East</i></a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_118">118</a></td> +</tr> +</table> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="FULL-PAGE_ILLUSTRATIONS" id="FULL-PAGE_ILLUSTRATIONS"></a>FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + +<p class="center"><b>IN COLORS</b></p> + + + + + +<table class="tb1" summary="Color Illustrations"> +<tr><td><a href="#img_01">The angels came through the forest to where the little tree +stood, and gathering around it, they touched it with +their hands</a></td> +<td><i>Frontispiece</i></td></tr> +<tr><td></td><td><i>Facing Page</i></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#img_03">For he was so generous that he gave away all these pretty +things as fast as he made them</a></td> +<td class="tocpg">12</td> +</tr> +<tr><td><a href="#img_06">So Barbara fell asleep</a></td> +<td class="tocpg">54</td> +</tr> +<tr><td><a href="#img_07">"But why shouldn't I be merry?" asked the little mauve +mouse. "To-morrow is Christmas, and this is Christmas +eve"</a></td> +<td class="tocpg">64</td> +</tr> +<tr><td><a href="#img_08">"'What sound was that?' cried Dimas, for he was exceeding +fearful"</a></td> +<td class="tocpg">78</td> +</tr> +<tr><td><a href="#img_10">The strange allegory of the lame boy's speech filled her with +awe</a></td> +<td class="tocpg">90</td> +</tr> +<tr><td><a href="#img_12">But, with her babe upon her knee, +Naught recked that Mother of the tree</a></td> +<td class="tocpg">106</td> +</tr> +<tr><td><a href="#img_14">To seek that manger out and lay +Our gifts before the child— To bring our hearts and offer them +Unto our King in Bethlehem!</a></td> +<td class="tocpg">118 </td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p> </p> +<p class="center"><b>IN BLACK-AND-WHITE</b></p> + + + + +<table class="tb1" summary="Black and White Illustrations"> +<tr><td></td><td class="tocpg"><i>Page</i></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#img_02">Sing, O my heart! +Sing thou in rapture this dear morn +Whereon the blessed Prince is born!</a></td> +<td class="tocpg">2</td> +</tr> +<tr><td><a href="#img_04">Oh, hush thee, little Dear-my-Soul, +And close thine eyes in dreaming</a></td> +<td class="tocpg">20</td> +</tr> +<tr><td><a href="#img_05">"This must be the house where the prince will stop," thought Barbara</a></td> +<td class="tocpg">46</td> +</tr> +<tr><td><a href="#img_09">Share thou this holy time with me, +The universal hymn of love</a></td> +<td class="tocpg">84</td> +</tr> +<tr><td><a href="#img_11">"Nestle down close, fold your hands, and shut your dear +eyes!"</a></td> +<td class="tocpg">101</td> +</tr> +<tr><td><a href="#img_13">"They are killing me!" cried the tree</a></td> +<td class="tocpg">115</td> +</tr> +</table> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p class="center"><img src="images/image_06.jpg" alt="Cover Page" width="400" height="493" class="img2" /></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center"><a name="img_02" id="img_02"></a><img src="images/image_08.jpg" alt="Sing, O my heart! Sing thou in rapture this dear morn Whereon the blessed Prince is born!" width="450" height="650" class="img2" /></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i16"><b>Sing, O my heart!<br /> +</b></span> +<b><span class="i11">Sing thou in rapture this dear morn<br /> +</span> +<span class="i11">Whereon the blessed Prince is born!</span></b><br /> + +</div></div> + + + + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHRISTMAS_HYMN" id="CHRISTMAS_HYMN"></a></h2> +<p class="center"><img src="images/image_09.jpg" alt="Decorative Image" width="600" height="313" /></p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Sing, Christmas bells!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Say to the earth this is the morn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whereon our Savior-King is born;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sing to all men,—the bond, the free,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The rich, the poor, the high, the low,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The little child that sports in glee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The aged folk that tottering go,—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Proclaim the morn<br /></span> +<span class="i4">That Christ is born,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That saveth them and saveth me!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Sing, angel host!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sing of the star that God has placed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Above the manger in the East;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sing of the glories of the night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The virgin's sweet humility,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The Babe with kingly robes bedight,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sing to all men where'er they be<br /></span> +<span class="i4">This Christmas morn;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">For Christ is born,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That saveth them and saveth me!<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Sing, sons of earth!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O ransomed seed of Adam, sing!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God liveth, and we have a king!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The curse is gone, the bond are free—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By Bethlehem's star that brightly beamed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">By all the heavenly signs that be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We know that Israel is redeemed;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">That on this morn<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The Christ is born<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That saveth you and saveth me!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Sing, O my heart!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sing thou in rapture this dear morn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whereon the blessed Prince is born!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And as thy songs shall be of love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So let my deeds be charity<br /></span> +<span class="i2">By the dear Lord that reigns above,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By Him that died upon the tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">By this fair morn<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Whereon is born<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Christ that saveth all and me!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center"><img src="images/image_05.jpg" alt="Decorative Image" width="350" height="180" /></p> + + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span></p> +<p class="center"><img src="images/image_10.jpg" alt="Decorative Image" width="600" height="313" /></p> +<h2><a name="THE_SYMBOL_AND_THE_SAINT" id="THE_SYMBOL_AND_THE_SAINT"></a>THE SYMBOL AND THE SAINT</h2> + +<p>Once upon a time a young man made ready for a voyage. His name was +Norss; broad were his shoulders, his cheeks were ruddy, his hair was +fair and long, his body betokened strength, and good-nature shone from +his blue eyes and lurked about the corners of his mouth.</p> + +<p>"Where are you going?" asked his neighbor Jans, the forge-master.</p> + +<p>"I am going sailing for a wife," said Norss.</p> + +<p>"For a wife, indeed!" cried Jans. "And why go you to seek her in +foreign lands? Are not our maidens good enough and fair enough, that +you must need search for a wife elsewhere? For shame, Norss! for +shame!"</p> + +<p>But Norss said: "A spirit came to me in my dreams last night and said, +'Launch the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span> boat and set sail to-morrow. Have no fear; for I will +guide you to the bride that awaits you.' Then, standing there, all +white and beautiful, the spirit held forth a symbol—such as I had +never before seen—in the figure of a cross, and the spirit said: 'By +this symbol shall she be known to you.'"</p> + +<p>"If this be so, you must need go," said Jans. "But are you well +victualled? Come to my cabin, and let me give you venison and bear's +meat."</p> + +<p>Norss shook his head. "The spirit will provide," said he. "I have no +fear, and I shall take no care, trusting in the spirit."</p> + +<p>So Norss pushed his boat down the beach into the sea, and leaped into +the boat, and unfurled the sail to the wind. Jans stood wondering on +the beach, and watched the boat speed out of sight.</p> + +<p>On, on, many days on sailed Norss—so many leagues that he thought he +must have compassed the earth. In all this time he knew no hunger nor +thirst; it was as the spirit had told him in his dream—no cares nor +dangers beset him. By day the dolphins and the other creatures of the +sea gambolled about<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> his boat; by night a beauteous Star seemed to +direct his course; and when he slept and dreamed, he saw ever the +spirit clad in white, and holding forth to him the symbol in the +similitude of a cross.</p> + +<p>At last he came to a strange country—a country so very different from +his own that he could scarcely trust his senses. Instead of the rugged +mountains of the North, he saw a gentle landscape of velvety green; +the trees were not pines and firs, but cypresses, cedars, and palms; +instead of the cold, crisp air of his native land, he scented the +perfumed zephyrs of the Orient; and the wind that filled the sail of +his boat and smote his tanned cheeks was heavy and hot with the odor +of cinnamon and spices. The waters were calm and blue—very different +from the white and angry waves of Norss's native fiord.</p> + +<p>As if guided by an unseen hand, the boat pointed straight for the +beach of this strangely beautiful land; and ere its prow cleaved the +shallower waters, Norss saw a maiden standing on the shore, shading +her eyes with her right hand, and gazing intently at him. She was the +most beautiful maiden he had ever<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> looked upon. As Norss was fair, so +was this maiden dark; her black hair fell loosely about her shoulders +in charming contrast with the white raiment in which her slender, +graceful form was clad. Around her neck she wore a golden chain, and +therefrom was suspended a small symbol, which Norss did not +immediately recognize.</p> + + + +<p class="center"><img src="images/image_11.jpg" alt="Hast thou come sailing out of the North into the East?" asked the maiden" width="576" height="383" class="img2" /></p> +<p>"Hast thou come sailing out of the North into the East?" asked the +maiden.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Norss.</p> + +<p>"And thou art Norss?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"I am Norss; and I come seeking my bride," he answered.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I am she," said the maiden. "My name is Faia. An angel came to me in +my dreams last night, and the angel said: 'Stand upon the beach +to-day, and Norss shall come out of the North to bear thee home a +bride.' So, coming here, I found thee sailing to our shore."</p> + +<p>Remembering then the spirit's words, Norss said: "What symbol have +you, Faia, that I may know how truly you have spoken?"</p> + +<p>"No symbol have I but this," said Faia, holding out the symbol that +was attached to the golden chain about her neck. Norss looked upon it, +and lo! it was the symbol of his dreams,—a tiny wooden cross.</p> + +<p>Then Norss clasped Faia in his arms and kissed her, and entering into +the boat they sailed away into the North. In all their voyage neither +care nor danger beset them; for as it had been told to them in their +dreams, so it came to pass. By day the dolphins and the other +creatures of the sea gambolled about them; by night the winds and the +waves sang them to sleep; and, strangely enough, the Star which before +had led Norss into the East, now shone bright and beautiful in the +Northern sky!</p> + +<p>When Norss and his bride reached their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> home, Jans, the forge-master, +and the other neighbors made great joy, and all said that Faia was +more beautiful than any other maiden in the land. So merry was Jans +that he built a huge fire in his forge, and the flames thereof filled +the whole Northern sky with rays of light that danced up, up, up to +the Star, singing glad songs the while. So Norss and Faia were wed, +and they went to live in the cabin in the fir grove.</p> + +<p>To these two was born in good time a son, whom they named Claus. On +the night that he was born wondrous things came to pass. To the cabin +in the fir grove came all the quaint, weird spirits,—the fairies, the +elves, the trolls, the pixies, the fadas, the crions, the goblins, the +kobolds, the moss-people, the gnomes, the dwarfs, the water-sprites, +the courils, the bogles, the brownies, the nixies, the trows, the +stille-volk,—all came to the cabin in the fir grove, and capered +about and sang the strange, beautiful songs of the Mist-Land. And the +flames of old Jans's forge leaped up higher than ever into the +Northern sky, carrying the joyous tidings to the Star, and full of +music was that happy night.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span></p> + +<p>Even in infancy Claus did marvellous things. With his baby hands he +wrought into pretty figures the willows that were given him to play +with. As he grew older, he fashioned, with the knife old Jans had made +for him, many curious toys,—carts, horses, dogs, lambs, houses, +trees, cats, and birds, all of wood and very like to nature. His +mother taught him how to make dolls too,—dolls of every kind, +condition, temper, and color; proud dolls, homely dolls, boy dolls, +lady dolls, wax dolls, rubber dolls, paper dolls, worsted dolls, rag +dolls,—dolls of every description and without end. So Claus became at +once quite as popular with the little girls as with the little boys of +his native village; for he was so generous that he gave away all these +pretty things as fast as he made them.</p> + +<p>Claus seemed to know by instinct every language. As he grew older he +would ramble off into the woods and talk with the trees, the rocks, +and the beasts of the greenwood; or he would sit on the cliffs +overlooking the fiord, and listen to the stories that the waves of the +sea loved to tell him; then, too, he knew the haunts of the elves and +the stille-volk, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> many a pretty tale he learned from these little +people. When night came, old Jans told him the quaint legends of the +North, and his mother sang to him the lullabies she had heard when a +little child herself in the far-distant East. And every night his +mother held out to him the symbol in the similitude of the cross, and +bade him kiss it ere he went to sleep.</p> + +<p>So Claus grew to manhood, increasing each day in knowledge and in +wisdom. His works increased too; and his liberality dispensed +everywhere the beauteous things which his fancy conceived and his +skill executed. Jans, being now a very old man, and having no son of +his own, gave to Claus his forge and workshop, and taught him those +secret arts which he in youth had learned from cunning masters. Right +joyous now was Claus; and many, many times the Northern sky glowed +with the flames that danced singing from the forge while Claus moulded +his pretty toys. Every color of the rainbow were these flames; for +they reflected the bright colors of the beauteous things strewn round +that wonderful workshop. Just as of old he had dispensed to all +children alike <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span>the homelier toys of his youth, so now he gave to all +children alike these more beautiful and more curious gifts. So little +children everywhere loved Claus, because he gave them pretty toys, and +their parents loved him because he made their little ones so happy.</p> + +<p class="center"><a name="img_03" id="img_03"></a><img src="images/image_12.jpg" alt="For he was so generous that he gave away all these pretty things as fast as he made them" width="500" height="734" class="img1" /><span class="caption"><br /> + For he was so generous that he gave away all these +pretty things <br />as fast as he made them.</span></p> + + +<p>But now Norss and Faia were come to old age. After long years of love +and happiness, they knew that death could not be far distant. And one +day Faia said to Norss: "Neither you nor I, dear love, fear death; but +if we could choose, would we not choose to live always in this our son +Claus, who has been so sweet a joy to us?"</p> + +<p>"Ay, ay," said Norss; "but how is that possible?"</p> + +<p>"We shall see," said Faia.</p> + +<p>That night Norss dreamed that a spirit came to him, and that the +spirit said to him: "Norss, thou shalt surely live forever in thy son +Claus, if thou wilt but acknowledge the symbol."</p> + +<p>Then when the morning was come Norss told his dream to Faia, his wife; +and Faia said:</p> + +<p>"The same dream had I,—an angel appearing to me and speaking these +very words."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But what of the symbol?" cried Norss.</p> + +<p>"I have it here, about my neck," said Faia.</p> + +<p>So saying, Faia drew from her bosom the symbol of wood,—a tiny cross +suspended about her neck by the golden chain. And as she stood there +holding the symbol out to Norss, he—he thought of the time when first +he saw her on the far-distant Orient shore, standing beneath the Star +in all her maidenly glory, shading her beauteous eyes with one hand, +and with the other clasping the cross,—the holy talisman of her +faith.</p> + +<p>"Faia, Faia!" cried Norss, "it is the same,—the same you wore when I +fetched you a bride from the East!"</p> + +<p>"It is the same," said Faia, "yet see how my kisses and my prayers +have worn it away; for many, many times in these years, dear Norss, +have I pressed it to my lips and breathed your name upon it. See +now—see what a beauteous light its shadow makes upon your aged face!"</p> + +<p>The sunbeams, indeed, streaming through the window at that moment, +cast the shadow of the symbol on old Norss's brow. Norss felt a +glorious warmth suffuse him, his heart leaped<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> with joy, and he +stretched out his arms and fell about Faia's neck, and kissed the +symbol and acknowledged it. Then likewise did Faia; and suddenly the +place was filled with a wondrous brightness and with strange music, +and never thereafter were Norss and Faia beholden of men.</p> + +<p>Until late that night Claus toiled at his forge; for it was a busy +season with him, and he had many, many curious and beauteous things to +make for the little children in the country round about. The colored +flames leaped singing from his forge, so that the Northern sky seemed +to be lighted by a thousand rainbows; but above all this voiceful +glory beamed the Star, bright, beautiful, serene.</p> + +<p>Coming late to the cabin in the fir grove, Claus wondered that no sign +of his father or of his mother was to be seen. "Father—mother!" he +cried, but he received no answer. Just then the Star cast its golden +gleam through the latticed window, and this strange, holy light fell +and rested upon the symbol of the cross that lay upon the floor. +Seeing it, Claus stooped and picked it up, and kissing it reverently, +he cried: "Dear talisman, be thou<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> my inspiration evermore; and +wheresoever thy blessed influence is felt, there also let my works be +known henceforth forever!"</p> + +<p>No sooner had he said these words than Claus felt the gift of +immortality bestowed upon him; and in that moment, too, there came to +him a knowledge that his parents' prayer had been answered, and that +Norss and Faia would live in him through all time.</p> + +<p>And lo! to that place and in that hour came all the people of +Mist-Land and of Dream-Land to declare allegiance to him: yes, the +elves, the fairies, the pixies,—all came to Claus, prepared to do his +bidding. Joyously they capered about him, and merrily they sang.</p> + +<p>"Now haste ye all," cried Claus,—"haste ye all to your homes and +bring to my workshop the best ye have. Search, little hill-people, +deep in the bowels of the earth for finest gold and choicest jewels; +fetch me, O mermaids, from the bottom of the sea the treasures hidden +there,—the shells of rainbow tints, the smooth, bright pebbles, and +the strange ocean flowers; go, pixies, and other water-sprites, to +your secret lakes, and bring me pearls!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> Speed! speed you all! for +many pretty things have we to make for the little ones of earth we +love!"</p> + +<p class="center"><img src="images/image_13.jpg" alt="Now haste ye all," cried Claus,—"haste ye all to your homes" width="600" height="413" class="img2" /></p> + +<p>But to the kobolds and the brownies Claus said: "Fly to every house on +earth where the cross is known; loiter unseen in the corners, and +watch and hear the children through the day. Keep a strict account of +good and bad, and every night bring back to me the names of good and +bad that I may know them."</p> + +<p>The kobolds and the brownies laughed gleefully, and sped away on +noiseless wings; and so, too, did the other fairies and elves.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span></p> + +<p>There came also to Claus the beasts of the forest and the birds of the +air, and bade him be their master. And up danced the Four Winds, and +they said: "May we not serve you, too?"</p> + +<p>The Snow King came stealing along in his feathery chariot. "Oho!" he +cried, "I shall speed over all the world and tell them you are coming. +In town and country, on the mountain-tops and in the +valleys,—wheresoever the cross is raised,—there will I herald your +approach, and thither will I strew you a pathway of feathery white. +Oho! oho!" So, singing softly, the Snow King stole upon his way.</p> + +<p>But of all the beasts that begged to do him service, Claus liked the +reindeer best. "You shall go with me in my travels; for henceforth I +shall bear my treasures not only to the children of the North, but to +the children in every land whither the Star points me and where the +cross is lifted up!" So said Claus to the reindeer, and the reindeer +neighed joyously and stamped their hoofs impatiently, as though they +longed to start immediately.</p> + +<p>Oh, many, many times has Claus whirled away from his far Northern home +in his sledge<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> drawn by the reindeer, and thousands upon thousands of +beautiful gifts—all of his own making—has he borne to the children +of every land; for he loves them all alike, and they all alike love +him, I trow. So truly do they love him that they call him Santa Claus, +and I am sure that he must be a saint; for he has lived these many +hundred years, and we, who know that he was born of Faith and Love, +believe that he will live forever.</p> + +<p class="center"><img src="images/image_14.jpg" alt="Decorative Image" width="300" height="259" /></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span></p> +<p class="center"><a name="img_04" id="img_04"></a><img src="images/image_15.jpg" alt="Oh, hush thee, little Dear-my-Soul, And close thine eyes in dreaming" width="400" height="584" /><span class="caption"><br /> + Oh, hush thee, little Dear-my-Soul, <br />And close thine +eyes in dreaming.</span></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center"><img src="images/image_16.jpg" alt="Decorative Image" width="600" height="324" /></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHRISTMAS_EVE" id="CHRISTMAS_EVE"></a>CHRISTMAS EVE</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh, hush thee, little Dear-my-Soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The evening shades are falling,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hush thee, my dear, dost thou not hear<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The voice of the Master calling?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Deep lies the snow upon the earth,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But all the sky is ringing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With joyous song, and all night long<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The stars shall dance, with singing.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh, hush thee, little Dear-my-Soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And close thine eyes in dreaming,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And angels fair shall lead thee where<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The singing stars are beaming.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A shepherd calls his little lambs,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And he longeth to caress them;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He bids them rest upon his breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That his tender love may bless them.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So, hush thee, little Dear-my-Soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whilst evening shades are falling,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And above the song of the heavenly throng<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thou shalt hear the Master calling.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><img src="images/image_04.jpg" alt="Decorative Image" width="200" height="164" /></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center"><img src="images/image_17.jpg" alt="Decorative Image" width="600" height="263" /></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="JOELS_TALK_WITH_SANTA_CLAUS" id="JOELS_TALK_WITH_SANTA_CLAUS"></a>JOEL'S TALK WITH SANTA CLAUS</h2> + + +<p>One Christmas eve Joel Baker was in a most unhappy mood. He was +lonesome and miserable; the chimes making merry Christmas music +outside disturbed rather than soothed him, the jingle of the +sleigh-bells fretted him, and the shrill whistling of the wind around +the corners of the house and up and down the chimney seemed to grate +harshly on his ears.</p> + +<p>"Humph," said Joel, wearily, "Christmas is nothin' to me; there <i>was</i> +a time when it meant a great deal, but that was long ago—fifty years +is a long stretch to look back over. There is nothin' in Christmas +now, nothin' for <i>me</i> at least; it is so long since Santa Claus +remembered me that I venture to say he has forgotten that there ever +was such a person as Joel Baker in all the world. It used to be +different; Santa Claus <i>used</i> to think a great deal<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> of me when I was +a boy. Ah! Christmas nowadays ain't what it was in the good old +time—no, not what it used to be."</p> + +<p>As Joel was absorbed in his distressing thoughts he became aware very +suddenly that somebody was entering or trying to enter the room. First +came a draught of cold air, then a scraping, grating sound, then a +strange shuffling, and then,—yes, then, all at once, Joel saw a pair +of fat legs and a still fatter body dangle down the chimney, followed +presently by a long white beard, above which appeared a jolly red nose +and two bright twinkling eyes, while over the head and forehead was +drawn a fur cap, white with snowflakes.</p> + +<p>"Ha, ha," chuckled the fat, jolly stranger, emerging from the chimney +and standing well to one side of the hearth-stone; "ha, ha, they don't +have the big, wide chimneys they used to build, but they can't keep +Santa Claus out—no, they can't keep Santa Claus out! Ha, ha, ha. +Though the chimney were no bigger than a gas pipe, Santa Claus would +slide down it!"</p> + +<p>It didn't require a second glance to assure Joel that the new-comer +was indeed Santa<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> Claus. Joel knew the good old saint—oh, yes—and he +had seen him once before, and, although that was when Joel was a +little boy, he had never forgotten how Santa Claus looked.</p> + +<p class="center"><img src="images/image_18.jpg" alt="Santa Claus looked kindly at Joel" width="600" height="577" class="img2" /></p> + +<p>Nor had Santa Claus forgotten Joel, although Joel thought he had; for +now Santa Claus looked kindly at Joel and smiled and said: "Merry +Christmas to you, Joel!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Thank you, old Santa Claus," replied Joel, "but I don't believe it's +going to be a very merry Christmas. It's been so long since I've had a +merry Christmas that I don't believe I'd know how to act if I had +one."</p> + +<p>"Let's see," said Santa Claus, "it must be going on fifty years since +I saw you last—yes, you were eight years old the last time I slipped +down the chimney of the old homestead and filled your stocking. Do you +remember it?"</p> + +<p>"I remember it well," answered Joel. "I had made up my mind to lie +awake and see Santa Claus; I had heard tell of you, but I'd never seen +you, and Brother Otis and I concluded we'd lie awake and watch for you +to come."</p> + +<p>Santa Claus shook his head reproachfully.</p> + +<p>"That was very wrong," said he, "for I'm so scarey that if I'd known +you boys were awake I'd never have come down the chimney at all, and +then you'd have had no presents."</p> + +<p>"But Otis couldn't keep awake," explained Joel. "We talked about +everythin' we could think of, till father called out to us that if we +didn't stop talking he'd have to send one of us<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> up into the attic to +sleep with the hired man. So in less than five minutes Otis was sound +asleep and no pinching could wake him up. But <i>I</i> was bound to see +Santa Claus and I don't believe anything would've put me to sleep. I +heard the big clock in the sitting-room strike eleven, and I had begun +wonderin' if you never were going to come, when all of a sudden I +heard the tinkle of the bells around your reindeers' necks. Then I +heard the reindeers prancin' on the roof and the sound of your +sleigh-runners cuttin' through the crust and slippin' over the +shingles. I was kind o' scared and I covered my head up with the sheet +and quilts—only I left a little hole so I could peek out and see what +was goin' on. As soon as I saw you I got over bein' scared—for you +were jolly and smilin' like, and you chuckled as you went around to +each stockin' and filled it up."