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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/17770-8.txt b/17770-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..79a1af5 --- /dev/null +++ b/17770-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4785 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Christmas Stories And Legends, by Various + +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 Stories And Legends + +Author: Various + +Release Date: February 16, 2006 [EBook #17770] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHRISTMAS STORIES AND LEGENDS *** + + + + +Produced by Stacy Brown Thellend, Barbara Tozier, Bill +Tozier and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + +CHRISTMAS STORIES +AND LEGENDS + + +COMPILED BY +PHEBE A. CURTISS + +Author of "White Gifts +for the King" + + + + +MEIGS PUBLISHING CO. +INDIANAPOLIS, IND. + + +Copyright 1916 + +BY + +MEIGS PUBLISHING CO. +Indianapolis, Indiana + + + + +FOREWORD + + +No greater teaching force has ever been discovered than the story and +no one has ever lived who used that force so skillfully as did our +Great Teacher. + +It is not strange, then, that among all the stories that have ever +been written or told none are so dear to us as the stories and legends +which center in His birth. + +Young and old alike delight in them and never tire of hearing them. + +Unusual care has been taken in compiling this little volume and each +story has its own sweet lesson. Each one is from the pen of one who +has imbibed the real spirit of Christmas. They were chosen as being +particularly well adapted to use in connection with the Christmas +Service "White Gifts for the King," but they will prove attractive and +helpful at any time during the year. + +It is our earnest wish that this little book may find its way into +many homes and schools and Sunday Schools and that its contents may +help to give a deeper appreciation of the true Christmas spirit. + + + + +CONTENTS + + Page + I. The Legend of the "White Gifts"--Phebe A. Curtiss 9 + + II. Her Birthday Dream--Nellie C. King 13 + + III. The Fir Tree--Hans Andersen--adapted by J. H. Stickney 25 + + IV. The Little Match Girl--Hans Andersen 37 + + V. Little Piccola--Nora A. Smith 41 + + VI. The Shepherd's Story--Dr. Washington 47 + + VII. The Story of Christmas--Nora A. Smith 63 + + VIII. The Legend of the Christmas Tree--Lucy Wheelock 69 + + IX. Little Jean--French of Francois Coppe. Translated by + Nannie Lee Frayser 71 + + X. How the Fir Tree Became the Christmas Tree--Aunt Hede + in Kindergarten Magazine 77 + + XI. The Magi in the West and Their Search for the + Christ--Frederick E. Dewhurst 79 + + XII. Little Gretchen and the Wooden Shoe--Elizabeth + Harrison 93 + + XIII. The Little Shepherd--Maud Lindsay 105 + + XIV. Babouscka--Carolyn S. Bailey 109 + + XV. The Boy with the Box--May Griggs Van Voorhis 113 + + XVI. The Worker in Sandal wood--Marjorie L. C. Pickthall 125 + + XVII. The Shepherd Who Didn't Go--Jay T. Stocking 135 + +XVIII. Paulina's Christmas--Adapted from Anna Robinson's + "Little Paulina" 145 + + XIX. Unto Us a Child Is Born--Phebe A. Curtiss 153 + + XX. The Star--Florence M. Kingsley 159 + + + + +THE LEGEND OF THE "WHITE GIFTS" + +As Told by Phebe A. Curtiss + + +A great many years ago in a land far away from us there was a certain +king who was dearly beloved by all of his people. Men admired him +because he was strong and just. In all of his dealings they knew they +could depend upon him. Every matter that came to his consideration was +carefully weighed in his mind and his decisions were always wise. +Women trusted him because he was pure and true, with lofty thoughts +and high ambitions, and the children loved him because of his +gentleness and tenderness toward them. He was never so burdened with +affairs of state that he could not stop to speak a pleasant word of +greeting to the tiniest child, and the very poorest of his subjects +knew they could count upon his interest in them. + +This deep-seated love and reverence for their king made the people of +this country wish very much for a way in which to give expression to +it so that he would understand it. Many consultations were held and +one after another the plans suggested were rejected, but at last a +most happy solution was found. It was rapidly circulated here and +there and it met with the most hearty approval everywhere. + +It was a plan for celebrating the King's birthday. + +Of course, that had been done in many lands before, but there were +certain features about this celebration which differed materially from +anything that had ever been tried. They decided that on the King's +birthday the people should all bring him gifts, but they wanted in +some way to let him know that these gifts were the expression of a +love on the part of the giver which was pure and true and unselfish, +and in order to show that, it was decided that each gift should be a +"White Gift." + +The King heard about this beautiful plan, and it touched his heart in +a wonderful way. He decided that he would do his part to carry out the +idea and let his loving subjects know how much he appreciated their +thoughtfulness. + +You can just imagine the excitement there was all over the land as the +King's birthday drew near. All sorts of loving sacrifices had been +made and everyone was anxious to make his gift the very best he had to +offer. At last the day dawned, and eagerly the people came dressed in +white and carrying their white gifts. To their surprise they were +ushered into a great, big room--the largest one in the palace. They +stood in silence when they first entered it, for it was beautiful +beyond all expression. It was a _white_ room;--the floor was white +marble; the ceiling looked like a mass of soft, white fluffy clouds; +the walls were hung with beautiful white silken draperies, and all the +furnishings were white. In one end of the room stood a stately white +throne, and seated upon it was their beloved ruler and he was clad in +shining white robes, and his attendants--all dressed in white--were +grouped around him. + +Then came the presentation of the gifts. What a wealth of them there +was--and how different they were in value. In those days it was just +as it is now--there were many people who had great wealth, and they +brought gifts which were generous in proportion to their wealth. + +One brought a handful of pearls, another a number of carved ivories. +There were beautiful laces and silks and embroideries, all in pure +white, and even splendid white chargers were brought to his majesty. + +But many of the people were poor--some of them very poor--and their +gifts were quite different from those I have been telling about. Some +of the women brought handfuls of white rice, some of the boys brought +their favorite white pigeons, and one dear little girl smilingly gave +him a pure white rose. + +It was wonderful to watch the King as each one came and kneeled before +him as he presented his gift. He never seemed to notice whether the +gift was great or small; he regarded not one gift above another so +long as all were white. Never had the King been so happy as he was +that day and never had such real joy filled the hearts of the people. +They decided to use the same plan every year, and so it came to pass +that year after year on the King's birthday the people came from here +and there and everywhere and brought their white gifts--the gifts +which showed that their love was pure, strong, true and without stain, +and year after year the King sat in his white robes on the white +throne in the great white room and it was always the same--he regarded +not one gift above another so long as all were _white_. + + + + +HER BIRTHDAY DREAM[*] + +By Nellie C. King + + +Marcia Brownlow came out of the church, and walked rapidly down the +street. She seemed perturbed; her gray eyes flashed, and on her cheeks +glowed two red spots. She was glad she was not going home, so she +wouldn't have to take a car, but could walk the short distance to