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I can remember the night," said Santa Claus. "I brought you a +sled, didn't I?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and you brought Otis one, too," replied Joel. "Mine was red and +had 'Yankee Doodle' painted in black letters on the side; Otis's was +black and had 'Snow Queen' in gilt letters."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I remember those sleds distinctly," said Santa Claus, "for I made +them specially for you boys."</p> + +<p>"You set the sleds up against the wall," continued Joel, "and then you +filled the stockin's."</p> + +<p>"There were six of 'em, as I recollect?" said Santa Claus.</p> + +<p>"Let me see," queried Joel. "There was mine, and Otis's, and Elvira's, +and Thankful's, and Susan Prickett's—Susan was our help, you know. +No, there were only five, and, as I remember, they were the biggest we +could beg or borrer of Aunt Dorcas, who weighed nigh unto two hundred +pounds. Otis and I didn't like Susan Prickett, and we were hopin' +you'd put a cold potato in her stockin'."</p> + +<p>"But Susan was a good girl," remonstrated Santa Claus. "You know I put +cold potatoes only in the stockin's of boys and girls who are bad and +don't believe in Santa Claus."</p> + +<p>"At any rate," said Joel, "you filled all the stockin's with candy and +pop-corn and nuts and raisins, and I can remember you said you were +afraid you'd run out of pop-corn balls before you got around. Then you +left each<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> of us a book. Elvira got the best one, which was 'The +Garland of Frien'ship,' and had poems in it about the bleeding of +hearts, and so forth. Father wasn't expectin' anything, but you left +him a new pair of mittens, and mother got a new fur boa to wear to +meetin'."</p> + +<p>"Of course," said Santa Claus, "I never forgot father and mother."</p> + +<p>"Well, it was as much as I could do to lay still," continued Joel, +"for I'd been longin' for a sled, an' the sight of that red sled with +'Yankee Doodle' painted on it jest made me wild. But, somehow or +other, I began to get powerful sleepy all at once, and I couldn't keep +my eyes open. The next thing I knew Otis was nudgin' me in the ribs. +'Git up, Joel,' says he; 'it's Chris'mas an' Santa Claus has been +here.' 'Merry Chris'mas! Merry Chris'mas!' we cried as we tumbled out +o' bed. Then Elvira an' Thankful came in, not more 'n half dressed, +and Susan came in, too, an' we just made Rome howl with 'Merry +Chris'mas! Merry Chris'mas!' to each other. 'Ef you children don't +make less noise in there,' cried father, 'I'll hev to send you all +back to bed.' The idea of askin' boys an' girls to keep quiet<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> on +Chris'mas mornin' when they've got new sleds an' 'Garlands of +Frien'ship'!"</p> + +<p>Santa Claus chuckled; his rosy cheeks fairly beamed joy.</p> + +<p>"Otis an' I didn't want any breakfast," said Joel. "We made up our +minds that a stockin'ful of candy and pop-corn and raisins would stay +us for a while. I <i>do</i> believe there wasn't buckwheat cakes enough in +the township to keep us indoors that mornin'; buckwheat cakes don't +size up much 'longside of a red sled with 'Yankee Doodle' painted onto +it and a black sled named 'Snow Queen.' <i>We</i> didn't care how cold it +was—so much the better for slidin' downhill! All the boys had new +sleds—Lafe Dawson, Bill Holbrook, Gum Adams, Rube Playford, Leander +Merrick, Ezra Purple—all on 'em had new sleds excep' Martin Peavey, +and he said he calculated Santa Claus had skipped him this year 'cause +his father had broke his leg haulin' logs from the Pelham woods and +had been kep' indoors six weeks. But Martin had his ol' sled, and he +didn't hev to ask any odds of any of us, neither."</p> + +<p>"I brought Martin a sled the <i>next</i> Christmas," said Santa Claus.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Like as not—but did you ever slide downhill, Santa Claus? I don't +mean such hills as they hev out here in this <i>new</i> country, but one of +them old-fashioned New England hills that was made 'specially for boys +to slide down, full of bumpers an' thank-ye-marms, and about ten times +longer comin' up than it is goin' down! The wind blew in our faces and +almos' took our breath away. 'Merry Chris'mas to ye, little boys!' it +seemed to say, and it untied our mufflers an' whirled the snow in our +faces, jist as if it was a boy, too, an' wanted to play with us. An +ol' crow came flappin' over us from the cornfield beyond the meadow. +He said: 'Caw, caw,' when he saw my new sled—I s'pose he'd never seen +a red one before. Otis had a hard time with <i>his</i> sled—the black +one—an' he wondered why it wouldn't go as fast as mine would. 'Hev +you scraped the paint off'n the runners?' asked Wralsey Goodnow. +'Course I hev,' said Otis; 'broke my own knife an' Lute Ingraham's +a-doin' it, but it don't seem to make no dif'rence—the darned ol' +thing won't go!' Then, what did Simon Buzzell say but that, like's +not, it was because Otis's sled's name was 'Snow Queen.' 'Never did +see<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> a girl sled that was worth a cent, anyway,' sez Simon. Well, now, +that jest about broke Otis up in business. 'It ain't a girl sled,' sez +he, 'and its name ain't "Snow Queen"! I'm a-goin' to call it "Dan'l +Webster," or "Ol'ver Optic," or "Sheriff Robbins," or after some other +big man!' An' the boys plagued him so much about that pesky girl sled +that he scratched off the name, an', as I remember, it <i>did</i> go better +after that!</p> + +<p>"About the only thing," continued Joel, "that marred the harmony of +the occasion, as the editor of the <i>Hampshire County Phoenix</i> used to +say, was the ashes that Deacon Morris Frisbie sprinkled out in front +of his house. He said he wasn't going to have folks breakin' their +necks jest on account of a lot of frivolous boys that was goin' to the +gallows as fas' as they could! Oh, how we hated him! and we'd have +snowballed him, too, if we hadn't been afraid of the constable that +lived next door. But the ashes didn't bother us much, and every time +we slid side-saddle we'd give the ashes a kick, and that sort of +scattered 'em."</p> + +<p>The bare thought of this made Santa Claus laugh.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center"><img src="images/image_19.jpg" alt=""Goin' on about nine o'clock," said Joel, "the girls come along" width="500" height="547" class="img2" /></p> + +<p>"Goin' on about nine o'clock," said Joel, "the girls come +along—Sister Elvira an' Thankful, Prudence Tucker, Belle Yocum, +Sophrone Holbrook, Sis Hubbard, an' Marthy Sawyer. Marthy's brother +Increase wanted her to ride on <i>his</i> sled, but Marthy allowed that a +red sled<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> was her choice every time. 'I don't see how I'm goin' to +hold on,' said Marthy. 'Seems as if I would hev my hands full keepin' +my things from blowin' away.' 'Don't worry about yourself, Marthy,' +sez I, 'for if you'll look after your things, I kind o' calc'late I'll +manage not to lose <i>you</i> on the way.' Dear Marthy—seems as if I could +see you now, with your tangled hair a-blowin' in the wind, your eyes +all bright and sparklin', an' your cheeks as red as apples. Seems, +too, as if I could hear you laughin' and callin', jist as you did as I +toiled up the old New England hill that Chris'mas mornin'—a-callin': +'Joel, Joel, Joel—ain't ye ever comin', Joel?' But the hill is long +and steep, Marthy, an' Joel ain't the boy he used to be; he's old, an' +gray, an' feeble, but there's love an' faith in his heart, an' they +kind o' keep him totterin' tow'rd the voice he hears a-callin': 'Joel, +Joel, Joel!'"</p> + +<p>"I know—I see it all," murmured Santa Claus very softly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, that was so long ago," sighed Joel; "so very long ago! And I've +had no Chris'mas since—only once, when our little one—Marthy's an' +mine—you remember him, Santa Claus?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes," said Santa Claus, "a toddling little boy with blue eyes—"</p> + +<p>"Like his mother," interrupted Joel; "an' he <i>was</i> like her, too—so +gentle an' lovin', only we called him Joel, for that was my father's +name and it kind o' run in the fam'ly. He wa'n't more'n three years +old when you came with your Chris'mas presents for him, Santa Claus. +We had told him about you, and he used to go to the chimney every +night and make a little prayer about what he wanted you to bring him. +And you brought 'em, too—a stick-horse, an' a picture-book, an' some +blocks, an' a drum—they're on the shelf in the closet there, and his +little Chris'mas stockin' with 'em—I've saved 'em all, an' I've taken +'em down an' held 'em in my hands, oh, so many times!"</p> + +<p>"But when I came again," said Santa Claus—</p> + +<p>"His little bed was empty, an' I was alone. It killed his +mother—Marthy was so tender-hearted; she kind o' drooped an' pined +after that. So now they've been asleep side by side in the +buryin'-ground these thirty years.</p> + +<p>"That's why I'm so sad-like whenever Chris'mas comes," said Joel, +after a pause. "The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> thinkin' of long ago makes me bitter almost. It's +so different now from what it used to be."</p> + +<p>"No, Joel, oh, no," said Santa Claus. "'Tis the same world, and human +nature is the same and always will be. But Christmas is for the little +folks, and you, who are old and grizzled now, must know it and love it +only through the gladness it brings the little ones."</p> + +<p>"True," groaned Joel; "but how may I know and feel this gladness when +I have no little stocking hanging in my chimney corner—no child to +please me with his prattle? See, I am alone."</p> + +<p>"No, you're not alone, Joel," said Santa Claus. "There are children in +this great city who would love and bless you for your goodness if you +but touched their hearts. Make them happy, Joel; send by me this night +some gift to the little boy in the old house yonder—he is poor and +sick; a simple toy will fill his Christmas with gladness."</p> + +<p>"His little sister, too—take <i>her</i> some presents," said Joel; "make +them happy for me, Santa Claus—you are right—make them happy for +me."</p> + +<p>How sweetly Joel slept! When he awoke, the sunlight streamed in +through the window<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> and seemed to bid him a merry Christmas. How +contented and happy Joel felt! It must have been the talk with Santa +Claus that did it all; he had never known a sweeter sense of peace. A +little girl came out of the house over the way. She had a new doll in +her arms, and she sang a merry little song and she laughed with joy as +she skipped along the street. Ay, and at the window sat the little +sick boy, and the toy Santa Claus left him seemed to have brought him +strength and health, for his eyes sparkled and his cheeks glowed, and +it was plain to see his heart was full of happiness.</p> + +<p>And, oh! how the chimes did ring out, and how joyfully they sang their +Christmas carol that morning! They sang of Bethlehem and the manger +and the Babe; they sang of love and charity, till all the Christmas +air seemed full of angel voices.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Carol of the Christmas morn—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Carol of the Christ-child born—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Carol to the list'ning sky<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Till it echoes back again<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Glory be to God on high,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Peace on earth, good will tow'rd men!"<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span></p> +<p>So all this music—the carol of the chimes, the sound of children's +voices, the smile of the poor little boy over the way—all this sweet +music crept into Joel's heart that Christmas morning; yes, and with +these sweet, holy influences came others so subtile and divine that in +its silent communion with them, Joel's heart cried out amen and amen +to the glory of the Christmas time.</p> + +<p class="center"><img src="images/image_20.jpg" alt="Decorative Image" width="300" height="344" /></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center"><img src="images/image_21.jpg" alt="Decorative Image" width="600" height="389" /></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="THE_THREE_KINGS_OF_COLOGNE" id="THE_THREE_KINGS_OF_COLOGNE"></a>THE THREE KINGS OF COLOGNE</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">From out Cologne there came three kings<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To worship Jesus Christ, their King.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Him they sought fine herbs they brought,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And many a beauteous golden thing;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They brought their gifts to Bethlehem town,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in that manger set them down.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then spake the first king, and he said:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"O Child, most heavenly, bright, and fair!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I bring this crown to Bethlehem town<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For Thee, and only Thee, to wear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So give a heavenly crown to me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When I shall come at last to Thee!"<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The second, then. "I bring Thee here<br /></span> +<span class="i1">This royal robe, O Child!" he cried;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Of silk 'tis spun, and such an one<br /></span> +<span class="i1">There is not in the world beside;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So in the day of doom requite<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Me with a heavenly robe of white!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The third king gave his gift, and quoth:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Spikenard and myrrh to Thee I bring,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with these twain would I most fain<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Anoint the body of my King;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So may their incense sometime rise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To plead for me in yonder skies!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thus spake the three kings of Cologne,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That gave their gifts, and went their way;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And now kneel I in prayer hard by<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The cradle of the Child to-day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor crown, nor robe, nor spice I bring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As offering unto Christ, my King.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet have I brought a gift the Child<br /></span> +<span class="i1">May not despise, however small;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For here I lay my heart to-day,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And it is full of love to all.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take Thou the poor but loyal thing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My only tribute, Christ, my King!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span></p> +<p class="center"><img src="images/image_22.jpg" alt="Decorative Image" width="600" height="134" /></p> +<h2><a name="THE_COMING_OF_THE_PRINCE" id="THE_COMING_OF_THE_PRINCE"></a>THE COMING OF THE PRINCE</h2> + +<h2>I</h2> + + +<p>"Whirr-r-r! whirr-r-r! whirr-r-r!" said the wind, and it tore through +the streets of the city that Christmas eve, turning umbrellas inside +out, driving the snow in fitful gusts before it, creaking the rusty +signs and shutters, and playing every kind of rude prank it could +think of.</p> + +<p>"How cold your breath is to-night!" said Barbara, with a shiver, as +she drew her tattered little shawl the closer around her benumbed +body.</p> + +<p>"Whirr-r-r! whirr-r-r! whirr-r-r!" answered the wind; "but why are you +out in this storm? You should be at home by the warm fire."</p> + +<p>"I have no home," said Barbara; and then she sighed bitterly, and +something like a tiny pearl came in the corner of one of her sad blue +eyes.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span></p> + +<p>But the wind did not hear her answer, for it had hurried up the street +to throw a handful of snow in the face of an old man who was +struggling along with a huge basket of good things on each arm.</p> + +<p>"Why are you not at the cathedral?" asked a snowflake, as it alighted +on Barbara's shoulder. "I heard grand music, and saw beautiful lights +there as I floated down from the sky a moment ago."</p> + +<p>"What are they doing at the cathedral?" inquired Barbara.</p> + +<p>"Why, haven't you heard?" exclaimed the snowflake. "I supposed +everybody knew that the prince was coming to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"Surely enough; this is Christmas eve," said Barbara, "and the prince +will come to-morrow."</p> + +<p>Barbara remembered that her mother had told her about the prince, how +beautiful and good and kind and gentle he was, and how he loved the +little children; but her mother was dead now, and there was none to +tell Barbara of the prince and his coming,—none but the little +snowflake.</p> + +<p>"I should like to see the prince," said Bar<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span>bara, "for I have heard he +was very beautiful and good."</p> + +<p>"That he is," said the snowflake. "I have never seen him, but I heard +the pines and the firs singing about him as I floated over the forest +to-night."</p> + +<p>"Whirr-r-r! whirr-r-r!" cried the wind, returning boisterously to +where Barbara stood. "I've been looking for you everywhere, little +snowflake! So come with me."</p> + +<p>And without any further ado, the wind seized upon the snowflake and +hurried it along the street and led it a merry dance through the icy +air of the winter night.</p> + +<p>Barbara trudged on through the snow and looked in at the bright things +in the shop windows. The glitter of the lights and the sparkle of the +vast array of beautiful Christmas toys quite dazzled her. A strange +mingling of admiration, regret, and envy filled the poor little +creature's heart.</p> + +<p>"Much as I may yearn to have them, it cannot be," she said to herself, +"yet I may feast my eyes upon them."</p> + +<p>"Go away from here!" said a harsh voice. "How can the rich people see +all my fine things<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> if you stand before the window? Be off with you, +you miserable little beggar!"</p> + +<p class="center"><img src="images/image_23.jpg" alt=""Go away from here!" said a harsh voice." width="600" height="505" class="img2" /></p> + +<p>It was the shopkeeper, and he gave Barbara a savage box on the ear +that sent her reeling into the deeper snowdrifts of the gutter.</p> + +<p>Presently she came to a large house where there seemed to be much +mirth and festivity. The shutters were thrown open, and through the +windows Barbara could see a beautiful Christmas-tree in the centre of +a spacious room<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span>—a beautiful Christmas-tree ablaze with red and +green lights, and heavy with toys and stars and glass balls and other +beautiful things that children love. There was a merry throng around +the tree, and the children were smiling and gleeful, and all in that +house seemed content and happy. Barbara heard them singing, and their +song was about the prince who was to come on the morrow.</p> + +<p>"This must be the house where the prince will stop," thought Barbara. +"How I would like to see his face and hear his voice!—yet what would +he care for <i>me</i>, a 'miserable little beggar'?"</p> + +<p>So Barbara crept on through the storm, shivering and disconsolate, yet +thinking of the prince.</p> + +<p>"Where are you going?" she asked of the wind as it overtook her.</p> + +<p>"To the cathedral," laughed the wind. "The great people are flocking +there, and I will have a merry time amongst them, ha, ha, ha!"</p> + +<p>And with laughter the wind whirled away and chased the snow toward the +cathedral.</p> + +<p>"It is there, then, that the prince will come," thought Barbara. "It +is a beautiful<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span> place, and the people will pay him homage there. +Perhaps I shall see him if I go there."</p> + +<p class="center"><a name="img_05" id="img_05"></a><img src="images/image_24.jpg" alt=""This must be the house where the prince will stop," thought Barbara" width="400" height="595" /><span class="caption"><br /> + "This must be the house where the prince <br />will stop," +thought Barbara.</span></p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span></p> + +<p>So she went to the cathedral. Many folk were there in their richest +apparel, and the organ rolled out its grand music, and the people sang +wondrous songs, and the priests made eloquent prayers; and the music, +and the songs, and the prayers were all about the prince and his +expected coming. The throng that swept in and out of the great edifice +talked always of the prince, the prince, the prince, until Barbara +really loved him very much, for all the gentle words she heard the +people say of him.</p> + +<p>"Please, can I go and sit inside?" inquired Barbara of the sexton.</p> + +<p>"No!" said the sexton gruffly, for this was an important occasion with +the sexton, and he had no idea of wasting words on a beggar child.</p> + +<p>"But I will be very good and quiet," pleaded Barbara. "Please may I +not see the prince?"</p> + +<p>"I have said no, and I mean it," retorted the sexton. "What have you +for the prince, or what cares the prince for you? Out with you, and +don't be blocking up the door-way!" So the sexton gave Barbara an +angry push, and the child fell half-way down the icy steps of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> the +cathedral. She began to cry. Some great people were entering the +cathedral at the time, and they laughed to see her falling.</p> + +<p>"Have you seen the prince?" inquired a snowflake, alighting on +Barbara's cheek. It was the same little snowflake that had clung to +her shawl an hour ago, when the wind came galloping along on his +boisterous search.</p> + +<p>"Ah, no!" sighed Barbara in tears; "but what cares the prince for +<i>me</i>?"</p> + +<p>"Do not speak so bitterly," said the little snowflake. "Go to the +forest and you shall see him, for the prince always comes through the +forest to the city."</p> + +<p>Despite the cold, and her bruises, and her tears, Barbara smiled. In +the forest she could behold the prince coming on his way; and he would +not see her, for she would hide among the trees and vines.</p> + +<p>"Whirr-r-r, whirr-r-r!" It was the mischievous, romping wind once +more; and it fluttered Barbara's tattered shawl, and set her hair to +streaming in every direction, and swept the snowflake from her cheek +and sent it spinning through the air.</p> + +<p>Barbara trudged toward the forest. When<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> she came to the city gate the +watchman stopped her, and held his big lantern in her face, and asked +her who she was and where she was going.</p> + +<p>"I am Barbara, and I am going into the forest," said she boldly.</p> + +<p>"Into the forest?" cried the watchman, "and in this storm? No, child; +you will perish!"</p> + +<p>"But I am going to see the prince," said Barbara. "They will not let +me watch for him in the church, nor in any of their pleasant homes, so +I am going into the forest."</p> + +<p>The watchman smiled sadly. He was a kindly man; he thought of his own +little girl at home.</p> + +<p>"No, you must not go to the forest," said he, "for you would perish +with the cold."</p> + +<p>But Barbara would not stay. She avoided the watchman's grasp and ran +as fast as ever she could through the city gate.</p> + +<p>"Come back, come back!" cried the watchman; "you will perish in the +forest!"</p> + +<p>But Barbara would not heed his cry. The falling snow did not stay her, +nor did the cutting blast. She thought only of the prince, and she ran +straightway to the forest.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center"><img src="images/image_25.jpg" alt="Decorative Image" width="600" height="203" /></p> + + +<h2>II</h2> + +<p>"What do you see up there, O pine-tree?" asked a little vine in the +forest. "You lift your head among the clouds to-night, and you tremble +strangely as if you saw wondrous sights."</p> + +<p>"I see only the distant hill-tops and the dark clouds," answered the +pine-tree. "And the wind sings of the snow-king to-night; to all my +questionings he says, 'Snow, snow, snow,' till I am wearied with his +refrain."</p> + +<p>"But the prince will surely come to-morrow?" inquired the tiny +snowdrop that nestled close to the vine.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," said the vine. "I heard the country folks talking about it +as they went through the forest to-day, and they said that the prince +would surely come on the morrow."</p> + +<p>"What are you little folks down there talking about?" asked the +pine-tree.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span></p> + +<p>"We are talking about the prince," said the vine.</p> + +<p>"Yes, he is to come on the morrow," said the pine-tree, "but not until +the day dawns, and it is still all dark in the east."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the fir-tree, "the east is black, and only the wind and +the snow issue from it."</p> + +<p>"Keep your head out of my way!" cried the pine-tree to the fir; "with +your constant bobbing around I can hardly see at all."</p> + +<p>"Take <i>that</i> for your bad manners," retorted the fir, slapping the +pine-tree savagely with one of her longest branches.</p> + +<p>The pine-tree would put up with no such treatment, so he hurled his +largest cone at the fir; and for a moment or two it looked as if there +were going to be a serious commotion in the forest.</p> + +<p>"Hush!" cried the vine in a startled tone; "there is some one coming +through the forest."</p> + +<p>The pine-tree and the fir stopped quarrelling, and the snowdrop +nestled closer to the vine, while the vine hugged the pine-tree very +tightly. All were greatly alarmed.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" said the pine-tree, in a tone<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> of assumed bravery. "No one +would venture into the forest at such an hour."</p> + +<p>"Indeed! and why not?" cried a child's voice. "Will you not let me +watch with you for the coming of the prince?"</p> + +<p>"Will you not chop me down?" inquired the pine-tree gruffly.</p> + +<p>"Will you not tear me from my tree?" asked the vine.</p> + +<p>"Will you not pluck my blossoms?" plaintively piped the snowdrop.</p> + +<p>"No, of course not," said Barbara; "I have come only to watch with you +for the prince."</p> + +<p>Then Barbara told them who she was, and how cruelly she had been +treated in the city, and how she longed to see the prince, who was to +come on the morrow. And as she talked, the forest and all therein felt +a great compassion for her.</p> + +<p>"Lie at my feet," said the pine-tree, "and I will protect you."</p> + +<p>"Nestle close to me, and I will chafe your temples and body and limbs +till they are warm," said the vine.</p> + +<p>"Let me rest upon your cheek, and I will sing you my little songs," +said the snowdrop.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span></p> + +<p>And Barbara felt very grateful for all these homely kindnesses. She +rested in the velvety snow at the foot of the pine-tree, and the vine +chafed her body and limbs, and the little flower sang sweet songs to +her.</p> + +<p>"Whirr-r-r, whirr-r-r!" There was that noisy wind again, but this time +it was gentler than it had been in the city.</p> + +<p>"Here you are, my little Barbara," said the wind, in kindly tones. "I +have brought you the little snowflake. I am glad you came away from +the city, for the people are proud and haughty there; oh, but I will +have my fun with them!"</p> + +<p>Then, having dropped the little snowflake on Barbara's cheek, the wind +whisked off to the city again. And we can imagine that it played rare +pranks with the proud, haughty folk on its return; for the wind, as +you know, is no respecter of persons.</p> + +<p>"Dear Barbara," said the snowflake, "I will watch with thee for the +coming of the prince."</p> + +<p>And Barbara was glad, for she loved the little snowflake, that was so +pure and innocent and gentle.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Tell us, O pine-tree," cried the vine, "what do you see in the east? +Has the prince yet entered the forest?"</p> + +<p>"The east is full of black clouds," said the pine-tree, "and the winds +that hurry to the hill-tops sing of the snow."</p> + +<p>"But the city is full of brightness," said the fir. "I can see the +lights in the cathedral, and I can hear wondrous music about the +prince and his coming."</p> + +<p>"Yes, they are singing of the prince in the cathedral," said Barbara +sadly.</p> + +<p>"But we shall see him first," whispered the vine reassuringly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, the prince will come through the forest," said the little +snowdrop gleefully.</p> + +<p>"Fear not, dear Barbara, we shall behold the prince in all his glory," +cried the snowflake.</p> + +<p>Then all at once there was a strange hub-bub in the forest; for it +was midnight, and the spirits came from their hiding-places to prowl +about and to disport themselves. Barbara beheld them all in great +wonder and trepidation, for she had never before seen the spirits of +the forest, although she had often heard of them. It was a marvellous +sight.</p> + +<p class="center"><a name="img_06" id="img_06"></a><img src="images/image_26.jpg" alt="So Barbara fell asleep" width="400" height="592" class="img1" /><span class="caption"><br /> +So Barbara fell asleep.</span></p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Fear nothing," whispered the vine to Barbara,—"fear nothing, for +they dare not touch you."</p> + +<p>The antics of the wood-spirits continued but an hour; for then a cock +crowed, and immediately thereat, with a wondrous scurrying, the elves +and the gnomes and the other grotesque spirits sought their +abiding-places in the caves and in the hollow trunks and under the +loose bark of the trees. And then it was very quiet once more in the +forest.</p> + +<p>"It is very cold," said Barbara. "My hands and feet are like ice."</p> + +<p>Then the pine-tree and the fir shook down the snow from their broad +boughs, and the snow fell upon Barbara and covered her like a white +mantle.</p> + +<p>"You will be warm now," said the vine, kissing Barbara's forehead. And +Barbara smiled.</p> + +<p>Then the snowdrop sang a lullaby about the moss that loved the violet. +And Barbara said, "I am going to sleep; will you wake me when the +prince comes through the forest?"</p> + +<p>And they said they would. So Barbara fell asleep.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span></p> + + +<h3>III</h3> + +<p>"The bells in the city are ringing merrily," said the fir, "and the +music in the cathedral is louder and more beautiful than before. Can +it be that the prince has already come into the city?"</p> + +<p>"No," cried the pine-tree, "look to the east and see the Christmas day +a-dawning! The prince is coming, and his pathway is through the +forest!"</p> + +<p>The storm had ceased. Snow lay upon all the earth. The hills, the +forest, the city, and the meadows were white with the robe the +storm-king had thrown over them. Content with his wondrous work, the +storm-king himself had fled to his far Northern home before the dawn +of the Christmas day. Everything was bright and sparkling and +beautiful. And most beautiful was the great hymn of praise the forest +sang that Christmas morning,—the pine-trees and the firs and the +vines and the snow-flowers that sang of the prince and of his promised +coming.</p> + +<p>"Wake up, little one," cried the vine, "for the prince is coming!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span></p> + +<p>But Barbara slept; she did not hear the vine's soft calling nor the +lofty music of the forest.</p> + +<p class="center"><img src="images/image_27.jpg" alt=""Barbara, my little one," said the prince, "awaken, and come with me."" width="500" height="555" class="img2" /></p> + +<p>A little snow-bird flew down from the fir-tree's bough and perched +upon the vine, and carolled in Barbara's ear of the Christmas morning +and of the coming of the prince. But<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> Barbara slept; she did not hear +the carol of the bird.</p> + +<p>"Alas!" sighed the vine, "Barbara will not awaken, and the prince is +coming."</p> + +<p>Then the vine and the snowdrop wept, and the pine-tree and the fir +were very sad.</p> + +<p>The prince came through the forest clad in royal raiment and wearing a +golden crown. Angels came with him, and the forest sang a great hymn +unto the prince, such a hymn as had never before been heard on earth. +The prince came to the sleeping child and smiled upon her and called +her by name.</p> + +<p>"Barbara, my little one," said the prince, "awaken, and come with me."</p> + +<p>Then Barbara opened her eyes and beheld the prince. And it seemed as +if a new life had come to her, for there was warmth in her body and a +flush upon her cheeks and a light in her eyes that were divine. And +she was clothed no longer in rags, but in white flowing raiment; and +upon the soft brown hair there was a crown like those which angels +wear. And as Barbara arose and went to the prince, the little +snowflake fell from her cheek upon her bosom, and forthwith became<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> a +pearl more precious than all other jewels upon earth.</p> + +<p>And the prince took Barbara in his arms and blessed her, and turning +round about, returned with the little child unto his home, while the +forest and the sky and the angels sang a wondrous song.</p> + +<p>The city waited for the prince, but he did not come. None knew of the +glory of the forest that Christmas morning, nor of the new life that +came to little Barbara.</p> + +<p><b><i>Come thou, dear Prince, oh, come to us this holy Christmas time! Come +to the busy marts of earth, the quiet homes, the noisy streets, the +humble lanes; come to us all, and with thy love touch every human +heart, that we may know that love, and in its blessed peace bear +charity to all mankind!</i></b></p> + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span></p> +<p class="center"><img src="images/image_28.jpg" alt="Decorative Image" width="600" height="387" /></p> +<h2><a name="CHRYSTMASSE_OF_OLDE" id="CHRYSTMASSE_OF_OLDE"></a>CHRYSTMASSE OF OLDE</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">God rest you, Chrysten gentil men,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Wherever you may be,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God rest you all in fielde or hall,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Or on ye stormy sea;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For on this morn oure Chryst is born<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That saveth you and me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Last night ye shepherds in ye east<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Saw many a wondrous thing;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye sky last night flamed passing bright<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whiles that ye stars did sing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And angels came to bless ye name<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of Jesus Chryst, oure Kyng.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span></p> +<p class="center"><img src="images/image_29.jpg" alt="Decorative Image" width="600" height="385" /></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">God rest you, Chrysten gentil men,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Faring where'er you may;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In noblesse court do thou no sport,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In tournament no playe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In paynim lands hold thou thy hands<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From bloudy works this daye.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But thinking on ye gentil Lord<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That died upon ye tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let troublings cease and deeds of peace<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Abound in Chrystantie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For on this morn ye Chryst is born<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That saveth you and me.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span></p> +<p class="center"><img src="images/image_30.jpg" alt="Decorative Image" width="500" height="531" /></p> +<h2><a name="THE_MOUSE_AND_THE_MOONBEAM" id="THE_MOUSE_AND_THE_MOONBEAM"></a>THE MOUSE AND THE MOONBEAM</h2> + + + + +<p>Whilst you were sleeping, little Dear-my-Soul, strange things +happened; but that I saw and heard them, I should never have believed +them. The clock stood, of course, in the corner, a moonbeam floated +idly on the floor, and a little mauve mouse came from the hole in the +chimney corner and frisked and scampered in the light of the moonbeam +upon the floor. The little mauve mouse was particularly merry; +sometimes she danced upon two legs and sometimes upon four legs, but +always very daintily and always very merrily.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Ah, me!" sighed the old clock, "how different mice are nowadays from +the mice we used to have in the good old times! Now there was your +grandma, Mistress Velvetpaw, and there was your grandpa, Master +Sniffwhisker,—how grave and dignified they were! Many a night have I +seen them dancing upon the carpet below me, but always the stately +minuet and never that crazy frisking which you are executing now, to +my surprise—yes, and to my horror, too."</p> + +<p>"But why shouldn't I be merry?" asked the little mauve mouse. +"To-morrow is Christmas, and this is Christmas eve."</p> + +<p>"So it is," said the old clock. "I had really forgotten all about it. +But tell me, what is Christmas to you, little Miss Mauve Mouse?"</p> + +<p>"A great deal to me!" cried the little mauve mouse. "I have been very +good a very long time: I have not used any bad words, nor have I +gnawed any holes, nor have I stolen any canary seed, nor have I +worried my mother by running behind the flour-barrel where that horrid +trap is set. In fact, I have been so good that I'm very sure Santa +Claus will bring me something very pretty."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span></p> + +<p>This seemed to amuse the old clock mightily; in fact, the old clock +fell to laughing so heartily that in an unguarded moment she struck +twelve instead of ten, which was exceedingly careless and therefore to +be reprehended.</p> + +<p>"Why, you silly little mauve mouse," said the old clock, "you don't +believe in Santa Claus, do you?"</p> + +<p>"Of course I do," answered the little mauve mouse. "Believe in Santa +Claus? Why shouldn't I? Didn't Santa Claus bring me a beautiful +butter-cracker last Christmas, and a lovely gingersnap, and a +delicious rind of cheese, and—and—lots of things? I should be very +ungrateful if I did not believe in Santa Claus, and I certainly shall +not disbelieve in him at the very moment when I am expecting him to +arrive with a bundle of goodies for me.</p> + +<p class="center"><a name="img_07" id="img_07"></a><img src="images/image_31.jpg" alt=""But why shouldn't I be merry?" asked the little mauve mouse. "To-morrow is Christmas, and this is Christmas eve"" width="400" height="604" class="img1" /><span class="caption"><br /> + "But why shouldn't I be merry?" asked the little mauve +mouse.<br /> "To-morrow is Christmas, and this is Christmas eve."</span></p> + +<p>"I once had a little sister," continued the little mauve mouse, "who +did not believe in Santa Claus, and the very thought of the fate that +befell her makes my blood run cold and my whiskers stand on end. She +died before I was born, but my mother has told me all about her. +Perhaps you never saw her; her name was Squeaknibble, and she was in +stature one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span>of those long, low, rangy mice that are seldom found in +well-stocked pantries. Mother says that Squeaknibble took after our +ancestors who came from New England, where the malignant ingenuity of +the people and the ferocity of the cats rendered life precarious +indeed. Squeaknibble seemed to inherit many ancestral traits, the most +conspicuous of which was a disposition to sneer at some of the most +respected dogmas in mousedom. From her very infancy she doubted, for +example, the widely accepted theory that the moon was composed of +green cheese; and this heresy was the first intimation her parents had +of the sceptical turn of her mind. Of course, her parents were vastly +annoyed, for their maturer natures saw that this youthful scepticism +portended serious, if not fatal, consequences. Yet all in vain did the +sagacious couple reason and plead with their headstrong and heretical +child.</p> + +<p>"For a long time Squeaknibble would not believe that there was any +such archfiend as a cat; but she came to be convinced to the contrary +one memorable night, on which occasion she lost two inches of her +beautiful tail, and received so terrible a fright that for fully<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span> an +hour afterward her little heart beat so violently as to lift her off +her feet and bump her head against the top of our domestic hole. The +cat that deprived my sister of so large a percentage of her vertebral +colophon was the same brindled ogress that nowadays steals ever and +anon into this room, crouches treacherously behind the sofa, and +feigns to be asleep, hoping, forsooth, that some of us, heedless of +her hated presence, will venture within reach of her diabolical claws. +So enraged was this ferocious monster at the escape of my sister that +she ground her fangs viciously together, and vowed to take no pleasure +in life until she held in her devouring jaws the innocent little mouse +which belonged to the mangled bit of tail she even then clutched in +her remorseless claws."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the old clock, "now that you recall the incident, I +recollect it well. I was here then, in this very corner, and I +remember that I laughed at the cat and chided her for her awkwardness. +My reproaches irritated her; she told me that a clock's duty was to +run itself down, <i>not</i> to be depreciating the merits of others! Yes, I +recall the time; that cat's tongue is fully as sharp as her claws."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Be that as it may," said the little mauve mouse, "it is a matter of +history, and therefore beyond dispute, that from that very moment the +cat pined for Squeaknibble's life; it seemed as if that one little +two-inch taste of Squeaknibble's tail had filled the cat with a +consuming passion, or appetite, for the rest of Squeaknibble. So the +cat waited and watched and hunted and schemed and devised and did +everything possible for a cat—a cruel cat—to do in order to gain her +murderous ends. One night—one fatal Christmas eve—our mother had +undressed the children for bed, and was urging upon them to go to +sleep earlier than usual, since she fully expected that Santa Claus +would bring each of them something very palatable and nice before +morning. Thereupon the little dears whisked their cunning tails, +pricked up their beautiful ears, and began telling one another what +they hoped Santa Claus would bring. One asked for a slice of +Roquefort, another for Neufchatel, another for Sap Sago, and a fourth +for Edam; one expressed a preference for de Brie, while another hoped +to get Parmesan; one clamored for imperial blue Stilton, and another +craved the fragrant boon of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> Caprera. There were fourteen little ones +then, and consequently there were diverse opinions as to the kind of +gift which Santa Claus should best bring; still, there was, as you can +readily understand, an enthusiastic unanimity upon this point, namely, +that the gift should be cheese of some brand or other.</p> + +<p>"'My dears,' said our mother, 'what matters it whether the boon which +Santa Claus brings be royal English cheddar or fromage de Bricquebec, +Vermont sage, or Herkimer County skim-milk? We should be content with +whatsoever Santa Claus bestows, so long as it be cheese, disjoined +from all traps whatsoever, unmixed with Paris green, and free from +glass, strychnine, and other harmful ingredients. As for myself, I +shall be satisfied with a cut of nice, fresh Western reserve; for +truly I recognize in no other viand or edible half the fragrance or +half the gustfulness to be met with in one of these pale but aromatic +domestic products. So run away to your dreams now, that Santa Claus +may find you sleeping.'</p> + +<p>"The children obeyed,—all but Squeaknibble. 'Let the others think +what they please,' said she, 'but <i>I</i> don't believe in Santa Claus.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> +I'm not going to bed, either. I'm going to creep out of this dark hole +and have a quiet romp, all by myself, in the moonlight.' Oh, what a +vain, foolish, wicked little mouse was Squeaknibble! But I will not +reproach the dead; her punishment came all too swiftly. Now listen: +who do you suppose overheard her talking so disrespectfully of Santa +Claus?"</p> + +<p>"Why, Santa Claus himself," said the old clock.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," answered the little mauve mouse. "It was that wicked, +murderous cat! Just as Satan lurks and lies in wait for bad children, +so does the cruel cat lurk and lie in wait for naughty little mice. +And you can depend upon it that, when that awful cat heard +Squeaknibble speak so disrespectfully of Santa Claus, her wicked eyes +glowed with joy, her sharp teeth watered, and her bristling fur +emitted electric sparks as big as marrowfat peas. Then what did that +blood-thirsty monster do but scuttle as fast as she could into +Dear-my-Soul's room, leap up into Dear-my-Soul's crib, and walk off +with the pretty little white muff which Dear-my-Soul used to wear when +she went for a visit to the little girl in the next block! What upon<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> +earth did the horrid old cat want with Dear-my-Soul's pretty little +white muff? Ah, the duplicity, the diabolical ingenuity of that cat! +Listen.</p> + +<p>"In the first place," resumed the little mauve mouse, after a pause +that testified eloquently to the depth of her emotion,—"in the first +place, that wretched cat dressed herself up in that pretty little +white muff, by which you are to understand that she crawled through +the muff just so far as to leave her four cruel legs at liberty."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I understand," said the old clock.</p> + +<p>"Then she put on the boy doll's fur cap," said the little mauve mouse, +"and when she was arrayed in the boy doll's fur cap and Dear-my-Soul's +pretty little white muff, of course she didn't look like a cruel cat +at all. But whom did she look like?"</p> + +<p>"Like the boy doll," suggested the old clock.</p> + +<p>"No, no!" cried the little mauve mouse.</p> + +<p>"Like Dear-my-Soul?" asked the old clock.</p> + +<p>"How stupid you are!" exclaimed the little mauve mouse. "Why, she +looked like Santa Claus, of course!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; I see," said the old clock. "Now I begin to be interested; +go on."</p> + +<p>"Alas!" sighed the little mauve mouse, "not much remains to be told; +but there is more of my story left than there was of Squeaknibble when +that horrid cat crawled out of that miserable disguise. You are to +understand that, contrary to her sagacious mother's injunction, and in +notorious derision of the mooted coming of Santa Claus, Squeaknibble +issued from the friendly hole in the chimney corner, and gambolled +about over this very carpet, and, I dare say, in this very moonlight."</p> + +<p>"I do not know," said the moonbeam faintly. "I am so very old, and I +have seen so many things—I do not know."</p> + +<p>"Right merrily was Squeaknibble gambolling," continued the little +mauve mouse, "and she had just turned a double back somersault without +the use of what remained of her tail, when, all of a sudden, she +beheld, looming up like a monster ghost, a figure all in white fur! +Oh, how frightened she was, and how her little heart did beat! 'Purr, +purr-r-r,' said the ghost in white fur. 'Oh, please don't hurt me!' +pleaded Squeaknibble. 'No; I'll not hurt you,'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> said the ghost in +white fur; 'I'm Santa Claus, and I've brought you a beautiful piece of +savory old cheese, you dear little mousie, you.' Poor Squeaknibble was +deceived; a sceptic all her life, she was at last befooled by the most +palpable and most fatal of frauds. 'How good of you!' said +Squeaknibble. 'I didn't believe there was a Santa Claus, and—' but +before she could say more she was seized by two sharp, cruel claws +that conveyed her crushed body to the murderous mouth of mousedom's +most malignant foe. I can dwell no longer upon this harrowing scene. +Suffice it to say that ere the morrow's sun rose like a big yellow +Herkimer County cheese upon the spot where that tragedy had been +enacted, poor Squeaknibble passed to that bourn whence two inches of +her beautiful tail had preceded her by the space of three weeks to a +day. As for Santa Claus, when he came that Christmas eve, bringing +morceaux de Brie and of Stilton for the other little mice, he heard +with sorrow of Squeaknibble's fate; and ere he departed he said that +in all his experience he had never known of a mouse or of a child that +had prospered after once saying that he didn't believe in Santa +Claus."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, that is a remarkable story," said the old clock. "But if you +believe in Santa Claus, why aren't you in bed?"</p> + +<p>"That's where I shall be presently," answered the little mauve mouse, +"but I must have my scamper, you know. It is very pleasant, I assure +you, to frolic in the light of the moon; only I cannot understand why +you are always so cold and so solemn and so still, you pale, pretty +little moonbeam."</p> + +<p>"Indeed, I do not know that I am so," said the moonbeam. "But I am +very old, and I have travelled many, many leagues, and I have seen +wondrous things. Sometimes I toss upon the ocean, sometimes I fall +upon a slumbering flower, sometimes I rest upon a dead child's face. I +see the fairies at their play, and I hear mothers singing lullabies. +Last night I swept across the frozen bosom of a river. A woman's face +looked up at me; it was the picture of eternal rest. 'She is +sleeping,' said the frozen river. 'I rock her to and fro, and sing to +her. Pass gently by, O moonbeam; pass gently by, lest you awaken +her.'"</p> + +<p>"How strangely you talk," said the old clock. "Now, I'll warrant me +that, if you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span> wanted to, you could tell many a pretty and wonderful +story. You must know many a Christmas tale; pray, tell us one to wear +away this night of Christmas watching."</p> + +<p>"I know but one," said the moonbeam. "I have told it over and over +again, in every land and in every home; yet I do not weary of it. It +is very simple. Should you like to hear it?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed we should," said the old clock; "but before you begin, let me +strike twelve; for I shouldn't want to interrupt you."</p> + +<p>When the old clock had performed this duty with somewhat more than +usual alacrity, the moonbeam began its story:</p> + +<p>"Upon a time—so long ago that I can't tell how long ago it was—I +fell upon a hill-side. It was in a far distant country; this I know, +because, although it was the Christmas time, it was not in that +country as it is wont to be in countries to the north. Hither the +snow-king never came; flowers bloomed all the year, and at all times +the lambs found pleasant pasturage on the hill-sides. The night wind +was balmy, and there was a fragrance of cedar in its breath. There +were violets on the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> hill-side, and I fell amongst them and lay there. +I kissed them, and they awakened. 'Ah, is it you, little moonbeam?' +they said, and they nestled in the grass which the lambs had left +uncropped.</p> + +<p>"A shepherd lay upon a broad stone on the hill-side; above him spread +an olive-tree, old, ragged, and gloomy; but now it swayed its rusty +branches majestically in the shifting air of night. The shepherd's +name was Benoni. Wearied with long watching, he had fallen asleep; his +crook had slipped from his hand. Upon the hill-side, too, slept the +shepherd's flock. I had counted them again and again; I had stolen +across their gentle faces and brought them pleasant dreams of green +pastures and of cool water-brooks. I had kissed old Benoni, too, as he +lay slumbering there; and in his dreams he seemed to see Israel's King +come upon earth, and in his dreams he murmured the promised Messiah's +name.</p> + +<p>"'Ah, is it you, little moonbeam?' quoth the violets. 'You have come +in good time. Nestle here with us, and see wonderful things come to +pass.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span></p> + +<p>"'What are these wonderful things of which you speak?' I asked.</p> + +<p>"'We heard the old olive-tree telling of them to-night,' said the +violets. 'Do not go to sleep, little violets,' said the old +olive-tree, 'for this is Christmas night, and the Master shall walk +upon the hill-side in the glory of the midnight hour.' So we waited +and watched; one by one the lambs fell asleep; one by one the stars +peeped out; the shepherd nodded and crooned, and crooned and nodded, +and at last he, too, went fast asleep, and his crook slipped from his +keeping. Then we called to the old olive-tree yonder, asking how soon +the midnight hour would come; but all the old olive-tree answered was +'Presently, presently,' and finally we, too, fell asleep, wearied by +our long watching, and lulled by the rocking and swaying of the old +olive-tree in the breezes of the night.</p> + +<p>"'But who is this Master?' I asked.</p> + +<p>"'A child, a little child,' they answered. 'He is called the little +Master by the others. He comes here often, and plays among the flowers +of the hill-side. Sometimes the lambs, gambolling too carelessly, have +crushed and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> bruised us so that we lie bleeding and are like to die; +but the little Master heals our wounds and refreshes us once again.'</p> + +<p>"I marvelled much to hear these things. 'The midnight hour is at +hand,' said I, 'and I will abide with you to see this little Master of +whom you speak.' So we nestled among the verdure of the hill-side, and +sang songs one to another.</p> + +<p>"'Come away!' called the night wind; 'I know a beauteous sea not far +hence, upon whose bosom you shall float, float, float away out into +the mists and clouds, if you will come with me.'</p> + +<p>"But I hid under the violets and amid the tall grass, that the night +wind might not woo me with its pleading. 'Ho, there, old olive-tree!' +cried the violets; 'do you see the little Master coming? Is not the +midnight hour at hand?'</p> + +<p>"'I can see the town yonder,' said the old olive-tree. 'A star beams +bright over Bethlehem, the iron gates swing open, and the little +Master comes.'</p> + +<p>"Two children came to the hill-side. The one, older than his comrade, +was Dimas, the son of Benoni. He was rugged and sinewy, and over his +brown shoulders was flung a goat<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span>skin; a leathern cap did not confine +his long, dark curly hair. The other child was he whom they called the +little Master; about his slender form clung raiment white as snow, and +around his face of heavenly innocence fell curls of golden yellow. So +beautiful a child I had not seen before, nor have I ever since seen +such as he. And as they came together to the hill-side, there seemed +to glow about the little Master's head a soft white light, as if the +moon had sent its tenderest, fairest beams to kiss those golden curls.</p> + +<p>"'What sound was that?' cried Dimas, for he was exceeding fearful.</p> + +<p>"'Have no fear, Dimas,' said the little Master. 'Give me thy hand, and +I will lead thee.'</p> + +<p>"Presently they came to the rock whereon Benoni, the shepherd, lay; +and they stood under the old olive-tree, and the old olive-tree swayed +no longer in the night wind, but bent its branches reverently in the +presence of the little Master. It seemed as if the wind, too, stayed +in its shifting course just then; for suddenly there was a solemn +hush, and you could hear no noise, except that in his dreams Benoni +spoke the Messiah's name.</p> + +<p class="center"><a name="img_08" id="img_08"></a><img src="images/image_32.jpg" alt=""'What sound was that?' cried Dimas, for he was exceeding fearful"" width="400" height="595" class="img1" /><span class="caption"><br /> + "'What sound was that?' cried Dimas, for he was<br /> +exceeding fearful."</span></p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span></p> + +<p>"'Thy father sleeps,' said the little Master, 'and it is well that it +is so; for that I love thee Dimas, and that thou shalt walk with me in +my Father's kingdom, I would show thee the glories of my birthright.'</p> + +<p>"Then all at once sweet music filled the air, and light, greater than +the light of day, illumined the sky and fell upon all that hill-side. +The heavens opened, and angels, singing joyous songs, walked to the +earth. More wondrous still, the stars, falling from their places in +the sky, clustered upon the old olive-tree, and swung hither and +thither like colored lanterns. The flowers of the hill-side all +awakened, and they, too, danced and sang. The angels, coming hither, +hung gold and silver and jewels and precious stones upon the old +olive, where swung the stars; so that the glory of that sight, though +I might live forever, I shall never see again. When Dimas heard and +saw these things he fell upon his knees, and catching the hem of the +little Master's garment, he kissed it.</p> + +<p>"'Greater joy than this shall be thine, Dimas,' said the little +Master; 'but first must all things be fulfilled.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span></p> + +<p>"All through that Christmas night did the angels come and go with +their sweet anthems; all through that Christmas night did the stars +dance and sing; and when it came my time to steal away, the hill-side +was still beautiful with the glory and the music of heaven."</p> + +<p>"Well, is that all?" asked the old clock.</p> + +<p>"No," said the moonbeam; "but I am nearly done. The years went on. +Sometimes I tossed upon the ocean's bosom, sometimes I scampered o'er +a battle-field, sometimes I lay upon a dead child's face. I heard the +voices of Darkness and mothers' lullabies and sick men's prayers—and +so the years went on.</p> + +<p>"I fell one night upon a hard and furrowed face. It was of ghostly +pallor. A thief was dying on the cross, and this was his wretched +face. About the cross stood men with staves and swords and spears, but +none paid heed unto the thief. Somewhat beyond this cross another was +lifted up, and upon it was stretched a human body my light fell not +upon. But I heard a voice that somewhere I had heard before,—though +where I did not know,—and this voice blessed those that railed and +jeered and shamefully entreated. And suddenly the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> voice called +'Dimas, Dimas!' and the thief upon whose hardened face I rested made +answer.