Aunt +Sophy's, where she had been invited to dine and visit with her special +chum, Cousin Jack--who was home from college for the short +Thanksgiving vacation. She slowed up as she reached her destination, +and waited a little before going in--she wanted to get calmed down a +bit, for she didn't want her friend to see her when she felt so "riled +up." Back of it was a secret reluctance to meet Jack--he was so +different since the Gipsy Smith revival; of course, he was perfectly +lovely, and unchanged toward her, but--somehow, she felt uncomfortable +in his presence--and she didn't enjoy having her self-satisfaction +disturbed. + +As she entered the dining-room, she was greeted with exclamations of +surprise and pleasure. + +"Why, Marcia!" said Aunt Sophia; "we had given you up! I almost never +knew of your being late in keeping an appointment." + +"You must excuse me, Auntie; and lay this offense to the charge of our +Sunday school superintendent," answered Marcia. + +"I suppose Mr. Robinson is laying his plans for Christmas," remarked +Uncle John. "He believes in taking time by the forelock--and a very +commendable habit it is, too." + +"Yes," answered Marcia laconically. + +Jack glanced at her keenly. "Is there anything new in the Christmas +line?" he asked. + +The gray eyes grew black, and the red spots burned again, as Marcia +replied: "Well, I should think so--he proposes to turn things +topsy-turvy!" + +"My! What does he want to do?" inquired Cousin Augusta. + +"Oh, he calls it the 'White Gift Christmas'; but the long and short of +the matter is, that he proposes to 'turn down' Santa Claus, and all +the old time-honored customs connected with Christmas that are so dear +to the hearts of the children, and have the school do the giving. He +has a big banner hung up in the Sunday school room bearing the words, +'Gifts for the Christ-Child'." + +"An excellent idea," exclaimed Uncle John, "but I don't see much of an +innovation about that; you have always made the children's giving a +part of your Christmas celebration, have you not?" + +"Certainly!" rejoined Marcia. "They have always brought their little +gifts for the poor, and that is all right; but this time there are no +gifts to the Sunday school at all." + +"Not even to the Primary School?" asked Augusta. + +"Well," admitted Marcia, "Mr. Robinson gave the children their choice +today, whether they would have the old Christmas or the 'White Gift +Christmas,' and they all voted for the new idea." + +"Why then should the children be obliged to have gifts, if they don't +want them?" laughed Augusta. + +"Oh, children are always taken with novelty, and Mr. Robinson told it +to them in such a way that fancy was captivated; but I don't think +they really understood what they were giving up." + +"Marcia, it seems to me that your are emphasizing the wrong side of +the subject if I understand it aright," said Jack. + +"Why, do you know about it?" asked Marcia, in surprise. + +"Not much," replied Jack; "but I read the White Gift story in the +'Sunday School Times,' and the report of the Painesville experiment." + +"Well, Jack, tell us what you know about this mysterious 'White +Gift'," commanded his father. + +"I would rather Marcia should tell it, father; I know so little." + +"Oh, go on, Jack," urged Marcia; "you can't possibly know less about +it than I do, for I confess I was so full of the disappointment of the +little ones that the other side of it didn't impress me very much." + +"Well, as I remember it," said Jack, "the gist of the plan is +this--that Christmas is Christ's birthday, and we should make our +gifts to him, instead of to one another; and the idea of the White +Gift was suggested by the story of the Persian king named Kublah Khan, +who was a wise and good ruler, and greatly beloved. On his birthday +his subjects kept what they called the 'White Feast.' This was +celebrated in an immense great white banqueting-hall, and each one of +his subjects brought to their king a white gift to express that the +love and loyalty of their hearts was without stain. The rich brought +white chargers, ivory and alabaster; the poor brought white pigeons, +or even a measure of rice; and the great king regarded all gifts +alike, so long as they were white. Have I told it right, cousin?" +queried Jack. + +"Yes, I think so. It is a beautiful thought, I must confess, and might +be all right in a large, rich Sunday school; but in a mission school +like ours I am sure it will be a failure. It will end in our losing +our scholars. I don't believe in taking up new ideas without +considering whether they are adapted to our needs or not. But please, +dear folkses, don't let us say anything more about it," pleaded +Marcia, and so the subject was dropped. + +That evening as Jack Thornton bade his cousin good-bye, he placed in +her hand a little package, saying: "I am so sorry, Marcia, that I +can't be here for your birthday, but here is my remembrance. Now don't +you dare open it before Tuesday, and, dear, you may be sure it is a +'white gift,' and may you have a 'white birthday'." And before she +could say a word, he had opened the door, and was gone. + +Touched by his thoughtful gift and his words, she said to herself: "A +'white birthday!' I always have perfectly beautiful birthdays." And so +she did; for she was always looking out for other people's birthdays, +and making much of them; and so she always got the gospel measure: +"Give, and it shall be given unto you; good measure, pressed down, and +shaken together, and running over, shall man give into your bosom." + +But these thoughts were crowded out by the pressure of things to be +done--father and mother had gone into the country to visit a sick +friend, and the younger brothers and sisters surrounded her and +clamored for songs and Bible stories, and as she was a good older +sister she devoted herself to them until their bedtime. Then, turning +out the lights, she sat down in an easy chair before the library +grate, and yielded herself to the spell of the quiet hour. The +strained, irritated nerves relaxed, and a strange, sweet peace stole +over her. As she gazed dreamily into the fire, a star seemed to rise +out of the glowing coals, and beam at her with a beautiful soft +radiance, and the words of the Evangel came into her mind: "And when +they saw the star, they rejoiced with exceeding joy; and when they +were come into the house they saw the young child, with Mary his +mother, and they fell down and worshipped him; and when they had +opened their treasures they presented unto him gifts, gold, +frankincense and myrrh." She repeated the words over and over to +herself. How simple and restful they were; how direct and genuine and +satisfying was this old-time giving! There it was--Gifts for the +Christ-Child--"They presented unto him gifts, gold, frankincense and +myrrh." She remembered reading somewhere that the gold represented our +earthly possessions, the frankincense typified our service and the +myrrh our suffering for his sake. + +As she gazed into the fire, and mused, she fell asleep, and all these +thoughts were woven into the fabric of a dream--and who shall say that +God does not speak to his children still in dreams? + +She dreamed that it was the morning of her birthday. She heard cheery +voices in the hall calling out to one another: "This is Marcia's +birthday. Wish you many returns of the day!" There was an excited +running to and fro between the different rooms, and gleeful +exclamations--but no one came near her! She sat up in bed listening, +and wondering what it could mean! Why, mother always came into her +room, and folded her to her heart, and said those precious things that +only a mother can say; and the children always scrambled to see who +should be the first to give sister a birthday kiss. Were they playing +some joke on her? She would be quiet and watch, and so not be taken +unawares. + +Presently they went trooping happily downstairs into the dining-room, +and she heard father's voice say: "Good morning, children; I wish you +many happy returns of Marcia's birthday." + +What did it all mean? Was she going crazy? Or were they just going to +surprise her by some novel way of celebrating her birthday? She arose, +and with trembling fingers dressed herself hastily, and stole softly +down the stairs, and looked into the dining-room. Hush!