</p> + +<p>"Then I saw that it was Dimas; yet to this wicked criminal there +remained but little of the shepherd child whom I had seen in all his +innocence upon the hill-side. Long years of sinful life had seared +their marks into his face; yet now, at the sound of that familiar +voice, somewhat of the old-time boyish look came back, and in the +yearning of the anguished eyes I seemed to see the shepherd's son +again.</p> + +<p>"'The Master!' cried Dimas, and he stretched forth his neck that he +might see him that spake.</p> + +<p>"'O Dimas, how art thou changed!' cried the Master, yet there was in +his voice no tone of rebuke save that which cometh of love.</p> + +<p>"Then Dimas wept, and in that hour he forgot his pain. And the +Master's consoling voice and the Master's presence there wrought in +the dying criminal such a new spirit, that when at last his head fell +upon his bosom, and the men about the cross said that he was dead, it +seemed as if I shined not upon a felon's face, but upon the face of +the gentle shepherd lad, the son of Benoni.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And shining on that dead and peaceful face, I bethought me of the +little Master's words that he had spoken under the old olive-tree upon +the hill-side: 'Your eyes behold the promised glory now, O Dimas,' I +whispered, 'for with the Master you walk in Paradise.'"</p> + +<hr style="width:45%; " /> + +<p>Ah, little Dear-my-Soul, you know—you know whereof the moonbeam +spake. The shepherd's bones are dust, the flocks are scattered, the +old olive-tree is gone, the flowers of the hill-side are withered, and +none knoweth where the grave of Dimas is made. But last night, again, +there shined a star over Bethlehem, and the angels descended from the +sky to earth, and the stars sang together in glory. And the +bells,—hear them, little Dear-my-Soul, how sweetly they are +ringing,—the bells bear us the good tidings of great joy this +Christmas morning, that our Christ is born, and that with him he +bringeth peace on earth and good-will toward men.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span></p> +<p class="center"><img src="images/image_33.jpg" alt="Decorative Image" width="600" height="356" /></p> +<h2><a name="CHRISTMAS_MORNING" id="CHRISTMAS_MORNING"></a>CHRISTMAS MORNING</h2> + + + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The angel host that sped last night,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Bearing the wondrous news afar,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Came in their ever-glorious flight<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Unto a slumbering little star.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Awake and sing, O star!" they cried.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Awake and glorify the morn!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Herald the tidings far and wide—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">He that shall lead His flock is born!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The little star awoke and sung<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As only stars in rapture may,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And presently where church bells hung<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The joyous tidings found their way.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span></div></div> + +<p class="center"><a name="img_09" id="img_09"></a><img src="images/image_34.jpg" alt="Share thou this holy time with me, The universal hymn of love" width="400" height="598" class="img2" /></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i11"><b>Share thou this holy time with me,<br /> +</b></span> +<b><span class="i12">The universal hymn of love.</span></b><span class="i12"><br /> +</span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Awake, O bells! 'tis Christmas morn—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Awake and let thy music tell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To all mankind that now is born<br /></span> +<span class="i1">What Shepherd loves His lambkins well!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then rang the bells as fled the night<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O'er dreaming land and drowsing deep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And coming with the morning light,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">They called, my child, to you asleep.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sweetly and tenderly they spoke,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And lingering round your little bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their music pleaded till you woke,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And this is what their music said:<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Awake and sing! 't is Christmas morn,<br /> +</span> +<span class="i1">Whereon all earth salutes her King!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Bethlehem is the Shepherd born.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Awake, O little lamb, and sing!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So, dear my child, kneel at my feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And with those voices from above<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Share thou this holy time with me,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The universal hymn of love.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>December 25, 1890.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span></p> +<p class="center"><img src="images/image_35.jpg" alt="Decorative Image" width="600" height="470" /></p> +<h2><a name="MISTRESS_MERCILESS" id="MISTRESS_MERCILESS"></a>MISTRESS MERCILESS</h2> + + + + +<p>This is to tell of our little Mistress Merciless, who for a season +abided with us, but is now and forever gone from us unto the far-off +land of Ever-Plaisance. The tale is soon told; for it were not seemly +to speak all the things that are in one's heart when one hath to say +of a much-beloved child, whose life here hath been shortened so that, +in God's wisdom and kindness, her life shall be longer in that garden +that bloometh far away.</p> + +<p>You shall know that all did call her Mistress Merciless; but her +mercilessness was of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span> a sweet, persuasive kind: for with the beauty of +her face and the music of her voice and the exceeding sweetness of her +virtues was she wont to slay all hearts; and this she did unwittingly, +for she was a little child. And so it was in love that we did call her +Mistress Merciless, just as it was in love that she did lord it over +all our hearts.</p> + +<p>Upon a time walked she in a full fair garden, and there went with her +an handmaiden that we did call in merry wise the Queen of Sheba; for +this handmaiden was in sooth no queen at all, but a sorry and +ill-favored wench; but she was assotted upon our little Mistress +Merciless and served her diligently, and for that good reason was +vastly beholden of us all. Yet, in a jest, we called her the Queen of +Sheba; and I make a venture that she looked exceeding fair in the eyes +of our little Mistress Merciless: for the eyes of children look not +upon the faces but into the hearts and souls of others. Whilst these +two walked in the full fair garden at that time they came presently +unto an arbor wherein there was a rustic seat, which was called the +Siege of Restfulness; and hereupon sate a little sick boy that, from +his birth, had been lame,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> so that he could not play and make merry +with other children, but was wont to come every day into this full +fair garden and content himself with the companionship of the flowers. +And, though he was a little lame boy, he never trod upon those +flowers; and even had he done so, methinks the pressure of those +crippled feet had been a caress, for the little lame boy was filled +with the spirit of love and tenderness. As the tiniest, whitest, +shrinking flower exhaleth the most precious perfume, so in and from +this little lame boy's life there came a grace that was hallowing in +its beauty.</p> + +<p>Since they never before had seen him, they asked him his name; and he +answered them that of those at home he was called Master Sweetheart, a +name he could not understand: for surely, being a cripple, he must be +a very sorry sweetheart; yet, that he was a sweetheart unto his mother +at least he had no doubt, for she did love to hold him in her lap and +call him by that name; and many times when she did so he saw that +tears were in her eyes,—a proof, she told him when he asked, that +Master Sweetheart was her sweetheart before all others upon earth.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span></p> + +<p>It befell that our little Mistress Merciless and Master Sweetheart +became fast friends, and the Queen of Sheba was handmaiden to them +both; for the simple, loyal creature had not a mind above the artless +prattle of childhood, and the strange allegory of the lame boy's +speech filled her with awe, even as the innocent lisping of our little +Mistress Merciless delighted her heart and came within the +comprehension of her limited understanding. So each day, when it was +fair, these three came into the full fair garden, and rambled there +together; and when they were weary they entered into the arbor and +sate together upon the Siege of Restfulness. Wit ye well there was not +a flower or a tree or a shrub or a bird in all that full fair garden +which they did not know and love, and in very sooth every flower and +tree and shrub and bird therein did know and love them.</p> + +<p>When they entered into the arbor, and sate together upon the Siege of +Restfulness, it was Master Sweetheart's wont to tell them of the land +of Ever-Plaisance, for it was a conceit of his that he journeyed each +day nearer and nearer to that land, and that his journey thitherward +was nearly done. How came he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span> to know of that land I cannot say, for I +do not know; but I am fain to believe that, as he said, the exceeding +fair angels told him thereof when by night, as he lay sleeping, they +came singing and with caresses to his bedside.</p> + +<p>I speak now of a holy thing, therefore I speak truth when I say that +while little children lie sleeping in their beds at night it pleaseth +God to send His exceeding fair angels with singing and caresses to +bear messages of His love unto those little sleeping children. And I +have seen those exceeding fair angels bend with folded wings over the +little cradles and the little beds, and kiss those little sleeping +children and whisper God's messages of love to them, and I knew that +those messages were full of sweet tidings; for, even though they +slept, the little children smiled. This have I seen, and there is none +who loveth little children that will deny the truth of this thing +which I have now solemnly declared.</p> + +<p class="center"><a name="img_10" id="img_10"></a><img src="images/image_36.jpg" alt="The strange allegory of the lame boy's speech filled her with awe" width="400" height="603" class="img1" /><span class="caption"><br /> + The strange allegory of the lame boy's speech filled<br /> +her with awe.</span></p> + +<p>Of that land of Ever-Plaisance was our little Mistress Merciless ever +fain to hear tell. But when she beset the rest of us to speak thereof +we knew not what to say other than to confirm such reports as Master +Sweetheart <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span>had already made. For when it cometh to knowing of that +far-off land,—ah me, who knoweth more than the veriest little child? +And oftentimes within the bosom of a little, helpless, fading one +there bloometh a wisdom which sages cannot comprehend. So when she +asked us we were wont to bid her go to Master Sweetheart, for he knew +the truth and spake it.</p> + +<p>It is now to tell of an adventure which on a time befell in that full +fair garden of which you have heard me speak. In this garden lived +many birds of surpassing beauty and most rapturous song, and among +them was one that they called Joyous, for that he did ever carol forth +so joyously, it mattered not what the day soever might be. This bird +Joyous had his home in the top of an exceeding high tree, hard by the +pleasant arbor, and here did he use to sit at such times as the little +people came into that arbor, and then would he sing to them such songs +as befitted that quiet spot, and them that came thereto. But there was +a full evil cat that dwelt near by, and this cruel beast found no +pleasure in the music that Joyous did make continually; nay, that +music filled this full evil cat with a wicked thirst for the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span> blood of +that singing innocent, and she had no peace for the malice that was +within her seeking to devise a means whereby she might comprehend the +bird Joyous to her murderous intent. Now you must know that it was the +wont of our little Mistress Merciless and of Master Sweetheart to feed +the birds in that fair garden with such crumbs as they were suffered +to bring with them into the arbor, and at such times would those birds +fly down with grateful twitterings and eat of those crumbs upon the +greensward round about the arbor. Wit ye well, it was a merry sight to +see those twittering birds making feast upon the good things which +those children brought, and our little Mistress Merciless and little +Master Sweetheart had sweet satisfaction therein. But, on a day, +whilst thus those twittering birds made great feasting, lo! on a +sudden did that full evil cat whereof I have spoken steal softly from +a thicket, and with one hideous bound make her way into the very midst +of those birds and seize upon that bird Joyous, that was wont to sing +so merrily from the tree hard by the arbor. Oh, there was a mighty din +and a fearful fluttering, and the rest flew swiftly away, but Joyous +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span>could not do so, because the full evil cat held him in her cruel +fangs and claws. And I make no doubt that Joyous would speedily have +met his death, but that with a wrathful cry did our little Mistress +Merciless hasten to his rescue. And our little Mistress belabored that +full evil cat with Master Sweetheart's crutch, until that cruel beast +let loose her hold upon the fluttering bird and was full glad to +escape with her aching bones into the thicket again. So it was that +Joyous was recovered from death; but even then might it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span> have fared +ill with him, had they not taken him up and dressed his wounds and +cared for him until duly he was well again. And then they released him +to do his plaisance, and he returned to his home in the tree hard by +the arbor and there he sung unto those children more sweetly than ever +before; for his heart was full of gratitude to our little Mistress +Merciless and Master Sweetheart.</p> + +<p class="center"><img src="images/image_37.jpg" alt="Decorative Image" width="500" height="359" /></p> + +<p>Now, of the dolls that she had in goodly number, that one which was +named Beautiful did our little Mistress Merciless love best. Know well +that the doll Beautiful had come not from oversea, and was neither of +wax nor of china; but she was right ingeniously constructed of a +bed-key that was made of wood, and unto the top of this bed-key had +the Queen of Sheba superadded a head with a fair face, and upon the +body and the arms of the key had she hung passing noble raiment. Unto +this doll Beautiful was our little Mistress Merciless vastly beholden, +and she did use to have the doll Beautiful lie by her side at night +whilst she slept, and whithersoever during the day she went, there +also would she take the doll Beautiful, too. Much sorrow and +lamentation,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span> therefore, made our little Mistress Merciless when on an +evil day the doll Beautiful by chance fell into the fish-pond, and was +not rescued therefrom until one of her beauteous eyes had been +devoured of the envious water; so that ever thereafter the doll +Beautiful had but one eye, and that, forsooth, was grievously faded. +And on another evil day came a monster ribald dog pup and seized upon +the doll Beautiful whilst she reposed in the arbor, and bore her away, +and romped boisterously with her upon the sward, and tore off her +black-thread hair, and sought to destroy her wholly, which surely he +would have done but for the Queen of Sheba, who made haste to rescue +the doll Beautiful, and chastise that monster ribald dog pup.</p> + +<p>Therefore, as you can understand, the time was right busily spent. The +full fair garden, with its flowers and the singing birds and the +gracious arbor and the Siege of Restfulness, found favor with those +children, and amid these joyous scenes did Master Sweetheart have to +tell each day of that far-off land of Ever-Plaisance, whither he said +he was going. And one day, when the sun shone very bright, and the +full fair garden joyed in the music of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span> those birds, Master Sweetheart +did not come, and they missed the little lame boy and wondered where +he was. And as he never came again they thought at last that of a +surety he had departed into that country whereof he loved to tell. +Which thing filled our little Mistress Merciless with wonder and +inquiry; and I think she was lonely ever after that,—lonely for +Master Sweetheart.</p> + +<p>I am thinking now of her and of him; for this is the Christmas +season,—the time when it is most meet to think of the children and +other sweet and holy things. There is snow everywhere, snow and cold. +The garden is desolate and voiceless: the flowers are gone, the trees +are ghosts, the birds have departed. It is winter out there, and it is +winter, too, in this heart of mine. Yet in this Christmas season I +think of them, and it pleaseth me—God forbid that I offend with much +speaking—it pleaseth me to tell of the little things they did and +loved. And you shall understand it all if, perchance, this sacred +Christmas time a little Mistress Merciless of your own, or a little +Master Sweetheart, clingeth to your knee and sanctifieth your +hearth-stone.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span></p> + +<p>When of an evening all the joy of day was done, would our little +Mistress Merciless fall aweary; and then her eyelids would grow +exceeding heavy and her little tired hands were fain to fold. At such +a time it was my wont to beguile her weariness with little tales of +faery, or with the gentle play that sleepy children like. Much was her +fancy taken with what I told her of the train that every night +whirleth away to Shut-Eye Town, bearing unto that beauteous country +sleepy little girls and boys. Nor would she be content until I told +her thereof,—yes, every night whilst I robed her in her cap and gown +would she demand of me that tale of Shut-Eye Town, and the wonderful +train that was to bear her thither. Then would I say in this wise:</p> + +<p>At Bedtime-ville there is a train of cars that waiteth for you, my +sweet,—for you and for other little ones that would go to quiet, +slumbrous Shut-Eye Town.</p> + +<p>But make no haste; there is room for all. Each hath a tiny car that is +snug and warm, and when the train starteth each car swingeth +soothingly this way and that way, this way and that way, through all +the journey of the night.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span></p> + +<p>Your little gown is white and soft; your little cap will hold those +pretty curls so fast that they cannot get away. Here is a curl that +peepeth out to see what is going to happen. Hush, little curl! make no +noise; we will let you peep out at the wonderful sights, but you must +not tell the others about it; let them sleep, snuggled close together.</p> + +<p>The locomotive is ready to start. Can you not hear it?</p> + +<p>"Shug-chug! Shug-chug! Shug-chug!" That is what the locomotive is +saying, all to itself. It knoweth how pleasant a journey it is about +to make.</p> + +<p>"Shug-chug! Shug-chug! Shug-chug!"</p> + +<p>Oh, many a time hath it proudly swept over prairie and hill, over +river and plain, through sleeping gardens and drowsy cities, swiftly +and quietly, bearing the little ones to the far, pleasant valley where +lieth Shut-Eye Town.</p> + +<p>"Shug-chug! Shug-chug! Shug-chug!"</p> + +<p>So sayeth the locomotive to itself at the station in Bedtime-ville; +for it knoweth how fair and far a journey is before it.</p> + +<p>Then a bell soundeth. Surely my little one heareth the bell!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Ting-long! Ting-a-long! Ting-long!"</p> + +<p>So soundeth the bell, and it seemeth to invite you to sleep and +dreams.</p> + +<p>"Ting-long! Ting-a-long! Ting-long!"</p> + +<p>How sweetly ringeth and calleth that bell.</p> + +<p>"To sleep—to dreams, O little lambs!" it seemeth to call. "Nestle +down close, fold your hands, and shut your dear eyes! We are off and +away to Shut-Eye Town! Ting-long! Ting-a-long! Ting-long! To sleep—to +dreams, O little cosset lambs!"</p> + +<p>And now the conductor calleth out in turn. "All aboard!" he calleth. +"All aboard for Shut-Eye Town!" he calleth in a kindly tone.</p> + +<p>But, hark ye, dear-my-soul, make thou no haste; there is room for all. +Here is a cosey little car for you. How like your cradle it is, for it +is snug and warm, and it rocketh this way and that way, this way and +that way, all night long, and its pillows caress you tenderly. So step +into the pretty nest, and in it speed to Shut-Eye Town.</p> + +<p>"Toot! Toot!"</p> + +<p>That is the whistle. It soundeth twice, but it must sound again before +the train can<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span> start. Now you have nestled down, and your dear hands +are folded; let your two eyes be folded, too, my sweet; for in a +moment you shall be rocked away, and away, away into the golden mists +of Balow!</p> + +<p>"Ting-long! Ting-a-long! Ting-long!"</p> + +<p>"All aboard!"</p> + +<p>"Toot! Toot! Toot!"</p> + +<p>And so my little golden apple is off and away for Shut-Eye Town!</p> + +<p>Slowly moveth the train, yet faster by degrees. Your hands are folded, +my beloved, and your dear eyes they are closed; and yet you see the +beauteous sights that skirt the journey through the mists of Balow. +And it is rockaway, rockaway, rockaway, that your speeding cradle +goes,—rockaway, rockaway, rockaway, through the golden glories that +lie in the path that leadeth to Shut-Eye Town.</p> + +<p>"Toot! Toot!"</p> + +<p>So crieth the whistle, and it is "down-brakes," for here we are at +Ginkville, and every little one knoweth that pleasant waking-place, +where mother with her gentle hands holdeth the gracious cup to her +sleepy darling's lips.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span></p> +<p class="center"><a name="img_11" id="img_11"></a><img src="images/image_38.jpg" alt=""Nestle down close, fold your hands, and shut your dear eyes!"" width="400" height="595" class="img2" /><span class="caption"><br /> + "Nestle down close, fold your hands, and shut <br />your dear +eyes!"</span></p> + +<p>"Ting-long! Ting-a-long! Ting-long!" and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span>off is the train again. And +swifter and swifter it speedeth,—oh, I am sure no other train +speedeth half so swiftly! The sights my dear one sees! I cannot tell +of them—one must see those beauteous sights to know how wonderful +they are!</p> + +<p>"Shug-chug! Shug-chug! Shug-chug!"</p> + +<p>On and on and on the locomotive proudly whirleth the train.</p> + +<p>"Ting-long! Ting-a-long! Ting-long!"</p> + +<p>The bell calleth anon, but fainter and evermore fainter; and fainter +and fainter groweth that other calling—"Toot! Toot! Toot!"—till +finally I know that in that Shut-Eye Town afar my dear one dreameth +the dreams of Balow.</p> + +<p>This was the bedtime tale which I was wont to tell our little Mistress +Merciless, and at its end I looked upon her face to see it calm and +beautiful in sleep.</p> + +<p>Then was I wont to kneel beside her little bed and fold my two +hands,—thus,—and let my heart call to the host invisible: "O +guardian angels of this little child, hold her in thy keeping from all +the perils of darkness and the night! O sovereign Shepherd, cherish<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> +Thy little lamb and mine, and, Holy Mother, fold her to thy bosom and +thy love! But give her back to me,—when morning cometh, restore ye +unto me my little one!"</p> + +<p>But once she came not back. She had spoken much of Master Sweetheart +and of that land of Ever-Plaisance whither he had gone. And she was +not afeard to make the journey alone; so once upon a time when our +little Mistress Merciless bade us good-by, and went away forever, we +knew that it were better so; for she was lonely here, and without her +that far-distant country whither she journeyed were not content. +Though our hearts were like to break for love of her, we knew that it +were better so.</p> + +<p>The tale is told, for it were not seemly to speak all the things that +are in one's heart when one hath to say of a much-beloved child whose +life here hath been shortened so that, in God's wisdom and kindness, +her life shall be longer in that garden that bloometh far away.</p> + +<p>About me are scattered the toys she loved, and the doll Beautiful hath +come down all-battered and grim,—yet, oh! so very precious<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span> to me, +from those distant years; yonder fareth the Queen of Sheba in her +service as handmaiden unto me and mine,—gaunt and doleful-eyed, yet +stanch and sturdy as of old. The garden lieth under the Christmas +snow,—the garden where ghosts of trees wave their arms and moan over +the graves of flowers; the once gracious arbor is crippled now with +the infirmities of age, the Siege of Restfulness fast sinketh into +decay, and long, oh! long ago did that bird Joyous carol forth his +last sweet song in the garden that was once so passing fair.</p> + +<p>And amid it all,—this heartache and the loneliness which the years +have brought,—cometh my Christmas gift to-day: the solace of a vision +of that country whither she—our little Mistress Merciless—hath gone; +a glimpse of that far-off land of Ever-Plaisance.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span></p> +<p class="center"><img src="images/image_39.jpg" alt="Decorative Image" width="600" height="306" /></p> +<h2><a name="BETHLEHEM-TOWN" id="BETHLEHEM-TOWN"></a>BETHLEHEM-TOWN</h2> + + + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As I was going to Bethlehem-town,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon the earth I cast me down<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All underneath a little tree<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That whispered in this wise to me:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Oh, I shall stand on Calvary<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bear what burthen saveth thee!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As up I fared to Bethlehem-town,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I met a shepherd coming down,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thus he quoth: "A wondrous sight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hath spread before mine eyes this night,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An angel host most fair to see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That sung full sweetly of a tree<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That shall uplift on Calvary<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What burthen saveth you and me!"<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And as I gat to Bethlehem-town,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo! wise men came that bore a crown.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Is there," cried I, "in Bethlehem<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A King shall wear this diadem?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Good sooth," they quoth, "and it is He<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That shall be lifted on the tree<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And freely shed on Calvary<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What blood redeemeth us and thee!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Unto a Child in Bethlehem-town<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wise men came and brought the crown;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And while the infant smiling slept,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon their knees they fell and wept;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, with her babe upon her knee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Naught recked that Mother of the tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That should uplift on Calvary<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What burthen saveth all and me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Again I walk in Bethlehem-town<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And think on Him that wears the crown.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I may not kiss His feet again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor worship Him as did I then;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My King hath died upon the tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hath outpoured on Calvary<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What blood redeemeth you and me!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><a name="img_12" id="img_12"></a><img src="images/image_40.jpg" alt="But, with her babe upon her knee, Naught recked that Mother of the tree" width="400" height="586" class="img1" /></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i11"><b>But, with her babe upon her knee,<br /> +</b></span> +<b><span class="i11">Naught recked that Mother of the tree.