--father was +asking a blessing. He returned thanks for dear Marcia's birthday, and +asked that it should be a happy day for them all. Beside each plate +save her own, were various packages; and these were opened amid +ejaculations of surprise and pleasure, and sundry hugs and kisses. + +After the first burst of happiness had subsided, Marcia braced herself +and entered the dining-room, saying with forced gayety: "Good morning, +dear ones all." They looked up with blank, unanswering faces, and +said: "Good morning, Marcia"--that was all. But Marcia's heart leaped +at the recognition of her presence, for she had begun to fear that she +was dead, and that it was her spirit that was wandering about. + +She stooped and kissed her mother, who murmured abstractedly, "Yes, +dear," never once looking up from the presents she was examining. With +a sinking heart she turned away from her mother and went and stood +behind her father's chair, and leaning over whispered in his ear: +"Dear father, have you forgotten that this is my birthday?" He +answered kindly but absent-mindedly: "Why, daughter, am I likely to +forget it with all these tokens around me?"--and he waved his hand +toward the gifts piled around his plate. This was almost more than +Marcia could bear, for father was always specially tender and +attentive to her on her birthday. She always sat on his knee a while; +and he told her what a joy and comfort she was to him, and he always +paid her some pretty compliment that made her girlish heart swell with +innocent pride, for every girl knows that compliments from one's +father are a little sweeter than any others. + +In vain she hung around waiting for some clue to this mysterious, +unnatural conduct of the family. They were all absorbed in plans for +spending this birthday--Marcia's birthday, but no reference whatever +was made to what she liked; no one consulted her as to what she wanted +to do, or to have done. The boys were going skating in the forenoon; +the little girls were to invite four of their friends to help serve +the first dinner in the new doll's house, and in the afternoon father +would take them all for an automobile ride into the country to a dear +friend's--all but Marcia, who couldn't bear to get into an auto since +a terrible accident she had been in a few weeks ago. A troop of her +girl friends came in, and in a conventional way wished her "many happy +returns" of the day; and then proceeded to ignore her, and gave gifts +to other members of the family. "It is a wonder," thought Marcia, +bitterly, "that they didn't have a birthday party for Marcia with +Marcia left out." + +And so it went on all through that strange, miserable day; while they +were all busy celebrating her birthday, she herself was neglected and +ignored as she sat in the quiet house alone in the twilight--for she +had no heart to light the gas--just homesick for the personal love +which had characterized all her birthdays and all her home life +heretofore, there came a timid knock on the door, and as Marcia opened +it, there stood little crippled Joe, one of her scholars in the +Mission Sunday school. As he saw her, he gave a little exclamation of +surprise and delight, and said: "O Miss Marshay! I hearn last night +'twas yer berthday today, an' I wanted to guv yer suthin' white, like +Mr. Robinson he told us 'bout, don't yer know?--an' 'caus yer has +allers treated me so white--'n'--'n' I didn't hev nuthin', 'n so I +axed Him, ye know, what yer telled us 'bout in Sunday school--Jesus; +who died on the cross, and who's allers willin' to help a poor +feller--an' I axed Him to help me get suthin' real nice 'n' white fer +uer birthday; 'n I kep' me eyes peeled all day 'xpectin' it, 'n just +now a reel swell feller buyed a paper of me, 'n then he guv he this +here bunch uv white sweet smellin' posies, 'thout my sayin' a word. +Here they be, Miss Marshay fer yer. Giminy, teacher, ain't them purty? +An' O, teacher--He made 'm in the fust place 'n had the man guv them +to me, 'n so I reckon He 'n me's pardners in this here white gift +bizness." And he held up in his thin, grimy hand a bunch of white, +sweet-scented violets. + +Marcia's first impulse was to catch up the little fellow and his gift +in her arms, and baptize them with a flood of tears from her own +overcharged heart! But she hadn't taught boys in a Mission Sunday +school class for nothing--Joe would have thought she had gone crazy, +or been struck silly, or was sick unto death; so she controlled +herself, and kneeling beside him took the violets reverently in both +her hands, saying in a choked voice: "Joe, they are just beautiful! +This is the only really truly white gift I have had today, and I don't +deserve it--but I thank Him and you." + +The boy looked at her with shining face, drew his hand across his +eyes, and then answered brightly: "Oh, that's all right, Miss Marshay; +'tenny rate 'tis with me, 'n' I reckon 'tis with Him"--and seizing his +crutch, he hopped like a little sparrow through the door and onto the +street, and she heard his boyish voice calling out: "Evenin' papers, +last edishun--all 'bout the big graft 'sposure." + +Just then the big white touring car discharged its merry load at the +door, and the house was filled with the chatter and laughter of the +children. In vain she tried to find a quiet corner where she could be +alone with her heart--it was impossible to escape from the hilarious +celebration of her birthday. She was so glad when the children said +good-night and went off to bed, and she could seek the quiet of her +own room. + +As she bade her father good night, he said: "Well, daughter, I hope +you have enjoyed your birthday and all your gifts?" + +At this all the honesty of her nature, all the hatred of sham, rose up +in one indignant outburst, and she exclaimed: "I have had no gifts, +neither has this been my birthday celebration." + +"Why, Marcia!" said her father in an aggrieved tone, "this certainly +is your birthday, and we have been very happy in keeping it for love +of you." + +"I have failed to see any manifestation of love to me," retorted +Marcia. "You may have had a happy time, but I have not been in it; you +have given gifts to one another, but I have had just one"--and she +held up the bunch of violets. "This is a gift of love from little lame +Joe, in answer to his prayer, and in pity for my hungry heart." + +There was silence in the room for a moment, and then her father +answered: "It seems to me, daughter, that when you get right down to a +personal application, what you believe in after all is a 'white +birthday'." + +The words went through her like an electric shock, and with a start +she awoke, and sat upright in her chair; and, lo, it was all a dream! + +Marcia looked around the room, shook herself a little, stirred the +fire, and put on fresh coal. She laughed at the remembrance of her +dream, and its absurdity! How glad she was that it was only a dream! +But was it only a dream? Was it not a reality? Was not this the way +she had kept the Lord's birthday? When she had opened her Christmas +treasure, how much had been given Him and for love of Him? How large a +place had she given Him in the season's activity? Had she ever made +room for Him as the central figure of it all; or had he been crowded +out, and His rightful place given to Santa Claus and the world's +merry-making? + +In the light of the Spirit she saw that the Star of Bethlehem always +leads to the cross of Calvary. She had never liked to think about the +cross before, but now it was all illumined with the glory of the love +which gave to us God's best, his only begotten Son. She remembered how +the Lord Jesus had said: "If I be lifted up, I will draw all men unto +Me." She saw that it is as we see Christ on the cross for us that we +are drawn to Him. + +In that still hour, on her knees, at the foot of the cross, Marcia +with great gladness made her first "White Gift" unto her Lord--she +gave HERSELF to Him. + +[*] By permission of the author and the publisher, Pittsburgh +Christian Advocate. + + + + +THE FIR TREE[*] + +Adapted by J. H. Stickney + + +Far away in the forest, where the warm sun and the fresh air made a +sweet resting place, grew a pretty little fir tree. The situation was +all that could be desired; and yet it was not happy, it wished so +much to be like its tall companions, the pines and firs which grew +around it. + +The sun shone, and the soft air fluttered its leaves, and the little +peasant children passed by, prattling merrily; but the fir tree did +not heed them. + +Sometimes the children would bring a large basket of raspberries or +strawberries, wreathed in straws, and seat themselves near the fir +tree, and say, "Is it not a pretty little tree?" which made it feel +even more unhappy than before. + +And yet all this while the tree grew a notch or joint taller every +year; for by the number of joints in the stem of a fir tree we can +discover its age. + +Still, as it grew, it complained: "Oh! how I wish I were as tall as +the other trees; then I would spread out my branches on every side, +and my crown would overlook the wide world around. I should have the +birds building their nests on my boughs, and when the wind blew, I +should bow with stately dignity, like my tall companions." + +So discontented was the tree, that it took no pleasure in the warm +sunshine, the birds, or the rosy clouds that floated over it morning +and evening. + +Sometimes in winter, when the snow lay white and glittering on the +ground, there was a little hare that would come springing along, +and jump right over the little tree's head; then how mortified it +would feel. + +Two winters passed; and when the third arrived, the tree had grown so +tall that the hare was obliged to run round it. Yet it remained +unsatisfied, and would exclaim, "Oh! to grow, to grow; if I could but +keep on growing tall and old! There is nothing else worth caring for +in the world." + +In the autumn the woodcutters came, as usual, and cut down several of +the tallest trees; and the young fir, which was now grown to its full +height, shuddered as the noble trees fell to the earth with a crash. + +After the branches were lopped off, the trunks looked so slender and +bare that they could scarcely be recognized. Then they were placed, +one upon another, upon wagons, and drawn by horses out of the forest. +"Where could they be going? What would become of them?" The young fir +tree wished very much to know. + +So in the spring, when the swallows and the storks came, it asked, "Do +you know where those trees were taken? Did you meet them?" + +The swallows knew nothing; but the stork, after a little reflection, +nodded his head, and said, "Yes, I think I do. As I flew from Egypt, I +saw several new ships, and they had fine masts that smelt like fir. +These must have been the trees; and I assure you they were stately; +they sailed right gloriously!" + +"Oh, how I wish I were tall enough to go on the sea," said the fir +tree. "Tell me what is this sea, and what does it look like?" + +"It would take too much time to explain, a great deal too much," said +the stork, flying quickly away. + +"Rejoice in thy youth," said the sunbeam; "rejoice in thy fresh +growth, and in the young life that is in thee." + +And the wind kissed the tree, and the dew watered it with tears; but +the fir tree regarded them not. + +Christmas time drew near, and many young trees were cut down, some +that were even smaller and younger than the fir tree, who enjoyed +neither rest nor peace with longing to leave its forest home. These +young trees, which were chosen for their beauty, kept their branches, +and were also laid on wagons, and drawn by horses far away out of the +forest. + +"Where are they going?" asked the fir tree. "They are not taller than +I am; indeed, one is not so tall. And why do they keep all their +branches? Where are they going?" + +"We know, we know," sang the sparrows; "we have looked in at the +windows of the houses in the town, and we know what is done with them. +Oh! you cannot think what honor and glory they receive. They are +dressed up in the most splendid manner. We have seen them standing in +the middle of a warm room, and adorned with all sorts of beautiful +things;--honey cakes, gilded apples, playthings, and many hundreds of +wax tapers." + +"And then," asked the fir tree, trembling in all its branches, "and +then what happens?" + +"We did not see any more," said the sparrows; "but this was enough +for us." + +"I wonder whether anything so brilliant will ever happen to me," +thought the fir tree. "It would be better even than crossing the sea. +I long for it almost with pain. Oh, when will Christmas be here? I am +now as tall and well grown as those which were taken away last year. +Oh, that I were now laid on the wagon, or standing in the warm room, +with all that brightness and splendor around me! Something better and +more beautiful is to come after, or the trees would not be so decked +out. Yes, what follows will be grander and more splendid. What can it +be? I am weary with longing. I scarcely know what it is that I feel." + +"Rejoice in our love," said the air and the sunlight. "Enjoy thine own +bright life in the fresh air." + +But the tree would not rejoice, though it grew taller every day and, +winter and summer, its dark green foliage might be seen in the +forests, while passersby would say, "What a beautiful tree!" + +A short time before Christmas the discontented fir tree was the first +to fall. As the axe cut sharply through the stem, and divided the +pith, the tree fell with a groan to the earth, conscious of pain and +faintness, and forgetting all its dreams of happiness, in sorrow at +leaving its home in the forest. It knew that it should never again see +its dear old companions, the trees, nor the little bushes and +many-colored flowers that had grown by its side; perhaps not even the +birds. Nor was the journey at all pleasant. + +The tree first recovered itself while being unpacked in the courtyard +of a house, with several other trees; and it heard a man say, "We +only want one, and this is the prettiest. This is beautiful!" + +Then came two servants in grand livery, and carried the fir tree into +a large and beautiful apartment. Pictures hung on the walls, and near +the great stove stood great china vases, with lions on the lids. There +were rocking chairs, silken sofas, large tables covered with pictures, +books, and playthings that had cost a hundred times a hundred dollars; +at least so said the children. + +Then the fir tree was placed in a large tub, full of sand; but green +baize hung all around it, so that no one could know it was a tub; and +it stood on a very handsome carpet. Oh, how the fir tree trembled! +What was going to happen to him now? Some young ladies came in, and +the servants helped them to adorn the tree. + +On one branch they hung little bags cut out of colored paper, and each +bag was filled with sweetmeats. From other branches hung gilded apples +and walnuts, and all around were hundreds of red, blue and white +tapers, which were fastened upon the branches. Dolls, exactly like +real men and women, were placed under the green leaves,--and the tree +had never seen such things before,--and at the top was fastened a +glittering star, made of gold tinsel. Oh, it was very beautiful. "This +evening," they all exclaimed, "how bright it will be!" + +"Oh, that the evening were come," thought the tree, "and the tapers +lighted! Then I should know what else is going to happen. Will the +trees of the forest come to see me? Will the sparrows peep in at the +windows, I wonder, as they fly? Shall I grow faster here, and keep on +all these ornaments during summer and winter?" But