</span></b><span class="i11"><br /> +</span> +</div></div> + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span></p> +<p class="center"><img src="images/image_41.jpg" alt="Decorative Image" width="600" height="398" /></p> +<h2><a name="THE_FIRST_CHRISTMAS_TREE" id="THE_FIRST_CHRISTMAS_TREE"></a>THE FIRST CHRISTMAS TREE</h2> + + + + +<p>Once upon a time the forest was in a great commotion. Early in the +evening the wise old cedars had shaken their heads ominously and +predicted strange things. They had lived in the forest many, many +years; but never had they seen such marvellous sights as were to be +seen now in the sky, and upon the hills, and in the distant village.</p> + +<p>"Pray tell us what you see," pleaded a little vine; "we who are not as +tall as you can behold none of these wonderful things. Describe them +to us, that we may enjoy them with you."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I am filled with such amazement," said one of the cedars, "that I can +hardly speak. The whole sky seems to be aflame, and the stars appear +to be dancing among the clouds; angels walk down from heaven to the +earth, and enter the village or talk with the shepherds upon the +hills."</p> + +<p>The vine listened in mute astonishment. Such things never before had +happened. The vine trembled with excitement. Its nearest neighbor was +a tiny tree, so small it scarcely ever was noticed; yet it was a very +beautiful little tree, and the vines and ferns and mosses and other +humble residents of the forest loved it dearly.</p> + +<p>"How I should like to see the angels!" sighed the little tree, "and +how I should like to see the stars dancing among the clouds! It must +be very beautiful."</p> + +<p>As the vine and the little tree talked of these things, the cedars +watched with increasing interest the wonderful scenes over and beyond +the confines of the forest. Presently they thought they heard music, +and they were not mistaken, for soon the whole air was full of the +sweetest harmonies ever heard upon earth.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What beautiful music!" cried the little tree. "I wonder whence it +comes."</p> + +<p>"The angels are singing," said a cedar; "for none but angels could +make such sweet music."</p> + +<p>"But the stars are singing, too," said another cedar; "yes, and the +shepherds on the hills join in the song, and what a strangely glorious +song it is!"</p> + +<p>The trees listened to the singing, but they did not understand its +meaning: it seemed to be an anthem, and it was of a Child that had +been born; but further than this they did not understand. The strange +and glorious song continued all the night; and all that night the +angels walked to and fro, and the shepherd-folk talked with the +angels, and the stars danced and carolled in high heaven. And it was +nearly morning when the cedars cried out, "They are coming to the +forest! the angels are coming to the forest!" And, surely enough, this +was true. The vine and the little tree were very terrified, and they +begged their older and stronger neighbors to protect them from harm. +But the cedars were too busy with their own fears to pay any heed to +the faint pleadings<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> of the humble vine and the little tree. The +angels came into the forest, singing the same glorious anthem about +the Child, and the stars sang in chorus with them, until every part of +the woods rang with echoes of that wondrous song. There was nothing in +the appearance of this angel host to inspire fear; they were clad all +in white, and there were crowns upon their fair heads, and golden +harps in their hands; love, hope, charity, compassion, and joy beamed +from their beautiful faces, and their presence seemed to fill the +forest with a divine peace. The angels came through the forest to +where the little tree stood, and gathering around it, they touched it +with their hands, and kissed its little branches, and sang even more +sweetly than before. And their song was about the Child, the Child, +the Child that had been born. Then the stars came down from the skies +and danced and hung upon the branches of the tree, and they, too, sang +that song,—the song of the Child. And all the other trees and the +vines and the ferns and the mosses beheld in wonder; nor could they +understand why all these things were being done, and why this +exceeding honor should be shown the little tree.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span></p> + +<p>When the morning came the angels left the forest,—all but one angel, +who remained behind and lingered near the little tree. Then a cedar +asked: "Why do you tarry with us, holy angel?" And the angel answered: +"I stay to guard this little tree, for it is sacred, and no harm shall +come to it."</p> + +<p class="center"><img src="images/image_42.jpg" alt="Decorative Image" width="600" height="442" /></p> + +<p>The little tree felt quite relieved by this assurance, and it held up +its head more confidently than ever before. And how it thrived and +grew, and waxed in strength and beauty! The cedars said they never had +seen the like.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span> The sun seemed to lavish its choicest rays upon the +little tree, heaven dropped its sweetest dew upon it, and the winds +never came to the forest that they did not forget their rude manners +and linger to kiss the little tree and sing it their prettiest songs. +No danger ever menaced it, no harm threatened; for the angel never +slept,—through the day and through the night the angel watched the +little tree and protected it from all evil. Oftentimes the trees +talked with the angel; but of course they understood little of what he +said, for he spoke always of the Child who was to become the Master; +and always when thus he talked, he caressed the little tree, and +stroked its branches and leaves, and moistened them with his tears. It +all was so very strange that none in the forest could understand.</p> + +<p>So the years passed, the angel watching his blooming charge. Sometimes +the beasts strayed toward the little tree and threatened to devour its +tender foliage; sometimes the woodman came with his axe, intent upon +hewing down the straight and comely thing; sometimes the hot, +consuming breath of drought swept from the south, and sought to blight +the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span> forest and all its verdure: the angel kept them from the little +tree. Serene and beautiful it grew, until now it was no longer a +little tree, but the pride and glory of the forest.</p> + +<p>One day the tree heard some one coming through the forest. Hitherto +the angel had hastened to its side when men approached; but now the +angel strode away and stood under the cedars yonder.</p> + +<p>"Dear angel," cried the tree, "can you not hear the footsteps of some +one approaching? Why do you leave me?"</p> + +<p>"Have no fear," said the angel; "for He who comes is the Master."</p> + +<p>The Master came to the tree and beheld it. He placed His hands upon +its smooth trunk and branches, and the tree was thrilled with a +strange and glorious delight. Then He stooped and kissed the tree, and +then He turned and went away.</p> + +<p>Many times after that the Master came to the forest, and when He came +it always was to where the tree stood. Many times He rested beneath +the tree and enjoyed the shade of its foliage, and listened to the +music of the wind as it swept through the rustling leaves. Many<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span> times +He slept there, and the tree watched over Him, and the forest was +still, and all its voices were hushed. And the angel hovered near like +a faithful sentinel.</p> + +<p>Ever and anon men came with the Master to the forest, and sat with Him +in the shade of the tree, and talked with Him of matters which the +tree never could understand; only it heard that the talk was of love +and charity and gentleness, and it saw that the Master was beloved and +venerated by the others. It heard them tell of the Master's goodness +and humility,—how He had healed the sick and raised the dead and +bestowed inestimable blessings wherever He walked. And the tree loved +the Master for His beauty and His goodness; and when He came to the +forest it was full of joy, but when He came not it was sad. And the +other trees of the forest joined in its happiness and its sorrow, for +they, too, loved the Master. And the angel always hovered near.</p> + +<p>The Master came one night alone into the forest, and His face was pale +with anguish and wet with tears, and He fell upon His knees and +prayed. The tree heard Him, and all the forest was still, as if it +were standing in the presence of death. And when the morning came, +lo! the angel had gone.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center"><a name="img_13" id="img_13"></a><img src="images/image_43.jpg" alt=""They are killing me!" cried the tree" width="400" height="588" class="img2" /><span class="caption"><br /> +"They are killing me!" cried the tree.</span></p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span></p> +<p>Then there was a great confusion in the forest. There was a sound of +rude voices, and a clashing of swords and staves. Strange men +appeared, uttering loud oaths and cruel threats, and the tree was +filled with terror. It called aloud for the angel, but the angel came +not.</p> + +<p>"Alas," cried the vine, "they have come to destroy the tree, the pride +and glory of the forest!"</p> + +<p>The forest was sorely agitated, but it was in vain. The strange men +plied their axes with cruel vigor, and the tree was hewn to the +ground. Its beautiful branches were cut away and cast aside, and its +soft, thick foliage was strewn to the tenderer mercies of the winds.</p> + +<p>"They are killing me!" cried the tree; "why is not the angel here to +protect me?"</p> + +<p>But no one heard the piteous cry,—none but the other trees of the +forest; and they wept, and the little vine wept too.</p> + +<p>Then the cruel men dragged the despoiled and hewn tree from the +forest, and the forest saw that beauteous thing no more.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span></p> + +<p>But the night wind that swept down from the City of the Great King +that night to ruffle the bosom of distant Galilee, tarried in the +forest awhile to say that it had seen that day a cross upraised on +Calvary,—the tree on which was stretched the body of the dying +Master.</p> + +<p class="center"><img src="images/image_44.jpg" alt="Decorative Image" width="200" height="236" /></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span></p> +<p class="center"><img src="images/image_45.jpg" alt="Decorative Image" width="500" height="621" /></p> +<h2><a name="STAR_OF_THE_EAST" id="STAR_OF_THE_EAST"></a>STAR OF THE EAST</h2> + + + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Star of the East, that long ago<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Brought wise men on their way<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where, angels singing to and fro,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Child of Bethlehem lay—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Above that Syrian hill afar<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou shinest out to-night, O Star!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><a name="img_14" id="img_14"></a><img src="images/image_46.jpg" alt="To seek that manger out and lay Our gifts before the child— To bring our hearts and offer them Unto our King in Bethlehem!" width="400" height="593" class="img1" /></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i11"><b>To seek that manger out and lay<br /> +</b></span> +<b><span class="i12">Our gifts before the child—<br /> +</span> +<span class="i11">To bring our hearts and offer them<br /> +</span> +<span class="i11">Unto our King in Bethlehem!</span></b><span class="i11"><br /> +</span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Star of the East, the night were drear<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But for the tender grace<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That with thy glory comes to cheer<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Earth's loneliest, darkest place;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For by that charity we see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where there is hope for all and me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Star of the East! show us the way<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In wisdom undefiled<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To seek that manger out and lay<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Our gifts before the child—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To bring our hearts and offer them<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unto our King in Bethlehem!<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> </p> + +<p class="center"><img src="images/image_47.jpg" alt="Decorative Image" width="350" height="217" /></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p class="center"><img src="images/image_04.jpg" alt="Decorative Image" width="200" height="164" /></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Christmas Tales and Christmas Verse, by +Eugene Field + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHRISTMAS TALES AND *** + +***** This file should be named 17630-h.htm or 17630-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/6/3/17630/ + +Produced by Jason Isbell, Sankar Viswanathan, and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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index 0000000..ccdce6a --- /dev/null +++ b/17630.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2820 @@ +Project Gutenberg's Christmas Tales and Christmas Verse, by Eugene Field + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Christmas Tales and Christmas Verse + +Author: Eugene Field + +Illustrator: Florence Storer + +Release Date: January 29, 2006 [EBook #17630] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHRISTMAS TALES AND *** + + + + +Produced by Jason Isbell, Sankar Viswanathan, and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + [Illustration: Frontispiece] + + + CHRISTMAS + TALES AND + CHRISTMAS + VERSE + + + + BY + + EUGENE FIELD + + + ILLUSTRATIONS BY FLORENCE STORER + + + NEW YORK + CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS + MCMXII + + + + Copyright, 1912, by + CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS + + Published October, 1912 + + + + + _Why do the bells of Christmas ring? + Why do little children sing? + + Once a lovely shining star, + Seen by shepherds from afar, + Gently moved until its light + Made a manger's cradle bright. + + There a darling baby lay, + Pillowed soft upon the hay; + And its mother sung and smiled: + "This is Christ, the holy Child!" + + Therefore bells for Christmas ring, + Therefore little children sing._ + + + + +CONTENTS + + + _Dedication_ + + _Christmas Hymn_ + +The Symbol and the Saint + + _Christmas Eve_ + +Joel's Talk with Santa Claus + + _The Three Kings of Cologne_ + +The Coming of the Prince + + _Chrystmasse of Olde_ + +The Mouse and the Moonbeam + + _Christmas Morning_ + +Mistress Merciless + + _Bethlehem-Town_ + +The First Christmas Tree + + _Star of the East_ + + +FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS + +IN COLORS + + +The angels came through the forest to where the little tree + stood, and gathering around it, they touched it with + their hands _Frontispiece_ + +For he was so generous that he gave away all these pretty + things as fast as he made them + +So Barbara fell asleep + +"But why shouldn't I be merry?" asked the little mauve + mouse. "To-morrow is Christmas, and this is Christmas + eve" + +"'What sound was that?' cried Dimas, for he was exceeding + fearful" + +The strange allegory of the lame boy's speech filled her with + awe + +But, with her babe upon her knee, +Naught recked that Mother of the tree + +To seek that manger out and lay + Our gifts before the child-- +To bring our hearts and offer them +Unto our King in Bethlehem! + + +IN BLACK-AND-WHITE + + + Sing, O my heart! +Sing thou in rapture this dear morn +Whereon the blessed Prince is born! + +Oh, hush thee, little Dear-my-Soul, + And close thine eyes in dreaming + +"This must be the house where the prince will stop," + thought Barbara + +Share thou this holy time with me, + The universal hymn of love + +"Nestle down close, fold your hands, and shut your dear + eyes!" + +"They are killing me!" cried the tree + + + + + +CHRISTMAS +TALES AND +CHRISTMAS +VERSE + + + + +[Illustration: + + Sing, O my heart! + Sing thou in rapture this dear morn + Whereon the blessed Prince is born! +] + + +CHRISTMAS HYMN + + + Sing, Christmas bells! + Say to the earth this is the morn + Whereon our Savior-King is born; + Sing to all men,--the bond, the free, + The rich, the poor, the high, the low, + The little child that sports in glee, + The aged folk that tottering go,-- + Proclaim the morn + That Christ is born, + That saveth them and saveth me! + + Sing, angel host! + Sing of the star that God has placed + Above the manger in the East; + Sing of the glories of the night, + The virgin's sweet humility, + The Babe with kingly robes bedight,-- + Sing to all men where'er they be + This Christmas morn; + For Christ is born, + That saveth them and saveth me! + + Sing, sons of earth! + O ransomed seed of Adam, sing! + God liveth, and we have a king! + The curse is gone, the bond are free-- + By Bethlehem's star that brightly beamed, + By all the heavenly signs that be, + We know that Israel is redeemed; + That on this morn + The Christ is born + That saveth you and saveth me! + + Sing, O my heart! + Sing thou in rapture this dear morn + Whereon the blessed Prince is born! + And as thy songs shall be of love, + So let my deeds be charity + By the dear Lord that reigns above, + By Him that died upon the tree, + By this fair morn + Whereon is born + The Christ that saveth all and me! + + + + +THE SYMBOL AND THE SAINT + +Once upon a time a young man made ready for a voyage. His name was +Norss; broad were his shoulders, his cheeks were ruddy, his hair was +fair and long, his body betokened strength, and good-nature shone from +his blue eyes and lurked about the corners of his mouth. + +"Where are you going?" asked his neighbor Jans, the forge-master. + +"I am going sailing for a wife," said Norss. + +"For a wife, indeed!" cried Jans. "And why go you to seek her in +foreign lands? Are not our maidens good enough and fair enough, that +you must need search for a wife elsewhere? For shame, Norss! for +shame!" + +But Norss said: "A spirit came to me in my dreams last night and said, +'Launch the boat and set sail to-morrow. Have no fear; for I will +guide you to the bride that awaits you.' Then, standing there, all +white and beautiful, the spirit held forth a symbol--such as I had +never before seen--in the figure of a cross, and the spirit said: 'By +this symbol shall she be known to you.'" + +"If this be so, you must need go," said Jans. "But are you well +victualled? Come to my cabin, and let me give you venison and bear's +meat." + +Norss shook his head. "The spirit will provide," said he. "I have no +fear, and I shall take no care, trusting in the spirit." + +So Norss pushed his boat down the beach into the sea, and leaped into +the boat, and unfurled the sail to the wind. Jans stood wondering on +the beach, and watched the boat speed out of sight. + +On, on, many days on sailed Norss--so many leagues that he thought he +must have compassed the earth. In all this time he knew no hunger nor +thirst; it was as the spirit had told him in his dream--no cares nor +dangers beset him. By day the dolphins and the other creatures of the +sea gambolled about his boat; by night a beauteous Star seemed to +direct his course; and when he slept and dreamed, he saw ever the +spirit clad in white, and holding forth to him the symbol in the +similitude of a cross. + +At last he came to a strange country--a country so very different from +his own that he could scarcely trust his senses. Instead of the rugged +mountains of the North, he saw a gentle landscape of velvety green; +the trees were not pines and firs, but cypresses, cedars, and palms; +instead of the cold, crisp air of his native land, he scented the +perfumed zephyrs of the Orient; and the wind that filled the sail of +his boat and smote his tanned cheeks was heavy and hot with the odor +of cinnamon and spices. The waters were calm and blue--very different +from the white and angry waves of Norss's native fiord. + +As if guided by an unseen hand, the boat pointed straight for the +beach of this strangely beautiful land; and ere its prow cleaved the +shallower waters, Norss saw a maiden standing on the shore, shading +her eyes with her right hand, and gazing intently at him. She was the +most beautiful maiden he had ever looked upon. As Norss was fair, so +was this maiden dark; her black hair fell loosely about her shoulders +in charming contrast with the white raiment in which her slender, +graceful form was clad. Around her neck she wore a golden chain, and +therefrom was suspended a small symbol, which Norss did not +immediately recognize. + +"Hast thou come sailing out of the North into the East?" asked the +maiden. + +"Yes," said Norss. + +"And thou art Norss?" she asked. + +"I am Norss; and I come seeking my bride," he answered. + +"I am she," said the maiden. "My name is Faia. An angel came to me in +my dreams last night, and the angel said: 'Stand upon the beach +to-day, and Norss shall come out of the North to bear thee home a +bride.' So, coming here, I found thee sailing to our shore." + +Remembering then the spirit's words, Norss said: "What symbol have +you, Faia, that I may know how truly you have spoken?" + +"No symbol have I but this," said Faia, holding out the symbol that +was attached to the golden chain about her neck. Norss looked upon it, +and lo! it was the symbol of his dreams,--a tiny wooden cross. + +Then Norss clasped Faia in his arms and kissed her, and entering into +the boat they sailed away into the North. In all their voyage neither +care nor danger beset them; for as it had been told to them in their +dreams, so it came to pass. By day the dolphins and the other +creatures of the sea gambolled about them; by night the winds and the +waves sang them to sleep; and, strangely enough, the Star which before +had led Norss into the East, now shone bright and beautiful in the +Northern sky! + +When Norss and his bride reached their home, Jans, the forge-master, +and the other neighbors made great joy, and all said that Faia was +more beautiful than any other maiden in the land. So merry was Jans +that he built a huge fire in his forge, and the flames thereof filled +the whole Northern sky with rays of light that danced up, up, up to +the Star, singing glad songs the while. So Norss and Faia were wed, +and they went to live in the cabin in the fir grove. + +To these two was born in good time a son, whom they named Claus. On +the night that he was born wondrous things came to pass. To the cabin +in the fir grove came all the quaint, weird spirits,--the fairies, the +elves, the trolls, the pixies, the fadas, the crions, the goblins, the +kobolds, the moss-people, the gnomes, the dwarfs, the water-sprites, +the courils, the bogles, the brownies, the nixies, the trows, the +stille-volk,--all came to the cabin in the fir grove, and capered +about and sang the strange, beautiful songs of the Mist-Land. And the +flames of old Jans's forge leaped up higher than ever into the +Northern sky, carrying the joyous tidings to the Star, and full of +music was that happy night. + +Even in infancy Claus did marvellous things. With his baby hands he +wrought into pretty figures the willows that were given him to play +with. As he grew older, he fashioned, with the knife old Jans had made +for him, many curious toys,--carts, horses, dogs, lambs, houses, +trees, cats, and birds, all of wood and very like to nature. His +mother taught him how to make dolls too,--dolls of every kind, +condition, temper, and color; proud dolls, homely dolls, boy dolls, +lady dolls, wax dolls, rubber dolls, paper dolls, worsted dolls, rag +dolls,--dolls of every description and without end. So Claus became at +once quite as popular with the little girls as with the little boys of +his native village; for he was so generous that he gave away all these +pretty things as fast as he made them. + +Claus seemed to know by instinct every language. As he grew older he +would ramble off into the woods and talk with the trees, the rocks, +and the beasts of the greenwood; or he would sit on the cliffs +overlooking the fiord, and listen to the stories that the waves of the +sea loved to tell him; then, too, he knew the haunts of the elves and +the stille-volk, and many a pretty tale he learned from these little +people. When night came, old Jans told him the quaint legends of the +North, and his mother sang to him the lullabies she had heard when a +little child herself in the far-distant East. And every night his +mother held out to him the symbol in the similitude of the cross, and +bade him kiss it ere he went to sleep. + +So Claus grew to manhood, increasing each day in knowledge and in +wisdom. His works increased too; and his liberality dispensed +everywhere the beauteous things which his fancy conceived and his +skill executed. Jans, being now a very old man, and having no son of +his own, gave to Claus his forge and workshop, and taught him those +secret arts which he in youth had learned from cunning masters. Right +joyous now was Claus; and many, many times the Northern sky glowed +with the flames that danced singing from the forge while Claus moulded +his pretty toys. Every color of the rainbow were these flames; for +they reflected the bright colors of the beauteous things strewn round +that wonderful workshop. Just as of old he had dispensed to all +children alike the homelier toys of his youth, so now he gave to all +children alike these more beautiful and more curious gifts. So little +children everywhere loved Claus, because he gave them pretty toys, and +their parents loved him because he made their little ones so happy. + +[Illustration: For he was so generous that he gave away all these +pretty things as fast as he made them.] + +But now Norss and Faia were come to old age. After long years of love +and happiness, they knew that death could not be far distant. And one +day Faia said to Norss: "Neither you nor I, dear love, fear death; but +if we could choose, would we not choose to live always in this our son +Claus, who has been so sweet a joy to us?" + +"Ay, ay," said Norss; "but how is that possible?" + +"We shall see," said Faia. + +That night Norss dreamed that a spirit came to him, and that the +spirit said to him: "Norss, thou shalt surely live forever in thy son +Claus, if thou wilt but acknowledge the symbol." + +Then when the morning was come Norss told his dream to Faia, his wife; +and Faia said: + +"The same dream had I,--an angel appearing to me and speaking these +very words." + +"But what of the symbol?" cried Norss. + +"I have it here, about my neck," said Faia. + +So saying, Faia drew from her bosom the symbol of wood,--a tiny cross +suspended about her neck by the golden chain. And as she stood there +holding the symbol out to Norss, he--he thought of the time when first +he saw her on the far-distant Orient shore, standing beneath the Star +in all her maidenly glory, shading her beauteous eyes with one hand, +and with the other clasping the cross,--the holy talisman of her +faith. + +"Faia, Faia!" cried Norss, "it is the same,--the same you wore when I +fetched you a bride from the East!" + +"It is the same," said Faia, "yet see how my kisses and my prayers +have worn it away; for many, many times in these years, dear Norss, +have I pressed it to my lips and breathed your name upon it. See +now--see what a beauteous light its shadow makes upon your aged face!" + +The sunbeams, indeed, streaming through the window at that moment, +cast the shadow of the symbol on old Norss's brow. Norss felt a +glorious warmth suffuse him, his heart leaped with joy, and he +stretched out his arms and fell about Faia's neck, and kissed the +symbol and acknowledged it. Then likewise did Faia; and suddenly the +place was filled with a wondrous brightness and with strange music, +and never thereafter were Norss and Faia beholden of men. + +Until late that night Claus toiled at his forge; for it was a busy +season with him, and he had many, many curious and beauteous things to +make for the little children in the country round about. The colored +flames leaped singing from his forge, so that the Northern sky seemed +to be lighted by a thousand rainbows; but above all this voiceful +glory beamed the Star, bright, beautiful, serene. + +Coming late to the cabin in the fir grove, Claus wondered that no sign +of his father or of his mother was to be seen. "Father--mother!" he +cried, but he received no answer. Just then the Star cast its golden +gleam through the latticed window, and this strange, holy light fell +and rested upon the symbol of the cross that lay upon the floor. +Seeing it, Claus stooped and picked it up, and kissing it reverently, +he cried: "Dear talisman, be thou my inspiration evermore; and +wheresoever thy blessed influence is felt, there also let my works be +known henceforth forever!" + +No sooner had he said these words than Claus felt the gift of +immortality bestowed upon him; and in that moment, too, there came to +him a knowledge that his parents' prayer had been answered, and that +Norss and Faia would live in him through all time. + +And lo! to that place and in that hour came all the people of +Mist-Land and of Dream-Land to declare allegiance to him: yes, the +elves, the fairies, the pixies,--all came to Claus, prepared to do his +bidding. Joyously they capered about him, and merrily they sang. + +"Now haste ye all," cried Claus,--"haste ye all to your homes and +bring to my workshop the best ye have. Search, little hill-people, +deep in the bowels of the earth for finest gold and choicest jewels; +fetch me, O mermaids, from the bottom of the sea the treasures hidden +there,--the shells of rainbow tints, the smooth, bright pebbles, and +the strange ocean flowers; go, pixies, and other water-sprites, to +your secret lakes, and bring me pearls! Speed! speed you all! for +many pretty things have we to make for the little ones of earth we +love!" + +But to the kobolds and the brownies Claus said: "Fly to every house on +earth where the cross is known; loiter unseen in the corners, and +watch and hear the children through the day. Keep a strict account of +good and bad, and