guessing was of +very little use. His back ached with trying; and this pain is as bad +for a slender fir tree as headache is for us. + +At last the tapers were lighted, and then what a glistening blaze of +splendor the tree presented! It trembled so with joy in all its +branches, that one of the candles fell among the green leaves and +burnt some of them. "Help! help!" exclaimed the young ladies; but +there was no danger, for they quickly extinguished the fire. + +After this the tree tried not to tremble at all, though the fire +frightened him, he was so anxious not to hurt any of the beautiful +ornaments, even while their brilliancy dazzled him. + +And now the folding doors were thrown open, and a troop of children +rushed in as if they intended to upset the tree, and were followed +more slowly by their elders. For a moment the little ones stood silent +with astonishment, and then they shouted for joy till the room rang; +and they danced merrily round the tree, while one present after +another was taken from it. + +"What are they doing? What will happen next?" thought the tree. At +last the candles burned down to the branches, and were put out. Then +the children received permission to plunder the tree. + +Oh, how they rushed upon it! There was such a riot that the branches +cracked, and had it not been fastened with the glistening star to the +ceiling, it must have been thrown down. + +Then the children danced about with their pretty toys, and no one +noticed the tree, except the children's maid, who came and peeped +among the branches to see if an apple or a fig had been forgotten. + +"A story, a story," cried the children, pulling a little fat man +toward the tree. + +"Now we shall be in green shade," said the man, as he seated himself +under it, "and the tree will have the pleasure of hearing also; but I +shall only relate one story. What shall it be? Ivede-Avede, or +Humpty-Dumpty, who fell down stairs, but soon got up again, and at +last married a princess?" + +"Ivede-Avede," cried some. "Humpty-Dumpty," cried others; and there +was a famous uproar. But the fir tree remained quite still, and +thought to himself, "Shall I have anything to do with all this? Ought +I to make a noise too?" but he had already amused them as much as they +wished. + +Then the old man told them the story of Humpty-Dumpty;--how he fell +downstairs and was raised up again, and married a princess. And the +children clapped their hands and cried "Tell another, tell another," +for they wanted to hear the story of Ivede-Avede; but this time they +had only Humpty-Dumpty. After this the fir tree became quite silent +and thoughtful. Never had the birds in the forest told such tales as +Humpty-Dumpty who fell down stairs, and yet married a princess. + +"Ah, yes! so it happens in the world," thought the fir tree. He +believed it all, because it was related by such a pleasant man. + +"Ah, well!" he thought, "who knows? Perhaps I may fall down too and +marry a princess;" and he looked forward joyfully to the next evening, +expecting to be again decked out with lights and playthings, gold and +fruit. "Tomorrow I will not tremble," thought he; "I will enjoy all my +splendor, and I shall hear the story of Humpty-Dumpty again, and +perhaps Ivede-Avede." And the tree remained quiet and thoughtful all +night. + +In the morning the servants and the housemaid came in. "Now," thought +the fir tree, "all my splendor is going to begin again." But they +dragged him out of the room and upstairs to the garret and threw him +on the floor, in a dark corner where no daylight shone, and there they +left him. "What does this mean?" thought the tree. "What am I to do +here? I can hear nothing in a place like this;" and he leaned against +the wall and thought and thought. + +And he had time enough to think, for days and nights passed, and no +one came near him; and when at last somebody did come, it was only to +push away some large boxes in a corner. So the tree was completely +hidden from sight as if it had never existed. + +"It is winter now," thought the tree; "the ground is hard and covered +with snow, so that people cannot plant me. I shall be sheltered here, +I dare say, until spring comes. How thoughtful and kind everybody is +to me! Still, I wish this place were not so dark and so dreadfully +lonely, with not even a little hare to look at. How pleasant it was +out in the forest while the snow lay on the ground, when the hare +would run by, yes, and jump over me too, although I did not like it +then. Oh! it is terribly lonely here." + +"Squeak, squeak," said a little mouse, creeping cautiously towards the +tree; then came another, and they both sniffed at the fir tree, and +crept in and out between the branches. + +"Oh, it is very cold here," said the little mouse. "If it were not, we +would be very comfortable here, wouldn't we, old fir tree?" + +"I am not old," said the fir tree. "There are many who are older than +I am." + +"Where do you come from?" asked the mice, who were full of curiosity; +"and what do you know? Have you seen the most beautiful places in the +world, and can you tell us all about them? And have you been in the +storeroom, where cheeses lie on the shelf and hams hang from the +ceiling? One can run about on tallow candles there; one can go in thin +and come out fat." + +"I know nothing of that," said the fir tree; "but I know the wood +where the sun shines and the birds sing." And then the tree told the +little mice all about its youth. They had never heard such an account +in their lives; and after they had listened to it attentively, they +said, "What a number of things you have seen! You must have been very +happy." + +"Happy!" exclaimed the fir tree; and then, as he reflected on what he +had been telling them, he said, "Ah, yes! after all, those were happy +days." But when he went on and related all about Christmas eve, and +how he had been dressed up with cakes and lights, the mice said, "How +happy you must have been, you old fir tree." + +"I am not old at all," replied the tree; "I only came from the forest +this winter. I am now checked in my growth." + +"What splendid stories you can tell," said the little mice. And the +next night four other mice came with them to hear what the tree had to +tell. The more he talked, the more he remembered, and then he thought +to himself, "Yes, those were happy days; but they may come again. +Humpty-Dumpty fell downstairs, and yet he married a princess. Perhaps +I may marry a princess too." And the fir tree thought of the pretty +little birch tree that grew in the forest; a real princess, a +beautiful princess, she was to him. + +"Who is Humpty-Dumpty?" asked the little mice. And then the tree +related the whole story; he could remember every single word. And the +little mice were so delighted with it, that they were ready to jump to +the top of the tree. The next night a great many more mice made their +appearance, and on Sunday two rats came with them; but they said it +was not a pretty story at all, and the little mice were very sorry, +for it made them also think less of it. + +"Do you know only that one story?" asked the rats. + +"Only that one," replied the fir tree. "I heard it on the happiest +evening of my life; but I did not know I was so happy at the time." + +"We think it is a very miserable story," said the rats. "Don't you +know any story about bacon or tallow in the storeroom?" + +"No," replied the tree. + +"Many thanks to you, then," replied the rats, and they went their +ways. + +The little mice also kept away after this, and the tree sighed and +said, "It was very pleasant when the merry little mice sat around me +and listened while I talked. Now that is all past too. However, I +shall consider myself happy when someone comes to take me out of this +place." + +But would this ever happen? Yes; one morning people came to clear up +the garret; the boxes were packed away, and the tree was pulled out of +the corner and thrown roughly on the floor; then the servants dragged +it out upon the staircase