every night bring back to me the names of good and +bad that I may know them." + +The kobolds and the brownies laughed gleefully, and sped away on +noiseless wings; and so, too, did the other fairies and elves. + +There came also to Claus the beasts of the forest and the birds of the +air, and bade him be their master. And up danced the Four Winds, and +they said: "May we not serve you, too?" + +The Snow King came stealing along in his feathery chariot. "Oho!" he cried, +"I shall speed over all the world and tell them you are coming. In town and +country, on the mountain-tops and in the valleys,--wheresoever the cross is +raised,--there will I herald your approach, and thither will I strew you a +pathway of feathery white. Oho! oho!" So, singing softly, the Snow King +stole upon his way. + +But of all the beasts that begged to do him service, Claus liked the +reindeer best. "You shall go with me in my travels; for henceforth I +shall bear my treasures not only to the children of the North, but to +the children in every land whither the Star points me and where the +cross is lifted up!" So said Claus to the reindeer, and the reindeer +neighed joyously and stamped their hoofs impatiently, as though they +longed to start immediately. + +Oh, many, many times has Claus whirled away from his far Northern home +in his sledge drawn by the reindeer, and thousands upon thousands of +beautiful gifts--all of his own making--has he borne to the children +of every land; for he loves them all alike, and they all alike love +him, I trow. So truly do they love him that they call him Santa Claus, +and I am sure that he must be a saint; for he has lived these many +hundred years, and we, who know that he was born of Faith and Love, +believe that he will live forever. + +[Illustration: Oh, hush thee, little Dear-my-Soul, And close thine +eyes in dreaming.] + + + + +CHRISTMAS EVE + + + Oh, hush thee, little Dear-my-Soul, + The evening shades are falling,-- + Hush thee, my dear, dost thou not hear + The voice of the Master calling? + + Deep lies the snow upon the earth, + But all the sky is ringing + With joyous song, and all night long + The stars shall dance, with singing. + + Oh, hush thee, little Dear-my-Soul, + And close thine eyes in dreaming, + And angels fair shall lead thee where + The singing stars are beaming. + + A shepherd calls his little lambs, + And he longeth to caress them; + He bids them rest upon his breast, + That his tender love may bless them. + + So, hush thee, little Dear-my-Soul, + Whilst evening shades are falling, + And above the song of the heavenly throng + Thou shalt hear the Master calling. + + + + +JOEL'S TALK WITH SANTA CLAUS + + +One Christmas eve Joel Baker was in a most unhappy mood. He was +lonesome and miserable; the chimes making merry Christmas music +outside disturbed rather than soothed him, the jingle of the +sleigh-bells fretted him, and the shrill whistling of the wind around +the corners of the house and up and down the chimney seemed to grate +harshly on his ears. + +"Humph," said Joel, wearily, "Christmas is nothin' to me; there _was_ +a time when it meant a great deal, but that was long ago--fifty years +is a long stretch to look back over. There is nothin' in Christmas +now, nothin' for _me_ at least; it is so long since Santa Claus +remembered me that I venture to say he has forgotten that there ever +was such a person as Joel Baker in all the world. It used to be +different; Santa Claus _used_ to think a great deal of me when I was +a boy. Ah! Christmas nowadays ain't what it was in the good old +time--no, not what it used to be." + +As Joel was absorbed in his distressing thoughts he became aware very +suddenly that somebody was entering or trying to enter the room. First +came a draught of cold air, then a scraping, grating sound, then a +strange shuffling, and then,--yes, then, all at once, Joel saw a pair +of fat legs and a still fatter body dangle down the chimney, followed +presently by a long white beard, above which appeared a jolly red nose +and two bright twinkling eyes, while over the head and forehead was +drawn a fur cap, white with snowflakes. + +"Ha, ha," chuckled the fat, jolly stranger, emerging from the chimney +and standing well to one side of the hearth-stone; "ha, ha, they don't +have the big, wide chimneys they used to build, but they can't keep +Santa Claus out--no, they can't keep Santa Claus out! Ha, ha, ha. +Though the chimney were no bigger than a gas pipe, Santa Claus would +slide down it!" + +It didn't require a second glance to assure Joel that the new-comer +was indeed Santa Claus. Joel knew the good old saint--oh, yes--and he +had seen him once before, and, although that was when Joel was a +little boy, he had never forgotten how Santa Claus looked. + +Nor had Santa Claus forgotten Joel, although Joel thought he had; for +now Santa Claus looked kindly at Joel and smiled and said: "Merry +Christmas to you, Joel!" + +"Thank you, old Santa Claus," replied Joel, "but I don't believe it's +going to be a very merry Christmas. It's been so long since I've had a +merry Christmas that I don't believe I'd know how to act if I had +one." + +"Let's see," said Santa Claus, "it must be going on fifty years since +I saw you last--yes, you were eight years old the last time I slipped +down the chimney of the old homestead and filled your stocking. Do you +remember it?" + +"I remember it well," answered Joel. "I had made up my mind to lie +awake and see Santa Claus; I had heard tell of you, but I'd never seen +you, and Brother Otis and I concluded we'd lie awake and watch for you +to come." + +Santa Claus shook his head reproachfully. + +"That was very wrong," said he, "for I'm so scarey that if I'd known +you boys were awake I'd never have come down the chimney at all, and +then you'd have had no presents." + +"But Otis couldn't keep awake," explained Joel. "We talked about +everythin' we could think of, till father called out to us that if we +didn't stop talking he'd have to send one of us up into the attic to +sleep with the hired man. So in less than five minutes Otis was sound +asleep and no pinching could wake him up. But _I_ was bound to see +Santa Claus and I don't believe anything would've put me to sleep. I +heard the big clock in the sitting-room strike eleven, and I had begun +wonderin' if you never were going to come, when all of a sudden I +heard the tinkle of the bells around your reindeers' necks. Then I +heard the reindeers prancin' on the roof and the sound of your +sleigh-runners cuttin' through the crust and slippin' over the +shingles. I was kind o' scared and I covered my head up with the sheet +and quilts--only I left a little hole so I could peek out and see what +was goin' on. As soon as I saw you I got over bein' scared--for you +were jolly and smilin' like, and you chuckled as you went around to +each stockin' and filled it up." + +"Yes, I can remember the night," said Santa Claus. "I brought you a +sled, didn't I?" + +"Yes, and you brought Otis one, too," replied Joel. "Mine was red and +had 'Yankee Doodle' painted in black letters on the side; Otis's was +black and had 'Snow Queen' in gilt letters." + +"I remember those sleds distinctly," said Santa Claus, "for I made +them specially for you boys." + +"You set the sleds up against the wall," continued Joel, "and then you +filled the stockin's." + +"There were six of 'em, as I recollect?" said Santa Claus. + +"Let me see," queried Joel. "There was mine, and Otis's, and Elvira's, +and Thankful's, and Susan Prickett's--Susan was our help, you know. +No, there were only five, and, as I remember, they were the biggest we +could beg or borrer of Aunt Dorcas, who weighed nigh unto two hundred +pounds. Otis and I didn't like Susan Prickett, and we were hopin' +you'd put a cold potato in her stockin'." + +"But Susan was a good girl," remonstrated Santa Claus. "You know I put +cold potatoes only in the stockin's of boys and girls who are bad and +don't believe in Santa Claus." + +"At any rate," said Joel, "you filled all the stockin's with candy and +pop-corn and nuts and raisins, and I can remember you said you were +afraid you'd run out of pop-corn balls before you got around. Then you +left each of us a book. Elvira got the best one, which was 'The +Garland of Frien'ship,' and had poems in it about the bleeding of +hearts, and so forth. Father wasn't expectin' anything, but you left +him a new pair of mittens, and mother got a new fur boa to wear to +meetin'." + +"Of course," said Santa Claus, "I never forgot father and mother." + +"Well, it was as much as I could do to lay still," continued Joel, +"for I'd been longin' for a sled, an' the sight of that red sled with +'Yankee Doodle' painted on it jest made me wild. But, somehow or +other, I began to get powerful sleepy all at once, and I couldn't keep +my eyes open. The next thing I knew Otis was nudgin' me in the ribs. +'Git up, Joel,' says he; 'it's Chris'mas an' Santa Claus has been +here.' 'Merry Chris'mas! Merry Chris'mas!' we cried as we tumbled out +o' bed. Then Elvira an' Thankful came in, not more 'n half dressed, +and Susan came in, too, an' we just made Rome howl with 'Merry +Chris'mas! Merry Chris'mas!' to each other. 'Ef you children don't +make less noise in there,' cried father, 'I'll hev to send you all +back to bed.' The idea of askin' boys an' girls to keep quiet on +Chris'mas mornin' when they've got new sleds an' 'Garlands of +Frien'ship'!" + +Santa Claus chuckled; his rosy cheeks fairly beamed joy. + +"Otis an' I didn't want any breakfast," said Joel. "We made up our +minds that a stockin'ful of candy and pop-corn and raisins would stay +us for a while. I _do_ believe there wasn't buckwheat cakes enough in +the township to keep us indoors that mornin'; buckwheat cakes don't +size up much 'longside of a red sled with 'Yankee Doodle' painted onto +it and a black sled named 'Snow Queen.' _We_ didn't care how cold it +was--so much the better for slidin' downhill! All the boys had new +sleds--Lafe Dawson, Bill Holbrook, Gum Adams, Rube Playford, Leander +Merrick, Ezra Purple--all on 'em had new sleds excep' Martin Peavey, +and he said he calculated Santa Claus had skipped him this year 'cause +his father had broke his leg haulin' logs from the Pelham woods and +had been kep' indoors six weeks. But Martin had his ol' sled, and he +didn't hev to ask any odds of any of us, neither." + +"I brought Martin a sled the _next_ Christmas," said Santa Claus. + +"Like as not--but did you ever slide downhill, Santa Claus? I don't +mean such hills as they hev out here in this _new_ country, but one of +them old-fashioned New England hills that was made 'specially for boys +to slide down, full of bumpers an' thank-ye-marms, and about ten times +longer comin' up than it is goin' down! The wind blew in our faces and +almos' took our breath away. 'Merry Chris'mas to ye, little boys!' it +seemed to say, and it untied our mufflers an' whirled the snow in our +faces, jist as if it was a boy, too, an' wanted to play with us. An +ol' crow came flappin' over us from the cornfield beyond the meadow. +He said: 'Caw, caw,' when he saw my new sled--I s'pose he'd never seen +a red one before. Otis had a hard time with _his_ sled--the black +one--an' he wondered why it wouldn't go as fast as mine would. 'Hev +you scraped the paint off'n the runners?' asked Wralsey Goodnow. +'Course I hev,' said Otis; 'broke my own knife an' Lute Ingraham's +a-doin' it, but it don't seem to make no dif'rence--the darned ol' +thing won't go!' Then, what did Simon Buzzell say but that, like's +not, it was because Otis's sled's name was 'Snow Queen.' 'Never did +see a girl sled that was worth a cent, anyway,' sez Simon. Well, now, +that jest about broke Otis up in business. 'It ain't a girl sled,' sez +he, 'and its name ain't "Snow Queen"! I'm a-goin' to call it "Dan'l +Webster," or "Ol'ver Optic," or "Sheriff Robbins," or after some other +big man!' An' the boys plagued him so much about that pesky girl sled +that he scratched off the name, an', as I remember, it _did_ go better +after that! + +"About the only thing," continued Joel, "that marred the harmony of +the occasion, as the editor of the _Hampshire County Phoenix_ used to +say, was the ashes that Deacon Morris Frisbie sprinkled out in front +of his house. He said he wasn't going to have folks breakin' their +necks jest on account of a lot of frivolous boys that was goin' to the +gallows as fas' as they could! Oh, how we hated him! and we'd have +snowballed him, too, if we hadn't been afraid of the constable that +lived next door. But the ashes didn't bother us much, and every time +we slid side-saddle we'd give the ashes a kick, and that sort of +scattered 'em." + +The bare thought of this made Santa Claus laugh. + +"Goin' on about nine o'clock," said Joel, "the girls come +along--Sister Elvira an' Thankful, Prudence Tucker, Belle Yocum, +Sophrone Holbrook, Sis Hubbard, an' Marthy Sawyer. Marthy's brother +Increase wanted her to ride on _his_ sled, but Marthy allowed that a +red sled was her choice every time. 'I don't see how I'm goin' to +hold on,' said Marthy. 'Seems as if I would hev my hands full keepin' +my things from blowin' away.' 'Don't worry about yourself, Marthy,' +sez I, 'for if you'll look after your things, I kind o' calc'late I'll +manage not to lose _you_ on the way.' Dear Marthy--seems as if I could +see you now, with your tangled hair a-blowin' in the wind, your eyes +all bright and sparklin', an' your cheeks as red as apples. Seems, +too, as if I could hear you laughin' and callin', jist as you did as I +toiled up the old New England hill that Chris'mas mornin'--a-callin': +'Joel, Joel, Joel--ain't ye ever comin', Joel?' But the hill is long +and steep, Marthy, an' Joel ain't the boy he used to be; he's old, an' +gray, an' feeble, but there's love an' faith in his heart, an' they +kind o' keep him totterin' tow'rd the voice he hears a-callin': 'Joel, +Joel, Joel!'" + +"I know--I see it all," murmured Santa Claus very softly. + +"Oh, that was so long ago," sighed Joel; "so very long ago! And I've +had no Chris'mas since--only once, when our little one--Marthy's an' +mine--you remember him, Santa Claus?" + +"Yes," said Santa Claus, "a toddling little boy with blue eyes--" + +"Like his mother," interrupted Joel; "an' he _was_ like her, too--so +gentle an' lovin', only we called him Joel, for that was my father's +name and it kind o' run in the fam'ly. He wa'n't more'n three years +old when you came with your Chris'mas presents for him, Santa Claus. +We had told him about you, and he used to go to the chimney every +night and make a little prayer about what he wanted you to bring him. +And you brought 'em, too--a stick-horse, an' a picture-book, an' some +blocks, an' a drum--they're on the shelf in the closet there, and his +little Chris'mas stockin' with 'em--I've saved 'em all, an' I've taken +'em down an' held 'em in my hands, oh, so many times!" + +"But when I came again," said Santa Claus-- + +"His little bed was empty, an' I was alone. It killed his +mother--Marthy was so tender-hearted; she kind o' drooped an' pined +after that. So now they've been asleep side by side in the +buryin'-ground these thirty years. + +"That's why I'm so sad-like whenever Chris'mas comes," said Joel, +after a pause. "The thinkin' of long ago makes me bitter almost. It's +so different now from what it used to be." + +"No, Joel, oh, no," said Santa Claus. "'Tis the same world, and human +nature is the same and always will be. But Christmas is for the little +folks, and you, who are old and grizzled now, must know it and love it +only through the gladness it brings the little ones." + +"True," groaned Joel; "but how may I know and feel this gladness when +I have no little stocking hanging in my chimney corner--no child to +please me with his prattle? See, I am alone." + +"No, you're not alone, Joel," said Santa Claus. "There are children in +this great city who would love and bless you for your goodness if you +but touched their hearts. Make them happy, Joel; send by me this night +some gift to the little boy in the old house yonder--he is poor and +sick; a simple toy will fill his Christmas with gladness." + +"His little sister, too--take _her_ some presents," said Joel; "make +them happy for me, Santa Claus--you are right--make them happy for +me." + +How sweetly Joel slept! When he awoke, the sunlight streamed in +through the window and seemed to bid him a merry Christmas. How +contented and happy Joel felt! It must have been the talk with Santa +Claus that did it all; he had never known a sweeter sense of peace. A +little girl came out of the house over the way. She had a new doll in +her arms, and she sang a merry little song and she laughed with joy as +she skipped along the street. Ay, and at the window sat the little +sick boy, and the toy Santa Claus left him seemed to have brought him +strength and health, for his eyes sparkled and his cheeks glowed, and +it was plain to see his heart was full of happiness. + +And, oh! how the chimes did ring out, and how joyfully they sang their +Christmas carol that morning! They sang of Bethlehem and the manger +and the Babe; they sang of love and charity, till all the Christmas +air seemed full of angel voices. + + Carol of the Christmas morn-- + Carol of the Christ-child born-- + Carol to the list'ning sky + Till it echoes back again + "Glory be to God on high, + Peace on earth, good will tow'rd men!" + +So all this music--the carol of the chimes, the sound of children's +voices, the smile of the poor little boy over the way--all this sweet +music crept into Joel's heart that Christmas morning; yes, and with +these sweet, holy influences came others so subtile and divine that in +its silent communion with them, Joel's heart cried out amen and amen +to the glory of the Christmas time. + + + + +THE THREE KINGS OF COLOGNE + + + From out Cologne there came three kings + To worship Jesus Christ, their King. + To Him they sought fine herbs they brought, + And many a beauteous golden thing; + They brought their gifts to Bethlehem town, + And in that manger set them down. + + Then spake the first king, and he said: + "O Child, most heavenly, bright, and fair! + I bring this crown to Bethlehem town + For Thee, and only Thee, to wear; + So give a heavenly crown to me + When I shall come at last to Thee!" + + The second, then. "I bring Thee here + This royal robe, O Child!" he cried; + "Of silk 'tis spun, and such an one + There is not in the world beside; + So in the day of doom requite + Me with a heavenly robe of white!" + + The third king gave his gift, and quoth: + "Spikenard and myrrh to Thee I bring, + And with these twain would I most fain + Anoint the body of my King; + So may their incense sometime rise + To plead for me in yonder skies!" + + Thus spake the three kings of Cologne, + That gave their gifts, and went their way; + And now kneel I in prayer hard by + The cradle of the Child to-day; + Nor crown, nor robe, nor spice I bring + As offering unto Christ, my King. + + Yet have I brought a gift the Child + May not despise, however small; + For here I lay my heart to-day, + And it is full of love to all. + Take Thou the poor but loyal thing, + My only tribute, Christ, my King! + + + + +THE COMING OF THE PRINCE + +I + + +"Whirr-r-r! whirr-r-r! whirr-r-r!" said the wind, and it tore through +the streets of the city that Christmas eve, turning umbrellas inside +out, driving the snow in fitful gusts before it, creaking the rusty +signs and shutters, and playing every kind of rude prank it could +think of. + +"How cold your breath is to-night!" said Barbara, with a shiver, as +she drew her tattered little shawl the closer around her benumbed +body. + +"Whirr-r-r! whirr-r-r! whirr-r-r!" answered the wind; "but why are you +out in this storm? You should be at home by the warm fire." + +"I have no home," said Barbara; and then she sighed bitterly, and +something like a tiny pearl came in the corner of one of her sad blue +eyes. + +But the wind did not hear her answer, for it had hurried up the street +to throw a handful of snow in the face of an old man who was +struggling along with a huge basket of good things on each arm. + +"Why are you not at the cathedral?" asked a snowflake, as it alighted +on Barbara's shoulder. "I heard grand music, and saw beautiful lights +there as I floated down from the sky a moment ago." + +"What are they doing at the cathedral?" inquired Barbara. + +"Why, haven't you heard?" exclaimed the snowflake. "I supposed +everybody knew that the prince was coming to-morrow." + +"Surely enough; this is Christmas eve," said Barbara, "and the prince +will come to-morrow." + +Barbara remembered that her mother had told her about the prince, how +beautiful and good and kind and gentle he was, and how he loved the +little children; but her mother was dead now, and there was none to +tell Barbara of the prince and his coming,--none but the little +snowflake. + +"I should like to see the prince," said Barbara, "for I have heard he +was very beautiful and good." + +"That he is," said the snowflake. "I have never seen him, but I heard +the pines and the firs singing about him as I floated over the forest +to-night." + +"Whirr-r-r! whirr-r-r!" cried the wind, returning boisterously to +where Barbara stood. "I've been looking for you everywhere, little +snowflake! So come with me." + +And without any further ado, the wind seized upon the snowflake and +hurried it along the street and led it a merry dance through the icy +air of the winter night. + +Barbara trudged on through the snow and looked in at the bright things +in the shop windows. The glitter of the lights and the sparkle of the +vast array of beautiful Christmas toys quite dazzled her. A strange +mingling of admiration, regret, and envy filled the poor little +creature's heart. + +"Much as I may yearn to have them, it cannot be," she said to herself, +"yet I may feast my eyes upon them." + +"Go away from here!" said a harsh voice. "How can the rich people see +all my fine things if you stand before the window? Be off with you, +you miserable little beggar!" + +It was the shopkeeper, and he gave Barbara a savage box on the ear +that sent her reeling into the deeper snowdrifts of the gutter. + +Presently she came to a large house where there seemed to be much +mirth and festivity. The shutters were thrown open, and through the +windows Barbara could see a beautiful Christmas-tree in the centre of +a spacious room--a beautiful Christmas-tree ablaze with red and +green lights, and heavy with toys and stars and glass balls and other +beautiful things that children love. There was a merry throng around +the tree, and the children were smiling and gleeful, and all in that +house seemed content and happy. Barbara heard them singing, and their +song was about the prince who was to come on the morrow. + +"This must be the house where the prince will stop," thought Barbara. +"How I would like to see his face and hear his voice!--yet what would +he care for _me_, a 'miserable little beggar'?" + +So Barbara crept on through the storm, shivering and disconsolate, yet +thinking of the prince. + +"Where are you going?" she asked of the wind as it overtook her. + +"To the cathedral," laughed the wind. "The great people are flocking +there, and I will have a merry time amongst them, ha, ha, ha!" + +And with laughter the wind whirled away and chased the snow toward the +cathedral. + +"It is there, then, that the prince will come," thought Barbara. "It +is a beautiful place, and the people will pay him homage there. +Perhaps I shall see him if I go there." + +[Illustration: "This must be the house where the prince will stop," +thought Barbara.] + +So she went to the cathedral. Many folk were there in their richest +apparel, and the organ rolled out its grand music, and the people sang +wondrous songs, and the priests made eloquent prayers; and the music, +and the songs, and the prayers were all about the prince and his +expected coming. The throng that swept in and out of the great edifice +talked always of the prince, the prince, the prince, until Barbara +really loved him very much, for all the gentle words she heard the +people say of him. + +"Please, can I go and sit inside?" inquired Barbara of the sexton. + +"No!" said the sexton gruffly, for this was an important occasion with +the sexton, and he had no idea of wasting words on a beggar child. + +"But I will be very good and quiet," pleaded Barbara. "Please may I +not see the prince?" + +"I have said no, and I mean it," retorted the sexton. "What have you +for the prince, or what cares the prince for you? Out with you, and +don't be blocking up the door-way!" So the sexton gave Barbara an +angry push, and the child fell half-way down the icy steps of the +cathedral. She began to cry. Some great people were entering the +cathedral at the time, and they laughed to see her falling. + +"Have you seen the prince?" inquired a snowflake, alighting on +Barbara's cheek. It was the same little snowflake that had clung to +her shawl an hour ago, when the wind came galloping along on his +boisterous search. + +"Ah, no!" sighed Barbara in tears; "but what cares the prince for +_me_?" + +"Do not speak so bitterly," said the little snowflake. "Go to the +forest and you shall see him, for the prince always comes through the +forest to the city." + +Despite the cold, and her bruises, and her tears, Barbara smiled. In +the forest she could behold the prince coming on his way; and he would +not see her, for she would hide among the trees and vines. + +"Whirr-r-r, whirr-r-r!" It was the mischievous, romping wind once +more; and it fluttered Barbara's tattered shawl, and set her hair to +streaming in every direction, and swept the snowflake from her cheek +and sent it spinning through the air. + +Barbara trudged toward the forest. When she came to the city gate the +watchman stopped her, and held his big lantern in her face, and asked +her who she was and where she was going. + +"I am Barbara, and I am going into the forest," said she boldly. + +"Into the forest?" cried the watchman, "and in this storm? No, child; +you will perish!" + +"But I am going to see the prince," said Barbara. "They will not let +me watch for him in the church, nor in any of their pleasant homes, so +I am going into the forest." + +The watchman smiled sadly. He was a kindly man; he thought of his own +little girl at home. + +"No, you must not go to the forest," said he, "for you would perish +with the cold." + +But Barbara would not stay. She avoided the watchman's grasp and ran +as fast as ever she could through the city gate. + +"Come back, come back!" cried the watchman; "you will perish in the +forest!" + +But Barbara would not heed his cry. The falling snow did not stay her, +nor did the cutting blast. She thought only of the prince, and she ran +straightway to the forest. + + +II + +"What do you see up there, O pine-tree?" asked a little vine in the +forest. "You lift your head among the clouds to-night, and you tremble +strangely as if you saw wondrous sights." + +"I see only the distant hill-tops and the dark clouds," answered the +pine-tree. "And the wind sings of the snow-king to-night; to all my +questionings he says, 'Snow, snow, snow,' till I am wearied with his +refrain." + +"But the prince will surely come to-morrow?" inquired the tiny +snowdrop that nestled close to the vine. + +"Oh, yes," said the vine. "I heard the country folks talking about it +as they went through the forest to-day, and they said that the prince +would surely come on the morrow." + +"What are you little folks down there talking about?" asked the +pine-tree. + +"We are talking about the prince," said the vine. + +"Yes, he is to come on the morrow," said the pine-tree, "but not until +the day dawns, and it is still all dark in the east." + +"Yes," said the fir-tree, "the east is black, and only the wind and +the snow issue from it." + +"Keep your head out of my way!" cried the pine-tree to the fir; "with +your constant bobbing around I can hardly see at all." + +"Take _that_ for your bad manners," retorted the fir, slapping the +pine-tree savagely with one of her longest branches. + +The pine-tree would put up with no such treatment, so he hurled his +largest cone at the fir; and for a moment or two it looked as if there +were going to be a serious commotion in the forest. + +"Hush!" cried the vine in a startled tone; "there is some one coming +through the forest." + +The pine-tree and the fir stopped quarrelling, and the snowdrop +nestled closer to the vine, while the vine hugged the pine-tree very +tightly. All were greatly alarmed. + +"Nonsense!" said the pine-tree, in a tone of assumed bravery. "No one +would venture into the forest at such an hour." + +"Indeed! and why not?" cried a child's voice. "Will you not let me +watch with you for the coming of the prince?" + +"Will you not chop me down?" inquired the pine-tree gruffly. + +"Will you not tear me from my tree?" asked the vine. + +"Will you not pluck my blossoms?" plaintively piped the snowdrop. + +"No, of course not," said Barbara; "I have come only to watch with you +for the prince." + +Then Barbara told them who she was, and how cruelly she had been +treated in the city, and how she longed to see the prince, who was to +come on the morrow. And as she talked, the forest and all therein felt +a great compassion for her. + +"Lie at my feet," said the pine-tree, "and I will protect you." + +"Nestle close to me, and I will chafe your temples and body and limbs +till they are warm," said the vine. + +"Let me rest upon your cheek, and I will sing you my little songs," +said the snowdrop. + +And Barbara felt very grateful for all these homely kindnesses. She +rested in the velvety snow at the foot of the pine-tree, and the vine +chafed her body and limbs, and the little flower sang sweet songs to +her. + +"Whirr-r-r, whirr-r-r!" There was that noisy wind again, but this time +it was gentler than it had been in the city. + +"Here you are, my little Barbara," said the wind, in kindly tones. "I +have brought you the little snowflake. I am glad you came away from +the city, for the people are proud and haughty there; oh, but I will +have my fun with them!" + +Then, having dropped the little snowflake on Barbara's cheek, the wind +whisked off to the city again. And we can imagine that it played rare +pranks with the proud, haughty folk on its return; for the wind, as +you know, is no respecter of persons. + +"Dear Barbara," said the snowflake, "I will watch with thee for the +coming of the prince." + +And Barbara was glad, for she loved the little snowflake, that was so +pure and innocent and gentle. + +"Tell us, O pine-tree," cried the vine, "what do you see in the east? +Has the prince yet entered the forest?" + +"The east is full of black clouds," said the pine-tree, "and the winds +that hurry to the hill-tops sing of the snow." + +"But the city is full of brightness," said the fir. "I can see the +lights in the cathedral, and I can hear wondrous music about the +prince and his coming." + +"Yes, they are singing of the prince in the cathedral," said Barbara +sadly. + +"But we shall see him first," whispered the vine reassuringly. + +"Yes, the prince will come through the forest," said the little +snowdrop gleefully. + +"Fear not, dear Barbara, we shall behold the prince in all his glory," +cried the snowflake. + +Then all at once there was a strange hub-bub in the forest; for it +was midnight, and the spirits came from their hiding-places to prowl +about and to disport themselves. Barbara beheld them all in great +wonder and trepidation, for she had never before seen the spirits of +the forest, although she had often heard of them. It was a marvellous +sight. + +[Illustration: So Barbara fell asleep.] + +"Fear nothing," whispered the vine to Barbara,--"fear nothing, for +they dare not touch you." + +The antics of the wood-spirits continued but an hour; for then a cock +crowed, and immediately thereat, with a wondrous scurrying, the elves +and the gnomes and the other grotesque spirits sought their +abiding-places in the caves and in the hollow trunks and under the +loose bark of the trees. And then it was very quiet once more in the +forest. + +"It is very cold," said Barbara. "My hands and feet are like ice." + +Then the pine-tree and the fir shook down the snow from their broad +boughs, and the snow fell upon Barbara and covered her like a white +mantle. + +"You will be warm now," said the vine, kissing Barbara's forehead. And +Barbara smiled. + +Then the snowdrop sang a lullaby about the moss that loved the violet. +And Barbara said, "I am going to sleep; will you wake me when the +prince comes through the forest?" + +And they said they would. So Barbara fell asleep. + + +III + +"The bells in the city are ringing merrily," said the fir, "and the +music in the cathedral is louder and more beautiful than before. Can +it be that the prince has already come into the city?" + +"No," cried the pine-tree, "look to the east and see the Christmas day +a-dawning! The prince is coming, and his pathway is through the +forest!" + +The storm had ceased. Snow lay upon all the earth. The hills, the +forest, the city, and the meadows were white with the robe the +storm-king had thrown over them. Content with his wondrous work, the +storm-king himself had fled to his far Northern home before the dawn +of the Christmas day. Everything was bright and sparkling and +beautiful. And most beautiful was the great hymn of praise the forest +sang that Christmas morning,--the pine-trees and the firs and the +vines and the snow-flowers that sang of the prince and of his promised +coming. + +"Wake up, little one," cried the vine, "for the prince is coming!" + +But Barbara slept; she did not hear the vine's soft calling nor the +lofty music of the forest. + +A little snow-bird flew down from the fir-tree's bough and perched +upon the vine, and carolled in Barbara's ear of the Christmas morning +and of the coming of the prince. But Barbara slept; she did not hear +the carol of the bird. + +"Alas!" sighed the vine, "Barbara will not awaken, and the prince is +coming." + +Then the vine and the snowdrop wept, and the pine-tree and the fir +were very sad. + +The prince came through the forest clad in royal raiment and wearing a +golden crown. Angels came with him, and the forest sang a great hymn +unto the prince, such a hymn as had never before been heard on earth. +The prince came to the sleeping child and smiled upon her and called +her by name. + +"Barbara, my little one," said the prince, "awaken, and come with me." + +Then Barbara opened her eyes and beheld the prince. And it seemed as +if a new life had come to her, for there was warmth in her body and a +flush upon her cheeks and a light in her eyes that were divine. And +she was clothed no longer in rags, but in white flowing raiment; and +upon the soft brown hair there was a crown like those which angels +wear. And as Barbara arose and went to the prince, the little +snowflake fell from her cheek upon her bosom, and forthwith became a +pearl more precious than all other jewels upon earth. + +And the prince took Barbara in his arms and blessed her, and turning +round about, returned with the little child unto his home, while the +forest and the sky and the angels sang a wondrous song. + +The city waited for the prince, but he did not come. None knew of the +glory of the forest that Christmas morning, nor of the new life that +came to little Barbara. + +_Come thou, dear Prince, oh, come to us this holy Christmas time! Come +to the busy marts of earth, the quiet homes, the noisy streets, the +humble lanes; come to us all, and with thy love touch every human +heart, that we may know that love, and in its blessed peace bear +charity to all mankind!_ + + + + +CHRYSTMASSE OF OLDE + + + God rest you, Chrysten gentil men, + Wherever you may be,-- + God rest you all in fielde or hall, + Or on ye stormy sea; + For on this morn oure Chryst is born + That saveth you and me. + + Last night ye shepherds in ye east + Saw many a wondrous thing; + Ye sky last night flamed passing bright + Whiles that ye stars did sing, + And angels came to bless ye name + Of Jesus Chryst, oure Kyng. + + God rest you, Chrysten gentil men, + Faring where'er you may; + In noblesse court do thou no sport, + In tournament no playe, + In paynim lands hold thou thy hands + From bloudy works this daye. + + But thinking on ye gentil Lord + That died upon ye tree, + Let troublings cease and deeds of peace + Abound in Chrystantie; + For on this morn ye Chryst is born + That saveth you and me. + + + + +THE MOUSE AND THE MOONBEAM + + +Whilst you were sleeping, little Dear-my-Soul, strange things +happened; but that I saw and heard them, I should never have believed +them. The clock stood, of course, in the corner, a moonbeam floated +idly on the floor, and a little mauve mouse came from the hole in the +chimney corner and frisked and scampered in the light of the moonbeam +upon the floor. The little mauve mouse was particularly merry; +sometimes she danced upon two legs and sometimes upon four legs, but +always very daintily and always very merrily. + +"Ah, me!" sighed the old clock, "how different mice are nowadays from +the mice we used to have in the good old times! Now there was your +grandma, Mistress Velvetpaw, and there was your grandpa, Master +Sniffwhisker,--how grave and dignified they were! Many a night have I +seen them dancing upon the carpet below me, but always the stately +minuet and never that crazy frisking which you are executing now, to +my surprise--yes, and to my horror, too." + +"But why shouldn't I be merry?" asked the little mauve mouse. +"To-morrow is Christmas, and this is Christmas eve." + +"So it is," said the old clock. "I had really forgotten all about it. +But tell me, what is Christmas to you, little Miss Mauve Mouse?" + +"A great deal to me!" cried the little mauve mouse. "I have been very +good a very long time: I have not used any bad words, nor have I +gnawed any holes, nor have I stolen any canary seed, nor have I +worried my mother by running behind the flour-barrel where that horrid +trap is set. In fact, I have been so good that I'm very sure Santa +Claus will bring me something very pretty." + +This seemed to amuse the old clock mightily; in fact, the old clock +fell to laughing so heartily that in an unguarded moment she struck +twelve instead of ten, which was exceedingly careless and therefore to +be reprehended. + +"Why, you silly little mauve mouse," said the old clock, "you don't +believe in Santa Claus, do you?" + +"Of course I do," answered the little mauve mouse. "Believe in Santa +Claus? Why shouldn't I? Didn't Santa Claus bring me a beautiful +butter-cracker last Christmas, and a lovely gingersnap, and a +delicious rind of cheese, and--and--lots of things? I should be very +ungrateful if I did not believe in Santa Claus, and I certainly shall +not disbelieve in him at the very moment when I am expecting him to +arrive with a bundle of goodies for me. + +[Illustration: "But why shouldn't I be merry?" asked the little mauve +mouse. "To-morrow is Christmas, and this is Christmas eve."] + +"I once had a little sister," continued the little mauve mouse, "who +did not believe in Santa Claus, and the very thought of the fate that +befell her makes my blood run cold and my whiskers stand on end. She +died before I was born, but my mother has told me all about her. +Perhaps you never saw her; her name was Squeaknibble, and she was in +stature one of those long, low, rangy mice that are seldom found in +well-stocked pantries. Mother says that Squeaknibble took after our +ancestors who came from New England, where the malignant ingenuity of +the people and the ferocity of the cats rendered life precarious +indeed. Squeaknibble seemed to inherit many ancestral traits, the most +conspicuous of which was a disposition to sneer at some of the most +respected dogmas in mousedom. From her very infancy she doubted, for +example, the widely accepted theory that the moon was composed of +green cheese; and this heresy was the first intimation her parents had +of the sceptical turn of her mind. Of course, her parents were vastly +annoyed, for their maturer natures saw that this youthful scepticism +portended serious, if not fatal, consequences. Yet all in vain did the +sagacious couple reason and plead with their headstrong and heretical +child. + +"For a long time Squeaknibble would not believe that there was any +such archfiend as a cat; but she came to be convinced to the contrary +one memorable night, on which occasion she lost two inches of her +beautiful tail, and received so terrible a fright that for fully an +hour afterward her little heart beat so violently as to lift her off +her feet and bump her head against the top of our domestic hole. The +cat that deprived my sister of so large a percentage of her vertebral +colophon was the same brindled ogress that nowadays steals ever and +anon into this room, crouches treacherously behind the sofa, and +feigns to be asleep, hoping, forsooth, that some of us, heedless of +her hated presence, will venture within reach of her diabolical claws. +So enraged was this ferocious monster at the escape of my sister that +she ground her fangs viciously together, and vowed to take no pleasure +in life until she held in her devouring jaws the innocent little mouse +which belonged to the mangled bit of tail she even then clutched in +her remorseless claws." + +"Yes," said the old clock, "now that you recall the incident, I +recollect it well. I was here then, in this very corner, and I +remember that I laughed at the cat and chided her for her awkwardness. +My reproaches irritated her; she told me that a clock's duty was to +run itself down, _not_ to be depreciating the merits of others! Yes, I +recall the time; that cat's tongue is fully as sharp as her claws." + +"Be that as it may," said the little mauve mouse, "it is a matter of +history, and therefore beyond dispute, that from that very moment the +cat pined for Squeaknibble's life; it seemed as if that one little +two-inch taste of Squeaknibble's tail had filled the cat with a +consuming passion, or appetite, for the rest of Squeaknibble. So the +cat waited and watched and hunted and schemed and devised and did +everything possible for a cat--a cruel cat--to do in order to gain her +murderous ends. One night--one fatal Christmas eve--our mother had +undressed the children for bed, and was urging upon them to go to +sleep earlier than usual, since she fully expected that Santa Claus +would bring each of them something very palatable and nice before +morning. Thereupon the little dears whisked their cunning tails, +pricked up their beautiful ears, and began telling one another what +they hoped Santa Claus would bring. One asked for a slice of +Roquefort, another for Neufchatel, another for Sap Sago, and a fourth +for Edam; one expressed a preference for de Brie, while another hoped +to get Parmesan; one clamored for imperial blue Stilton, and another +craved the fragrant boon of Caprera. There were fourteen little ones +then, and consequently there were diverse opinions as to the kind of +gift which Santa Claus should best bring; still, there was, as you can +readily understand, an enthusiastic unanimity upon this point, namely, +that the gift should be cheese of some brand or other. + +"'My dears,' said our mother, 'what matters it whether the boon which +Santa Claus brings be royal English cheddar or fromage de Bricquebec, +Vermont sage, or Herkimer County skim-milk? We should be content with +whatsoever Santa Claus bestows, so long as it be cheese, disjoined +from all traps whatsoever, unmixed with Paris green, and free from +glass, strychnine, and other harmful ingredients. As for myself, I +shall be satisfied with a cut of nice, fresh Western reserve; for +truly I recognize in no other viand or edible half the fragrance or +half the gustfulness to be met with in one of these pale but aromatic +domestic products. So run away to your dreams now, that Santa Claus +may find you sleeping.' + +"The children obeyed,--all but Squeaknibble. 'Let the others think +what they please,' said she, 'but _I_ don't believe in Santa Claus. +I'm not going to bed, either. I'm going to creep out of this dark hole +and have a quiet romp, all by myself, in the moonlight.' Oh, what a +vain, foolish, wicked little mouse was Squeaknibble! But I will not +reproach the dead; her punishment came all too swiftly. Now listen: +who do you suppose overheard her talking so disrespectfully of Santa +Claus?" + +"Why, Santa Claus himself," said the old clock. + +"Oh, no," answered the little mauve mouse. "It was that wicked, +murderous cat! Just as Satan lurks and lies in wait for bad children, +so does the cruel cat lurk and lie in wait for naughty little mice. +And you can depend upon it that, when that awful cat heard +Squeaknibble speak so disrespectfully of Santa Claus, her wicked eyes +glowed with joy, her sharp teeth watered, and her bristling fur +emitted electric sparks as big as marrowfat peas. Then what did that +blood-thirsty monster do but scuttle as fast as she could into +Dear-my-Soul's room, leap up into Dear-my-Soul's crib, and walk off +with the pretty little white muff which Dear-my-Soul used to wear when +she went for a visit to the little girl in the next block! What upon +earth did the horrid old cat want with Dear-my-Soul's pretty little +white muff? Ah, the duplicity, the diabolical ingenuity of that cat! +Listen. + +"In the first place," resumed the little mauve mouse, after a pause +that testified eloquently to the depth of her emotion,--"in the first +place, that wretched cat dressed herself up in that pretty little +white muff, by which you are to understand that she crawled through +the muff just so far as to leave her four cruel legs at liberty." + +"Yes, I understand," said the old clock. + +"Then she put on the boy doll's fur cap," said the little mauve mouse, +"and when she was arrayed in the boy doll's fur cap and Dear-my-Soul's +pretty little white muff, of course she didn't look like a cruel cat +at all. But whom did she look like?" + +"Like the boy doll," suggested the old clock. + +"No, no!" cried the little mauve mouse. + +"Like Dear-my-Soul?" asked the old clock. + +"How stupid you are!" exclaimed the little mauve mouse. "Why, she +looked like Santa Claus, of course!" + +"Oh, yes; I see," said the old clock. "Now I begin to be interested; +go on." + +"Alas!" sighed the little mauve mouse, "not much remains to be told; +but there is more of my story left than there was of Squeaknibble when +that horrid cat crawled out of that miserable disguise. You are to +understand that, contrary to her sagacious mother's injunction, and in +notorious derision of the mooted coming of Santa Claus, Squeaknibble +issued from the friendly hole in the chimney corner, and gambolled +about over this very carpet, and, I dare say, in this very moonlight." + +"I do not know," said the moonbeam faintly. "I am so very old, and I +have seen so many things--I do not know." + +"Right merrily was Squeaknibble gambolling," continued the little +mauve mouse, "and she had just turned a double back somersault without +the use of what remained of her tail, when, all of a sudden, she +beheld, looming up like a monster ghost, a figure all in white fur! +Oh, how frightened she was, and how her little heart did beat! 'Purr, +purr-r-r,' said the ghost in white fur. 'Oh, please don't hurt me!' +pleaded Squeaknibble. 'No; I'll not hurt you,' said the ghost in +white fur; 'I'm Santa Claus, and I've brought you a beautiful piece of +savory old cheese, you dear little mousie, you.' Poor Squeaknibble was +deceived; a sceptic all her life, she was at last befooled by the most +palpable and most fatal of frauds. 'How good of you!' said +Squeaknibble. 'I didn't believe there was a Santa Claus, and--' but +before she could say more she was seized by two sharp, cruel claws +that conveyed her crushed body to the murderous mouth of mousedom's +most malignant foe. I can dwell no longer upon this harrowing scene. +Suffice it to say that ere the morrow's sun rose like a big yellow +Herkimer County cheese upon the spot where that tragedy had been +enacted, poor Squeaknibble passed to that bourn whence two inches of +her beautiful tail had preceded her by the space of three weeks to a +day. As for Santa Claus, when he came that Christmas eve, bringing +morceaux de Brie and of Stilton for the other little mice, he heard +with sorrow of Squeaknibble's fate; and ere he departed he said that +in all his experience he had never known of a mouse or of a child that +had prospered after once saying that he didn't believe in Santa +Claus." + +"Well, that is a remarkable story," said the old clock. "But if you +believe in Santa Claus, why aren't you in bed?" + +"That's where I shall be presently," answered the little mauve mouse, +"but I must have my scamper, you know. It is very pleasant, I assure +you, to frolic in the light of the moon; only I cannot understand why +you are always so cold and so solemn and so still, you pale, pretty +little moonbeam." + +"Indeed, I do not know that I am so," said the moonbeam. "But I am +very old, and I have travelled many, many leagues, and I have seen +wondrous things. Sometimes I toss upon the ocean, sometimes I fall +upon a slumbering flower, sometimes I rest upon a dead child's face. I +see the fairies at their play, and I hear mothers singing lullabies. +Last night I swept across the frozen bosom of a river. A woman's face +looked up at me; it was the picture of eternal rest. 'She is +sleeping,' said the frozen river. 'I rock her to and fro, and sing to +her. Pass gently by, O moonbeam; pass gently by, lest you awaken +her.'" + +"How strangely you talk," said the old clock. "Now, I'll warrant me +that, if you wanted to, you could tell many a pretty and wonderful +story. You must know many a Christmas tale; pray, tell us one to wear +away this night of Christmas watching." + +"I know but one," said the moonbeam. "I have told it over and over +again, in every land and in every home; yet I do not weary of it. It +is very simple. Should you like to hear it?" + +"Indeed we should," said the old clock; "but before you begin, let me +strike twelve; for I shouldn't want to interrupt you." + +When the old clock had performed this duty with somewhat more than +usual alacrity, the moonbeam began its story: + +"Upon a time--so long ago that I can't tell how long ago it was--I +fell upon a hill-side. It was in a far distant country; this I know, +because, although it was the Christmas time, it was not in that +country as it is wont to be in countries to the north. Hither the +snow-king never came; flowers bloomed all the year, and at all times +the lambs found pleasant pasturage on the hill-sides. The night wind +was balmy, and there was a fragrance of cedar in its breath. There +were violets on the hill-side, and I fell amongst them and lay there. +I kissed them, and they awakened. 'Ah, is it you, little moonbeam?' +they said, and they nestled in the grass which the lambs had left +uncropped. + +"A shepherd lay upon a broad stone on the hill-side; above him spread +an olive-tree, old, ragged, and gloomy; but now it swayed its rusty +branches majestically in the shifting air of night. The shepherd's +name was Benoni. Wearied with long watching, he had fallen asleep; his +crook had slipped from his hand. Upon the hill-side, too, slept the +shepherd's flock. I had counted them again and again; I had stolen +across their gentle faces and brought them pleasant dreams of green +pastures and of cool water-brooks. I had kissed old Benoni, too, as he +lay slumbering there; and in his dreams he seemed to see Israel's King +come upon earth, and in his dreams he murmured the promised Messiah's +name. + +"'Ah, is it you, little moonbeam?' quoth the violets. 'You have come +in good time. Nestle here with us, and see wonderful things come to +pass.' + +"'What are these wonderful things of which you speak?' I asked. + +"'We heard the old olive-tree telling of them to-night,' said the +violets. 'Do not go to sleep, little violets,' said the old +olive-tree, 'for this is Christmas night, and the Master shall walk +upon the hill-side in the glory of the midnight hour.' So we waited +and watched; one by one the lambs fell asleep; one by one the stars +peeped out; the shepherd nodded and crooned, and crooned and nodded, +and at last he, too, went fast asleep, and his crook slipped from his +keeping. Then we called to the old olive-tree yonder, asking how soon +the midnight hour would come; but all the old olive-tree answered was +'Presently, presently,' and finally we, too, fell asleep, wearied by +our long watching, and lulled by the rocking and swaying of the old +olive-tree in the breezes of the night. + +"'But who is this Master?' I asked. + +"'A child, a little child,' they answered. 'He is called the little +Master by the others. He comes here often, and plays among the flowers +of the hill-side. Sometimes the lambs, gambolling too carelessly, have +crushed and bruised us so that we lie bleeding and are like to die; +but the little Master heals our wounds and refreshes us once again.' + +"I marvelled much to hear these things. 'The midnight hour is at +hand,' said I, 'and I will abide with you to see this little Master of +whom you speak.' So we nestled among the verdure of the hill-side, and +sang songs one to another. + +"'Come away!' called the night wind; 'I know a beauteous sea not far +hence, upon whose bosom you shall float, float, float away out into +the mists and clouds, if you will come with me.' + +"But I hid under the violets and amid the tall grass, that the night +wind might not woo me with its pleading. 'Ho, there, old olive-tree!' +cried the violets; 'do you see the little Master coming? Is not the +midnight hour at hand?' + +"'I can see the town yonder,' said the old olive-tree. 'A star beams +bright over Bethlehem, the iron gates swing open, and the little +Master comes.' + +"Two children came to the hill-side. The one, older than his comrade, +was Dimas, the son of Benoni. He was rugged and sinewy, and over his +brown shoulders was flung a goatskin; a leathern cap did not confine +his long, dark curly hair. The other child was he whom they called the +little Master; about his slender form clung raiment white as snow, and +around his face of heavenly innocence fell curls of golden yellow. So +beautiful a child I had not seen before, nor have I ever since seen +such as he. And as they came together to the hill-side, there seemed +to glow about the little Master's head a soft white light, as if the +moon had sent its tenderest, fairest beams to kiss those golden curls. + +"'What sound was that?' cried Dimas, for he was exceeding fearful. + +"'Have no fear, Dimas,' said the little Master. 'Give me thy hand, and +I will lead thee.' + +"Presently they came to the rock whereon Benoni, the shepherd, lay; +and they stood under the old olive-tree, and the old olive-tree swayed +no longer in the night wind, but bent its branches reverently in the +presence of the little Master. It seemed as if the wind, too, stayed +in its shifting course just then; for suddenly there was a solemn +hush, and you could hear no noise, except that in his dreams Benoni +spoke the Messiah's name. + +[Illustration: "'What sound was that?' cried Dimas, for he was +exceeding fearful."] + +"'Thy father sleeps,' said the little Master, 'and it is well that it +is so; for that I love thee Dimas, and that thou shalt walk with me in +my Father's kingdom, I would show thee the glories of my birthright.' + +"Then all at once sweet music filled the air, and light, greater than +the light of day, illumined the sky and fell upon all that hill-side. +The heavens opened, and angels, singing joyous songs, walked to the +earth. More wondrous still, the stars, falling from their places in +the sky, clustered upon the old olive-tree, and swung hither and +thither like colored lanterns. The flowers of the hill-side all +awakened, and they, too, danced and sang. The angels, coming hither, +hung gold and silver and jewels and precious stones upon the old +olive, where swung the stars; so that the glory of that sight, though +I might live forever, I shall never see again. When Dimas heard and +saw these things he fell upon his knees, and catching the hem of the +little Master's garment, he kissed it. + +"'Greater joy than this shall be thine, Dimas,' said the little +Master; 'but first must all things be fulfilled.' + +"All through that Christmas night did the angels come and go with +their sweet anthems; all through that Christmas night did the stars +dance and sing; and when it came my time to steal away, the hill-side +was still beautiful with the glory and the music of heaven." + +"Well, is that all?" asked the old clock. + +"No," said the moonbeam; "but I am nearly done. The years went on. +Sometimes I tossed upon the ocean's bosom, sometimes I scampered o'er +a battle-field, sometimes I lay upon a dead child's face. I heard the +voices of Darkness and mothers' lullabies and sick men's prayers--and +so the years went on. + +"I fell one night upon a hard and furrowed face. It was of ghostly +pallor. A thief was dying on the cross, and this was his wretched +face. About the cross stood men with staves and swords and spears, but +none paid heed unto the thief. Somewhat beyond this cross another was +lifted up, and upon it was stretched a human body my light fell not +upon. But I heard a voice that somewhere I had heard before,--though +where I did not know,--and this voice blessed those that railed and +jeered and shamefully entreated. And suddenly the voice called +'Dimas, Dimas!' and the thief upon whose hardened face I rested made +answer. + +"Then I saw that it was Dimas; yet to this wicked criminal there +remained but little of the shepherd child whom I had seen in all his +innocence upon the hill-side. Long years of sinful life had seared +their marks into his face; yet now, at the sound of that familiar +voice, somewhat of the old-time boyish look came back, and in the +yearning of the anguished eyes I seemed to see the shepherd's son +again. + +"'The Master!' cried Dimas, and he stretched forth his neck that he +might see him that spake. + +"'O Dimas, how art thou changed!' cried the Master, yet there was in +his voice no tone of rebuke save that which cometh of love. + +"Then Dimas wept, and in that hour he forgot his pain. And the +Master's consoling voice and the Master's presence there wrought in +the dying criminal such a new spirit, that when at last his head fell +upon his bosom, and the men about the cross said that he was dead, it +seemed as if I shined not upon a felon's face, but upon the face of +the gentle shepherd lad, the son of Benoni. + +"And shining on that dead and peaceful face, I bethought me of the +little Master's words that he had spoken under the old olive-tree upon +the hill-side: 'Your eyes behold the promised glory now, O Dimas,' I +whispered, 'for with the Master you walk in Paradise.'" + + * * * * * + +Ah, little Dear-my-Soul, you know--you know whereof the moonbeam +spake. The shepherd's bones are dust, the flocks are scattered, the +old olive-tree is gone, the flowers of the hill-side are withered, and +none knoweth where the grave of Dimas is made. But last night, again, +there shined a star over Bethlehem, and the angels descended from the +sky to earth, and the stars sang together in glory. And the +bells,--hear them, little Dear-my-Soul, how sweetly they are +ringing,--the bells bear us the good tidings of great joy this +Christmas morning, that our Christ is born, and that with him he +bringeth peace on earth and good-will toward men. + + + + +CHRISTMAS MORNING + + + The angel host that sped last night, + Bearing the wondrous news afar, + Came in their ever-glorious flight + Unto a slumbering little star. + + "Awake and sing, O star!" they cried. + "Awake and glorify the morn! + Herald the tidings far and wide-- + He that shall lead His flock is born!" + + The little star awoke and sung + As only stars in rapture may, + And presently where church bells hung + The joyous tidings found their way. + +[Illustration: + Share thou this holy time with me, + The universal hymn of love. +] + + "Awake, O bells! 't is Christmas morn-- + Awake and let thy music tell + To all mankind that now is born + What Shepherd loves His lambkins well!" + + Then rang the bells as fled the night + O'er dreaming land and drowsing deep, + And coming with the morning light, + They called, my child, to you asleep. + + Sweetly and tenderly they spoke, + And lingering round your little bed, + Their music pleaded till you woke, + And this is what their music said: + + "Awake and sing! 