where the daylight shone. + +"Now life is beginning again," said the tree, rejoicing in the +sunshine and fresh air. Then it was carried downstairs and taken into +the courtyard so quickly that it forgot to think of itself, and could +only look about, there was so much to be seen. + +The court was close to a garden, where everything looked blooming. +Fresh and fragrant roses hung over the little palings. The linden +trees were in blossom; while the swallows flew here and there crying, +"Twit, twit, twit, my mate is coming;" but it was not the fir tree +they meant. + +"Now I shall live," cried the tree joyfully, spreading out its +branches; but alas! they were all withered and yellow, and it lay in a +corner amongst weeds and nettles. The star of gold paper still stuck +in the top of the tree, and glittered in the sunshine. + +In the same courtyard two of the merry children were playing who had +danced round the tree at Christmas time and had been so happy. The +youngest saw the gilded star and ran and pulled it off the tree. "Look +what is sticking to the ugly old fir tree," said the child, treading +on the branches till they crackled under his boots. + +And the tree saw all the fresh, bright flowers in the garden, and +then looked at itself, and wished it had remained in the dark corner +of the garret. It thought of its fresh youth in the forest, of the +merry Christmas evening, and of the little mice who had listened to +the story of Humpty-Dumpty. + +"Past! past!" said the poor tree. "Oh, had I but enjoyed myself while +I could have done so! but now it is too late." + +Then a lad came and chopped the tree into small pieces, till a large +bundle lay in a heap on the ground. The pieces were placed in the +fire, and they blazed up brightly, while the tree sighed so deeply +that each sigh was like a little pistol shot. Then the children, who +were at play, came and seated themselves in front of the fire and +looked at it, and cried, "Pop, pop." But at each "pop," which was a +deep sigh, the tree was thinking of a summer day in the forest, or of +some winter night there when the stars shone brightly, and of +Christmas evening and of Humpty-Dumpty, the only story it had ever +heard, or knew how to relate,--till at last it was consumed. + +The boys still played in the garden, and the youngest wore the golden +star on his breast with which the tree had been adorned during the +happiest evening of its existence. Now all was past; the tree's life +was past, and the story also past! for all stories must come to an end +some time or other. + +[*] From "Hans Andersen's Fairy Tales," adapted by J. H. Stickney. By +permission of the publishers--Ginn and Company. + + + + +THE LITTLE MATCH GIRL[*] + +Hans Andersen + + +It was dreadfully cold; it was snowing fast, and was almost dark, as +evening came on--the last evening of the year. In the cold and the +darkness, there went along the street a poor little girl, bareheaded +and with naked feet. When she left home she had slippers on, it is +true; but they were much too large for her feet,--slippers that her +mother had used until then, and the poor little girl lost them in +running across the street when two carriages were passing terribly +fast. When she looked for them, one was not to be found, and a boy +seized the other and ran away with it, saying he would use it for a +cradle some day, when he had children of his own. + +So on the little girl went with her bare feet, that were red and blue +with cold. In an old apron that she wore were bundles of matches, and +she carried a bundle also in her hand. No one had bought so much as a +bunch all the long day, and no one had given her even a penny. + +Poor little girl! Shivering with cold and hunger she crept along, a +perfect picture of misery! + +The snowflakes fell on her long flaxen hair, which hung in pretty +curls about her throat; but she thought not of her beauty nor of the +cold. Lights gleamed in every window, and there came to her the savory +smell of roast goose, for it was New Year's Eve. And it was of this +which she thought. + +In a corner formed by two houses, one of which projected beyond the +other, she sat cowering down. She had drawn under her little feet, but +still she grew colder and colder; yet she dared not go home, for she +had sold no matches, and could not bring a penny of money. Her father +would certainly beat her; and, besides, it was cold enough at home, +for they had only the houseroof above them; and, though the largest +holes had been stopped with straw and rags, there were left many +through which the cold wind whistled. + +And now her little hands were nearly frozen with cold. Alas! a single +match might do her good if she might only draw it from the bundle, rub +it against the wall, and warm her fingers by it. So at last she drew +one out. Whischt! How it blazed and burned! It gave out a warm, bright +flame like a little candle, as she held her hands over it. A wonderful +little light it was. It really seemed to the little girl as if she sat +before a great iron stove, with polished brass feet and brass shovel +and tongs. So blessedly it burned that the little maiden stretched out +her feet to warm them also. How comfortable she was! But lo! the flame +went out, the stove vanished, and nothing remained but the little +burned match in her hand. + +She rubbed another match against the wall. It burned brightly, and +where the light fell upon the wall it became transparent like a veil, +so that she could see through it into the room. A snow-white cloth was +spread upon the table, on which was a beautiful china dinner service, +while a roast goose, stuffed with apples and prunes, steamed famously, +and sent forth a most savory smell. And what was more delightful +still, and wonderful, the goose jumped from the dish, with knife and +fork still in its breast, and waddled along the floor straight to the +little girl. + +But the match went out then, and nothing was left to her but the +thick, damp wall. + +She lighted another match. And now she was under a most beautiful +Christmas tree, larger and far more prettily trimmed than the one she +had seen through the glass doors at the rich merchant's. Hundreds of +wax tapers were burning on the green branches, and gay figures, such +as she had seen in the shop windows, looked down upon her. The child +stretched out her hands to them; then the match went out. + +Still the lights of the Christmas tree rose higher and higher. She saw +them as stars in heaven, and one of them fell, forming a long trail of +fire. + +"Now some one is dying," murmured the child softly; for her +grandmother, the only person who had loved her and who was now dead, +had told her that whenever a star falls a soul mounts up to God. + +She struck yet another match against the wall, and again it was light; +and in the brightness there appeared before her the dear old +grandmother, bright and radiant, yet sweet and mild, and happy as she +had never looked on earth. + +"Oh, grandmother," cried the child, "take me with you. I know you will +go away when the match burns out. You, too, will vanish, like the warm +stove, the splendid New Year's feast, the beautiful Christmas Tree." +And lest her grandmother should disappear, she rubbed the whole bundle +of matches against the wall. + +And the matches burned with such a brilliant light that it became +brighter than noonday. Her grandmother had never looked so grand and +beautiful. She took the little girl in her arms, and both flew +together, joyously and gloriously, mounting higher and higher, far +above the earth; and for them there was neither hunger, nor cold, nor +care;--they were with God. + +But in the corner, at the dawn of day, sat the poor girl, leaning +against the wall, with red cheeks and smiling mouth,--frozen to death +on the last evening of the old year. Stiff and cold she sat, with the +matches, one bundle of which was burned. + +"She wanted to warm herself, poor little thing," people said. No one +imagined what sweet visions she had had, or how gloriously she had +gone with her grandmother to enter upon the joys of a new year. + +[*] From "Hans Andersen's Fairy Tales." By permission of +publishers--Ginn & Company. + + + + +LITTLE PICCOLA[*] + +Suggested by One of Mrs. Celia Thaxter's Poems + + "Story-telling is a real strengthening spirit-bath."