'tis Christmas morn, + Whereon all earth salutes her King! + In Bethlehem is the Shepherd born. + Awake, O little lamb, and sing!" + + So, dear my child, kneel at my feet, + And with those voices from above + Share thou this holy time with me, + The universal hymn of love. + +December 25, 1890. + + + + +MISTRESS MERCILESS + + +This is to tell of our little Mistress Merciless, who for a season +abided with us, but is now and forever gone from us unto the far-off +land of Ever-Plaisance. The tale is soon told; for it were not seemly +to speak all the things that are in one's heart when one hath to say +of a much-beloved child, whose life here hath been shortened so that, +in God's wisdom and kindness, her life shall be longer in that garden +that bloometh far away. + +You shall know that all did call her Mistress Merciless; but her +mercilessness was of a sweet, persuasive kind: for with the beauty of +her face and the music of her voice and the exceeding sweetness of her +virtues was she wont to slay all hearts; and this she did unwittingly, +for she was a little child. And so it was in love that we did call her +Mistress Merciless, just as it was in love that she did lord it over +all our hearts. + +Upon a time walked she in a full fair garden, and there went with her +an handmaiden that we did call in merry wise the Queen of Sheba; for +this handmaiden was in sooth no queen at all, but a sorry and +ill-favored wench; but she was assotted upon our little Mistress +Merciless and served her diligently, and for that good reason was +vastly beholden of us all. Yet, in a jest, we called her the Queen of +Sheba; and I make a venture that she looked exceeding fair in the eyes +of our little Mistress Merciless: for the eyes of children look not +upon the faces but into the hearts and souls of others. Whilst these +two walked in the full fair garden at that time they came presently +unto an arbor wherein there was a rustic seat, which was called the +Siege of Restfulness; and hereupon sate a little sick boy that, from +his birth, had been lame, so that he could not play and make merry +with other children, but was wont to come every day into this full +fair garden and content himself with the companionship of the flowers. +And, though he was a little lame boy, he never trod upon those +flowers; and even had he done so, methinks the pressure of those +crippled feet had been a caress, for the little lame boy was filled +with the spirit of love and tenderness. As the tiniest, whitest, +shrinking flower exhaleth the most precious perfume, so in and from +this little lame boy's life there came a grace that was hallowing in +its beauty. + +Since they never before had seen him, they asked him his name; and he +answered them that of those at home he was called Master Sweetheart, a +name he could not understand: for surely, being a cripple, he must be +a very sorry sweetheart; yet, that he was a sweetheart unto his mother +at least he had no doubt, for she did love to hold him in her lap and +call him by that name; and many times when she did so he saw that +tears were in her eyes,--a proof, she told him when he asked, that +Master Sweetheart was her sweetheart before all others upon earth. + +It befell that our little Mistress Merciless and Master Sweetheart +became fast friends, and the Queen of Sheba was handmaiden to them +both; for the simple, loyal creature had not a mind above the artless +prattle of childhood, and the strange allegory of the lame boy's +speech filled her with awe, even as the innocent lisping of our little +Mistress Merciless delighted her heart and came within the +comprehension of her limited understanding. So each day, when it was +fair, these three came into the full fair garden, and rambled there +together; and when they were weary they entered into the arbor and +sate together upon the Siege of Restfulness. Wit ye well there was not +a flower or a tree or a shrub or a bird in all that full fair garden +which they did not know and love, and in very sooth every flower and +tree and shrub and bird therein did know and love them. + +When they entered into the arbor, and sate together upon the Siege of +Restfulness, it was Master Sweetheart's wont to tell them of the land +of Ever-Plaisance, for it was a conceit of his that he journeyed each +day nearer and nearer to that land, and that his journey thitherward +was nearly done. How came he to know of that land I cannot say, for I +do not know; but I am fain to believe that, as he said, the exceeding +fair angels told him thereof when by night, as he lay sleeping, they +came singing and with caresses to his bedside. + +I speak now of a holy thing, therefore I speak truth when I say that +while little children lie sleeping in their beds at night it pleaseth +God to send His exceeding fair angels with singing and caresses to +bear messages of His love unto those little sleeping children. And I +have seen those exceeding fair angels bend with folded wings over the +little cradles and the little beds, and kiss those little sleeping +children and whisper God's messages of love to them, and I knew that +those messages were full of sweet tidings; for, even though they +slept, the little children smiled. This have I seen, and there is none +who loveth little children that will deny the truth of this thing +which I have now solemnly declared. + +[Illustration: The strange allegory of the lame boy's speech filled +her with awe.] + +Of that land of Ever-Plaisance was our little Mistress Merciless ever +fain to hear tell. But when she beset the rest of us to speak thereof +we knew not what to say other than to confirm such reports as Master +Sweetheart had already made. For when it cometh to knowing of that +far-off land,--ah me, who knoweth more than the veriest little child? +And oftentimes within the bosom of a little, helpless, fading one +there bloometh a wisdom which sages cannot comprehend. So when she +asked us we were wont to bid her go to Master Sweetheart, for he knew +the truth and spake it. + +It is now to tell of an adventure which on a time befell in that full +fair garden of which you have heard me speak. In this garden lived +many birds of surpassing beauty and most rapturous song, and among +them was one that they called Joyous, for that he did ever carol forth +so joyously, it mattered not what the day soever might be. This bird +Joyous had his home in the top of an exceeding high tree, hard by the +pleasant arbor, and here did he use to sit at such times as the little +people came into that arbor, and then would he sing to them such songs +as befitted that quiet spot, and them that came thereto. But there was +a full evil cat that dwelt near by, and this cruel beast found no +pleasure in the music that Joyous did make continually; nay, that +music filled this full evil cat with a wicked thirst for the blood of +that singing innocent, and she had no peace for the malice that was +within her seeking to devise a means whereby she might comprehend the +bird Joyous to her murderous intent. Now you must know that it was the +wont of our little Mistress Merciless and of Master Sweetheart to feed +the birds in that fair garden with such crumbs as they were suffered +to bring with them into the arbor, and at such times would those birds +fly down with grateful twitterings and eat of those crumbs upon the +greensward round about the arbor. Wit ye well, it was a merry sight to +see those twittering birds making feast upon the good things which +those children brought, and our little Mistress Merciless and little +Master Sweetheart had sweet satisfaction therein. But, on a day, +whilst thus those twittering birds made great feasting, lo! on a +sudden did that full evil cat whereof I have spoken steal softly from +a thicket, and with one hideous bound make her way into the very midst +of those birds and seize upon that bird Joyous, that was wont to sing +so merrily from the tree hard by the arbor. Oh, there was a mighty din +and a fearful fluttering, and the rest flew swiftly away, but Joyous +could not do so, because the full evil cat held him in her cruel +fangs and claws. And I make no doubt that Joyous would speedily have +met his death, but that with a wrathful cry did our little Mistress +Merciless hasten to his rescue. And our little Mistress belabored that +full evil cat with Master Sweetheart's crutch, until that cruel beast +let loose her hold upon the fluttering bird and was full glad to +escape with her aching bones into the thicket again. So it was that +Joyous was recovered from death; but even then might it have fared +ill with him, had they not taken him up and dressed his wounds and +cared for him until duly he was well again. And then they released him +to do his plaisance, and he returned to his home in the tree hard by +the arbor and there he sung unto those children more sweetly than ever +before; for his heart was full of gratitude to our little Mistress +Merciless and Master Sweetheart. + +Now, of the dolls that she had in goodly number, that one which was +named Beautiful did our little Mistress Merciless love best. Know well +that the doll Beautiful had come not from oversea, and was neither of +wax nor of china; but she was right ingeniously constructed of a +bed-key that was made of wood, and unto the top of this bed-key had +the Queen of Sheba superadded a head with a fair face, and upon the +body and the arms of the key had she hung passing noble raiment. Unto +this doll Beautiful was our little Mistress Merciless vastly beholden, +and she did use to have the doll Beautiful lie by her side at night +whilst she slept, and whithersoever during the day she went, there +also would she take the doll Beautiful, too. Much sorrow and +lamentation, therefore, made our little Mistress Merciless when on an +evil day the doll Beautiful by chance fell into the fish-pond, and was +not rescued therefrom until one of her beauteous eyes had been +devoured of the envious water; so that ever thereafter the doll +Beautiful had but one eye, and that, forsooth, was grievously faded. +And on another evil day came a monster ribald dog pup and seized upon +the doll Beautiful whilst she reposed in the arbor, and bore her away, +and romped boisterously with her upon the sward, and tore off her +black-thread hair, and sought to destroy her wholly, which surely he +would have done but for the Queen of Sheba, who made haste to rescue +the doll Beautiful, and chastise that monster ribald dog pup. + +Therefore, as you can understand, the time was right busily spent. The +full fair garden, with its flowers and the singing birds and the +gracious arbor and the Siege of Restfulness, found favor with those +children, and amid these joyous scenes did Master Sweetheart have to +tell each day of that far-off land of Ever-Plaisance, whither he said +he was going. And one day, when the sun shone very bright, and the +full fair garden joyed in the music of those birds, Master Sweetheart +did not come, and they missed the little lame boy and wondered where +he was. And as he never came again they thought at last that of a +surety he had departed into that country whereof he loved to tell. +Which thing filled our little Mistress Merciless with wonder and +inquiry; and I think she was lonely ever after that,--lonely for +Master Sweetheart. + +I am thinking now of her and of him; for this is the Christmas +season,--the time when it is most meet to think of the children and +other sweet and holy things. There is snow everywhere, snow and cold. +The garden is desolate and voiceless: the flowers are gone, the trees +are ghosts, the birds have departed. It is winter out there, and it is +winter, too, in this heart of mine. Yet in this Christmas season I +think of them, and it pleaseth me--God forbid that I offend with much +speaking--it pleaseth me to tell of the little things they did and +loved. And you shall understand it all if, perchance, this sacred +Christmas time a little Mistress Merciless of your own, or a little +Master Sweetheart, clingeth to your knee and sanctifieth your +hearth-stone. + +When of an evening all the joy of day was done, would our little +Mistress Merciless fall aweary; and then her eyelids would grow +exceeding heavy and her little tired hands were fain to fold. At such +a time it was my wont to beguile her weariness with little tales of +faery, or with the gentle play that sleepy children like. Much was her +fancy taken with what I told her of the train that every night +whirleth away to Shut-Eye Town, bearing unto that beauteous country +sleepy little girls and boys. Nor would she be content until I told +her thereof,--yes, every night whilst I robed her in her cap and gown +would she demand of me that tale of Shut-Eye Town, and the wonderful +train that was to bear her thither. Then would I say in this wise: + +At Bedtime-ville there is a train of cars that waiteth for you, my +sweet,--for you and for other little ones that would go to quiet, +slumbrous Shut-Eye Town. + +But make no haste; there is room for all. Each hath a tiny car that is +snug and warm, and when the train starteth each car swingeth +soothingly this way and that way, this way and that way, through all +the journey of the night. + +Your little gown is white and soft; your little cap will hold those +pretty curls so fast that they cannot get away. Here is a curl that +peepeth out to see what is going to happen. Hush, little curl! make no +noise; we will let you peep out at the wonderful sights, but you must +not tell the others about it; let them sleep, snuggled close together. + +The locomotive is ready to start. Can you not hear it? + +"Shug-chug! Shug-chug! Shug-chug!" That is what the locomotive is +saying, all to itself. It knoweth how pleasant a journey it is about +to make. + +"Shug-chug! Shug-chug! Shug-chug!" + +Oh, many a time hath it proudly swept over prairie and hill, over +river and plain, through sleeping gardens and drowsy cities, swiftly +and quietly, bearing the little ones to the far, pleasant valley where +lieth Shut-Eye Town. + +"Shug-chug! Shug-chug! Shug-chug!" + +So sayeth the locomotive to itself at the station in Bedtime-ville; +for it knoweth how fair and far a journey is before it. + +Then a bell soundeth. Surely my little one heareth the bell! + +"Ting-long! Ting-a-long! Ting-long!" + +So soundeth the bell, and it seemeth to invite you to sleep and +dreams. + +"Ting-long! Ting-a-long! Ting-long!" + +How sweetly ringeth and calleth that bell. + +"To sleep--to dreams, O little lambs!" it seemeth to call. "Nestle +down close, fold your hands, and shut your dear eyes! We are off and +away to Shut-Eye Town! Ting-long! Ting-a-long! Ting-long! To sleep--to +dreams, O little cosset lambs!" + +And now the conductor calleth out in turn. "All aboard!" he calleth. +"All aboard for Shut-Eye Town!" he calleth in a kindly tone. + +But, hark ye, dear-my-soul, make thou no haste; there is room for all. +Here is a cosey little car for you. How like your cradle it is, for it +is snug and warm, and it rocketh this way and that way, this way and +that way, all night long, and its pillows caress you tenderly. So step +into the pretty nest, and in it speed to Shut-Eye Town. + +"Toot! Toot!" + +That is the whistle. It soundeth twice, but it must sound again before +the train can start. Now you have nestled down, and your dear hands +are folded; let your two eyes be folded, too, my sweet; for in a +moment you shall be rocked away, and away, away into the golden mists +of Balow! + +"Ting-long! Ting-a-long! Ting-long!" + +"All aboard!" + +"Toot! Toot! Toot!" + +And so my little golden apple is off and away for Shut-Eye Town! + +Slowly moveth the train, yet faster by degrees. Your hands are folded, +my beloved, and your dear eyes they are closed; and yet you see the +beauteous sights that skirt the journey through the mists of Balow. +And it is rockaway, rockaway, rockaway, that your speeding cradle +goes,--rockaway, rockaway, rockaway, through the golden glories that +lie in the path that leadeth to Shut-Eye Town. + +"Toot! Toot!" + +So crieth the whistle, and it is "down-brakes," for here we are at +Ginkville, and every little one knoweth that pleasant waking-place, +where mother with her gentle hands holdeth the gracious cup to her +sleepy darling's lips. + +[Illustration: "Nestle down close, fold your hands, and shut your dear +eyes!"] + +"Ting-long! Ting-a-long! Ting-long!" and off is the train again. And +swifter and swifter it speedeth,--oh, I am sure no other train +speedeth half so swiftly! The sights my dear one sees! I cannot tell +of them--one must see those beauteous sights to know how wonderful +they are! + +"Shug-chug! Shug-chug! Shug-chug!" + +On and on and on the locomotive proudly whirleth the train. + +"Ting-long! Ting-a-long! Ting-long!" + +The bell calleth anon, but fainter and evermore fainter; and fainter +and fainter groweth that other calling--"Toot! Toot! Toot!"--till +finally I know that in that Shut-Eye Town afar my dear one dreameth +the dreams of Balow. + +This was the bedtime tale which I was wont to tell our little Mistress +Merciless, and at its end I looked upon her face to see it calm and +beautiful in sleep. + +Then was I wont to kneel beside her little bed and fold my two +hands,--thus,--and let my heart call to the host invisible: "O +guardian angels of this little child, hold her in thy keeping from all +the perils of darkness and the night! O sovereign Shepherd, cherish +Thy little lamb and mine, and, Holy Mother, fold her to thy bosom and +thy love! But give her back to me,--when morning cometh, restore ye +unto me my little one!" + +But once she came not back. She had spoken much of Master Sweetheart +and of that land of Ever-Plaisance whither he had gone. And she was +not afeard to make the journey alone; so once upon a time when our +little Mistress Merciless bade us good-by, and went away forever, we +knew that it were better so; for she was lonely here, and without her +that far-distant country whither she journeyed were not content. +Though our hearts were like to break for love of her, we knew that it +were better so. + +The tale is told, for it were not seemly to speak all the things that +are in one's heart when one hath to say of a much-beloved child whose +life here hath been shortened so that, in God's wisdom and kindness, +her life shall be longer in that garden that bloometh far away. + +About me are scattered the toys she loved, and the doll Beautiful hath +come down all-battered and grim,--yet, oh! so very precious to me, +from those distant years; yonder fareth the Queen of Sheba in her +service as handmaiden unto me and mine,--gaunt and doleful-eyed, yet +stanch and sturdy as of old. The garden lieth under the Christmas +snow,--the garden where ghosts of trees wave their arms and moan over +the graves of flowers; the once gracious arbor is crippled now with +the infirmities of age, the Siege of Restfulness fast sinketh into +decay, and long, oh! long ago did that bird Joyous carol forth his +last sweet song in the garden that was once so passing fair. + +And amid it all,--this heartache and the loneliness which the years +have brought,--cometh my Christmas gift to-day: the solace of a vision +of that country whither she--our little Mistress Merciless--hath gone; +a glimpse of that far-off land of Ever-Plaisance. + + + + +BETHLEHEM-TOWN + + + As I was going to Bethlehem-town, + Upon the earth I cast me down + All underneath a little tree + That whispered in this wise to me: + "Oh, I shall stand on Calvary + And bear what burthen saveth thee!" + + As up I fared to Bethlehem-town, + I met a shepherd coming down, + And thus he quoth: "A wondrous sight + Hath spread before mine eyes this night,-- + An angel host most fair to see, + That sung full sweetly of a tree + That shall uplift on Calvary + What burthen saveth you and me!" + + And as I gat to Bethlehem-town, + Lo! wise men came that bore a crown. + "Is there," cried I, "in Bethlehem + A King shall wear this diadem?" + "Good sooth," they quoth, "and it is He + That shall be lifted on the tree + And freely shed on Calvary + What blood redeemeth us and thee!" + + Unto a Child in Bethlehem-town + The wise men came and brought the crown; + And while the infant smiling slept, + Upon their knees they fell and wept; + But, with her babe upon her knee, + Naught recked that Mother of the tree, + That should uplift on Calvary + What burthen saveth all and me. + + Again I walk in Bethlehem-town + And think on Him that wears the crown. + I may not kiss His feet again, + Nor worship Him as did I then; + My King hath died upon the tree, + And hath outpoured on Calvary + What blood redeemeth you and me! + +[Illustration: + But, with her babe upon her knee, + Naught recked that Mother of the tree. +] + + + + +THE FIRST CHRISTMAS TREE + + +Once upon a time the forest was in a great commotion. Early in the +evening the wise old cedars had shaken their heads ominously and +predicted strange things. They had lived in the forest many, many +years; but never had they seen such marvellous sights as were to be +seen now in the sky, and upon the hills, and in the distant village. + +"Pray tell us what you see," pleaded a little vine; "we who are not as +tall as you can behold none of these wonderful things. Describe them +to us, that we may enjoy them with you." + +"I am filled with such amazement," said one of the cedars, "that I can +hardly speak. The whole sky seems to be aflame, and the stars appear +to be dancing among the clouds; angels walk down from heaven to the +earth, and enter the village or talk with the shepherds upon the +hills." + +The vine listened in mute astonishment. Such things never before had +happened. The vine trembled with excitement. Its nearest neighbor was +a tiny tree, so small it scarcely ever was noticed; yet it was a very +beautiful little tree, and the vines and ferns and mosses and other +humble residents of the forest loved it dearly. + +"How I should like to see the angels!" sighed the little tree, "and +how I should like to see the stars dancing among the clouds! It must +be very beautiful." + +As the vine and the little tree talked of these things, the cedars +watched with increasing interest the wonderful scenes over and beyond +the confines of the forest. Presently they thought they heard music, +and they were not mistaken, for soon the whole air was full of the +sweetest harmonies ever heard upon earth. + +"What beautiful music!" cried the little tree. "I wonder whence it +comes." + +"The angels are singing," said a cedar; "for none but angels could +make such sweet music." + +"But the stars are singing, too," said another cedar; "yes, and the +shepherds on the hills join in the song, and what a strangely glorious +song it is!" + +The trees listened to the singing, but they did not understand its +meaning: it seemed to be an anthem, and it was of a Child that had +been born; but further than this they did not understand. The strange +and glorious song continued all the night; and all that night the +angels walked to and fro, and the shepherd-folk talked with the +angels, and the stars danced and carolled in high heaven. And it was +nearly morning when the cedars cried out, "They are coming to the +forest! the angels are coming to the forest!" And, surely enough, this +was true. The vine and the little tree were very terrified, and they +begged their older and stronger neighbors to protect them from harm. +But the cedars were too busy with their own fears to pay any heed to +the faint pleadings of the humble vine and the little tree. The +angels came into the forest, singing the same glorious anthem about +the Child, and the stars sang in chorus with them, until every part of +the woods rang with echoes of that wondrous song. There was nothing in +the appearance of this angel host to inspire fear; they were clad all +in white, and there were crowns upon their fair heads, and golden +harps in their hands; love, hope, charity, compassion, and joy beamed +from their beautiful faces, and their presence seemed to fill the +forest with a divine peace. The angels came through the forest to +where the little tree stood, and gathering around it, they touched it +with their hands, and kissed its little branches, and sang even more +sweetly than before. And their song was about the Child, the Child, +the Child that had been born. Then the stars came down from the skies +and danced and hung upon the branches of the tree, and they, too, sang +that song,--the song of the Child. And all the other trees and the +vines and the ferns and the mosses beheld in wonder; nor could they +understand why all these things were being done, and why this +exceeding honor should be shown the little tree. + +When the morning came the angels left the forest,--all but one angel, +who remained behind and lingered near the little tree. Then a cedar +asked: "Why do you tarry with us, holy angel?" And the angel answered: +"I stay to guard this little tree, for it is sacred, and no harm shall +come to it." + +The little tree felt quite relieved by this assurance, and it held up +its head more confidently than ever before. And how it thrived and +grew, and waxed in strength and beauty! The cedars said they never had +seen the like. The sun seemed to lavish its choicest rays upon the +little tree, heaven dropped its sweetest dew upon it, and the winds +never came to the forest that they did not forget their rude manners +and linger to kiss the little tree and sing it their prettiest songs. +No danger ever menaced it, no harm threatened; for the angel never +slept,--through the day and through the night the angel watched the +little tree and protected it from all evil. Oftentimes the trees +talked with the angel; but of course they understood little of what he +said, for he spoke always of the Child who was to become the Master; +and always when thus he talked, he caressed the little tree, and +stroked its branches and leaves, and moistened them with his tears. It +all was so very strange that none in the forest could understand. + +So the years passed, the angel watching his blooming charge. Sometimes +the beasts strayed toward the little tree and threatened to devour its +tender foliage; sometimes the woodman came with his axe, intent upon +hewing down the straight and comely thing; sometimes the hot, +consuming breath of drought swept from the south, and sought to blight +the forest and all its verdure: the angel kept them from the little +tree. Serene and beautiful it grew, until now it was no longer a +little tree, but the pride and glory of the forest. + +One day the tree heard some one coming through the forest. Hitherto +the angel had hastened to its side when men approached; but now the +angel strode away and stood under the cedars yonder. + +"Dear angel," cried the tree, "can you not hear the footsteps of some +one approaching? Why do you leave me?" + +"Have no fear," said the angel; "for He who comes is the Master." + +The Master came to the tree and beheld it. He placed His hands upon +its smooth trunk and branches, and the tree was thrilled with a +strange and glorious delight. Then He stooped and kissed the tree, and +then He turned and went away. + +Many times after that the Master came to the forest, and when He came +it always was to where the tree stood. Many times He rested beneath +the tree and enjoyed the shade of its foliage, and listened to the +music of the wind as it swept through the rustling leaves. Many times +He slept there, and the tree watched over Him, and the forest was +still, and all its voices were hushed. And the angel hovered near like +a faithful sentinel. + +Ever and anon men came with the Master to the forest, and sat with Him +in the shade of the tree, and talked with Him of matters which the +tree never could understand; only it heard that the talk was of love +and charity and gentleness, and it saw that the Master was beloved and +venerated by the others. It heard them tell of the Master's goodness +and humility,--how He had healed the sick and raised the dead and +bestowed inestimable blessings wherever He walked. And the tree loved +the Master for His beauty and His goodness; and when He came to the +forest it was full of joy, but when He came not it was sad. And the +other trees of the forest joined in its happiness and its sorrow, for +they, too, loved the Master. And the angel always hovered near. + +The Master came one night alone into the forest, and His face was pale +with anguish and wet with tears, and He fell upon His knees and +prayed. The tree heard Him, and all the forest was still, as if it +were standing in the presence of death. And when the morning came, +lo! the angel had gone. + +[Illustration: "They are killing me!" cried the tree.] + +Then there was a great confusion in the forest. There was a sound of +rude voices, and a clashing of swords and staves. Strange men +appeared, uttering loud oaths and cruel threats, and the tree was +filled with terror. It called aloud for the angel, but the angel came +not. + +"Alas," cried the vine, "they have come to destroy the tree, the pride +and glory of the forest!" + +The forest was sorely agitated, but it was in vain. The strange men +plied their axes with cruel vigor, and the tree was hewn to the +ground. Its beautiful branches were cut away and cast aside, and its +soft, thick foliage was strewn to the tenderer mercies of the winds. + +"They are killing me!" cried the tree; "why is not the angel here to +protect me?" + +But no one heard the piteous cry,--none but the other trees of the +forest; and they wept, and the little vine wept too. + +Then the cruel men dragged the despoiled and hewn tree from the +forest, and the forest saw that beauteous thing no more. + +But the night wind that swept down from the City of the Great King +that night to ruffle the bosom of distant Galilee, tarried in the +forest awhile to say that it had seen that day a cross upraised on +Calvary,--the tree on which was stretched the body of the dying +Master. + + + + +STAR OF THE EAST + + + Star of the East, that long ago + Brought wise men on their way + Where, angels singing to and fro, + The Child of Bethlehem lay-- + Above that Syrian hill afar + Thou shinest out to-night, O Star! + +[Illustration: + To seek that manger out and lay + Our gifts before the child-- + To bring our hearts and offer them + Unto our King in Bethlehem! +] + + Star of the East, the night were drear + But for the tender grace + That with thy glory comes to cheer + Earth's loneliest, darkest place; + For by that charity we see + Where there is hope for all and me. + + Star of the East! show us the way + In wisdom undefiled + To seek that manger out and lay + Our gifts before the child-- + To bring our hearts and offer them + Unto our King in Bethlehem! + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Christmas Tales and Christmas Verse, by +Eugene Field + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHRISTMAS TALES AND *** + +***** This file should be named 17630.txt or 17630.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/6/3/17630/ + +Produced by Jason Isbell, Sankar Viswanathan, and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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