--_Froebel._ + + +Piccola lived in Italy, where the oranges grow, and where all the year +the sun shines warm and bright. I suppose you think Piccola a very +strange name for a little girl; but in her country it was not strange +at all, and her mother thought it the sweetest name a little girl ever +had. + +Piccola had no kind father, no big brother or sister, and no sweet +baby to play with and love. She and her mother lived all alone in an +old stone house that looked on a dark, narrow street. They were very +poor, and the mother was away from home almost every day, washing +clothes and scrubbing floors, and working hard to earn money for her +little girl and herself. So you see Piccola was alone a great deal of +the time; and if she had not been a very happy, contented little +child, I hardly know what she would have done. She had no playthings +except a heap of stones in the back yard that she used for building +houses and a very old, very ragged doll that her mother had found in +the street one day. + +But there was a small round hole in the stone wall at the back of her +yard, and her greatest pleasure was to look through that into her +neighbor's garden. When she stood on a stone, and put her eyes close +to the hole, she could see the green grass in the garden, and smell +the sweet flowers, and even hear the water splashing into the +fountain. She had never seen anyone walking in the garden, for it +belonged to an old gentleman who did not care about grass and flowers. + +One day in the autumn her mother told her that the old gentleman had +gone away, and had rented his house to a family of little American +children, who had come with their sick mother to spend the winter in +Italy. After this, Piccola was never lonely, for all day long the +children ran and played and danced and sang in the garden. It was +several weeks before they saw her at all, and I am not sure they ever +would have done so but one day the kitten ran away, and in chasing her +they came close to the wall and saw Piccola's black eyes looking +through the hole in the stones. They were a little frightened at +first, and did not speak to her; but the next day she was there again, +and Rose, the oldest girl, went up to the wall and talked to her a +little while. When the children found that she had no one to play with +and was very lonely, they talked to her every day, and often brought +her fruits and candies, and passed them through the hole in the wall. + +One day they even pushed the kitten through; but the hole was hardly +large enough for her, and she mewed and scratched and was very much +frightened. After that the little boy said he would ask his father if +the hole might not be made larger, and then Piccola could come in and +play with them. The father had found out that Piccola's mother was a +good woman, and that the little girl herself was sweet and kind, so +that he was very glad to have some of the stones broken away and an +opening made for Piccola to come in. + +How excited she was, and how glad the children were when she first +stepped into the garden! She wore her best dress, a long, +bright-colored woolen skirt and a white waist. Round her neck was a +string of beads, and on her feet were little wooden shoes. It would +seem very strange to us--would it not?--to wear wooden shoes; but +Piccola and her mother had never worn anything else, and never had any +money to buy stockings. Piccola almost always ran about barefooted, +like the kittens and the chickens and the little ducks. What a good +time they had that day, and how glad Piccola's mother was that her +little girl could have such a pleasant, safe place to play in, while +she was away at work! + +By and by December came, and the little Americans began to talk about +Christmas. One day, when Piccola's curly head and bright eyes came +peeping through the hole in the wall, and they ran to her and helped +her in; and as they did so, they all asked her at once what she +thought she would have for a Christmas present. "A Christmas present!" +said Piccola. "Why, what is that?" + +All the children looked surprised at this, and Rose said, rather +gravely, "Dear Piccola, don't you know what Christmas is?" + +Oh, yes, Piccola knew it was the happy day when the baby Christ was +born, and she had been to church on that day and heard the beautiful +singing, and had seen the picture of the Babe lying in the manger, +with cattle and sheep sleeping round about. Oh, yes, she knew all that +very well, but what was a Christmas present? + +Then the children began to laugh and to answer her all together. There +was such a clatter of tongues that she could hear only a few of the +words now and then, such as "chimney," "Santa Claus," "stockings," +"reindeer," "Christmas Eve," "candies and toys." Piccola put her hands +over her ears and said, "Oh, I can't understand one word. You tell me, +Rose." Then Rose told her all about jolly Santa Claus, with his red +cheeks and white beard and fur coat, and about his reindeer and sleigh +full of toys. "Every Christmas Eve," said Rose, "he comes down the +chimney, and fills the stockings of all the good children; so, +Piccola, you hang up your stocking, and who knows what a beautiful +Christmas present you will find when morning comes!" Of course Piccola +thought this was a delightful plan, and was very pleased to hear about +it. Then all the children told her of every Christmas Eve they could +remember, and of the presents they had had; so that she went home +thinking of nothing but dolls and hoops and balls and ribbons and +marbles and wagons and kites. + +She told her mother about Santa Claus, and her mother seemed to think +that perhaps he did not know there was any little girl in that house, +and very likely he would not come at all. But Piccola felt very sure +Santa Claus would remember her, for her little friends had promised to +send a letter up the chimney to remind him. + +Christmas Eve came at last. Piccola's mother hurried home from her +work; they had their little supper of soup and bread, and soon it was +bedtime,--time to get ready for Santa Claus. But oh! Piccola +remembered then for the first time that the children had told her she +must hang up her stocking, and she hadn't any, and neither had her +mother. + +How sad, how sad it was! Now Santa Claus would come, and perhaps be +angry because he couldn't find any place to put the present. + +The poor little girl stood by the fireplace, and the big tears began +to run down her cheeks. Just then her mother called to her, "Hurry, +Piccola; come to bed." What should she do? But she stopped crying, and +tried to think; and in a moment she remembered her wooden shoes, and +ran off to get one of them. She put it close to the chimney, and said +to herself, "Surely Santa Claus will know what it's there for. He will +know I haven't any stockings, so I gave him the shoe instead." + +Then she went off happily to her bed, and was asleep almost as soon as +she had nestled close to her mother's side. + +The sun had only just begun to shine, next morning, when Piccola +awoke. With one jump she was out on the floor and running toward the +chimney. The wooden shoe was lying where she had left it, but you +could never, never guess what was in it. + +Piccola had not meant to wake her mother, but this surprise was more +than any little girl could bear and yet be quiet; so she danced to the +bed with the shoe in her hand, calling, "Mother, mother! look, look! +see the present Santa Claus brought me!" + +Her mother raised her head and looked into the shoe. "Why, Piccola," +she said, "a little chimney swallow nestling in your shoe? What a good +Santa Claus to bring you a bird!" + +"Good Santa Claus, dear Santa Claus!" cried Piccola; and she kissed +her mother and kissed the bird and kissed the shoe, and even threw +kisses up the chimney, she was so happy. + +When the birdling was taken out of the shoe, they found that he did +not try to fly, only to hop about the room; and as they looked closer, +they could see that one of his wings was hurt a little. But the mother +bound it up carefully, so that it did not seem to pain him, and he was +so gentle that he took a drink of water from a cup, and even ate +crumbs and seeds out of Piccola's hands. She was a proud little girl +when she took her Christmas present to show the children in the +garden. They had had a great many gifts,--dolls that could say +"mamma," bright picture books, trains of cars, toy pianos; but not one +of their playthings was alive, like Piccola's birdling. They were as +pleased as she, and Rose hunted about the house until she found a +large wicker cage that belonged to a blackbird she once had. She gave +the cage to Piccola, and the swallow seemed to make himself quite at +home in it at once, and sat on the perch winking his bright eyes at +the children. Rose had saved a bag of candies for Piccola, and when +she went home at last, with the cage and her dear swallow safely +inside it, I am sure there was not a happier little girl in the whole +country of Italy. + +[*] From "The Story Hour," by Wiggins and Smith. Published by consent +of the authors and also the publishers--Houghton, Mifflin and Company. + + + + +THE SHEPHERD'S STORY[*] + +Washington Gladden + + +"Bring hither that sheepskin, Joseph, and lay it down on this bank of +dry earth, under this shelving rock. The wind blows chilly from the +west, but the rock will shelter us. The sky is fair and the moon is +rising, and we can sit here and watch the flocks on the hillside +below. Your young blood and your father's coat of skins will keep you +warm for one watch, I am sure. At midnight, my son, your father, +Reuben, and his brother James will take our places; for the first +watch the old man and the boy will tend the sheep." + +"Yes, grandfather; you shall sit in that snug corner of the rock, +where you can lean back and take your comfort. I will lie here at your +feet. Now and then I will run to see whether the sheep are wandering, +and that will warm me, if I grow cold." + +"Have you never been out on the hills at night with your father?" + +"Never, grandfather. I have often begged him to let me come; but he +kept saying that I must wait until I was twelve years old. On the last +full moon was my birthday and today, when he returned from Bethlehem +to the flocks, he brought me with him." + +"So this is the lad's first night with the sheep in the fields, and +the old man's last night, I fear," said the aged shepherd, sadly. "It +is not often in these days that I venture out to keep the watches of +the flock; but this one night of the year I have spent upon these +hills these many years, and I always shall as long as I have strength +to walk so far." + +"Was your father, too, a shepherd?" + +"Yes, and all his fathers before him for many generations. On these +hills my ancestors have kept their sheep for I know not how long." + +Joseph was still for a moment. His eyes wandered away over the silent +hills, lit by the rising moon. His face was troubled. At length, he +said gently: + +"Grandfather, I heard Rabbi Eliezer saying, the other day, in the +synagogue, that a shepherd's life is not a noble life. He was reading +from one of the old doctors, who said: 'Let no one make his son a +camel-driver, a barber, a sailor, a shepherd, or a shopkeeper. They +are dishonest callings.' I was angry when he read it; but I held my +peace." + +"You did well, my son, to hold your peace. I myself have often heard +such words, of late, from the doctors in the synagogues; but it is not +wise to answer them. Where they got their notions, I know not. From +the Egyptians, I think, more than from the prophets. All Egyptians +hate shepherds, and can never speak of them without sneering. Perhaps +they have not yet forgotten how the shepherds conquered and ruled them +for generations. Nevertheless, there is some reason why the calling of +the shepherds should be despised. Many of them are rude and fierce +men. Living out of doors so constantly makes their manners rough and +their temper harsh. They are often quarrelsome. Such bloody fights as +I used to see among them, at the wells in the south country, where +they brought their flocks to water and each one wanted the first +chance at the well, I hope you will never look upon." + +"But all shepherds are not so," protested Joseph. + +"No, indeed. Brave men they must be; fleet of foot and strong of limb +and stout of heart; but brave men are not always quarrelsome. Many a +shepherd whom I have known had a heart as pure and gentle as a +child's. And the godliest men that I have known have been among them. +If the shepherd has but learned to think, to commune with his own +soul, he has time for thought and time for prayer. More than one with +whom I have watched upon these hills knew all the Psalms of David by +heart and many of the books of the prophets. The doctors in the +synagogues teach only the law; the shepherds love best the Psalms and +the prophets. They do not forget that King David was himself a +shepherd's lad. It was upon these very hills that he kept his father's +sheep. It was in that ravine over yonder, on that hillside, that he, a +mere stripling, caught by the beard and killed the lion and the bear +that attacked the sheep. It was on that slope, just a little to the +south, that the messenger found him with his flocks when he was called +home to be anointed by Samuel the prophet. When the doctors talk so +contemptuously about the shepherds, I wonder if they do not remember +that the great king wrote: 'The Lord is my Shepherd.' How can our +calling be so mean as they say, when David, who was called from the +sheepfolds, praises the Eternal One himself as his Shepherd? But hark! +what noise is that I hear? There is some trouble among the sheep." + +"Let me run and see," answers the boy, "and I will come and bring you +word." + +So saying, Joseph cast off his father's shaggy coat, seized the sling +in his left hand and the crook in his right and ran swiftly out to the +brow of the hill. He was a strong lad, large of frame and a swift +runner, and the sling in his hand was a sure weapon. The old man +looked after him with pride, as he bounded over the rocks, and said to +himself: + +"Some evil beast, I doubt not. But the lad's heart is brave and he +must learn to face dangers. I will wait a moment." + +Presently the sheep came huddling round the hill in terror. The quick, +faint bleat of the ewes showed that they had seen a foe. The old man +arose and hurried in the direction in which the lad had disappeared. +Joseph was just returning, breathless, from the ravine below. + +"It was a wolf, grandfather. The sheep on this side of the ledge had +seen him and were flying. Just as I reached the brow of the hill, he +was creeping round the end of the ledge below, ready to spring upon a +ewe that was feeding near. The first thing he knew a stone from my +sling hit him, and he went howling down the hill. I think I broke his +leg, for he went on three legs and I gained on him as I ran after him; +but he crawled into a narrow place among the rocks in the gorge down +yonder, and I could not follow him." + +"Well done, my lad," said the ancient Stephanus proudly. "You will +make a good shepherd. These single wolves are cowards. It is always +safe to face them. When they come in packs, it is quite another thing. +But this fellow will keep at a safe distance for the rest of the +night, you may depend. Let us go back to our shelter and call the +sheep together." + +It was several minutes before Stephanus and Joseph could collect the +sheep that the wolf had scattered; but at length, with the aid of the +dog, who was not a very brave specimen, and who had taken to his heels +when he saw the wolf coming, they succeeded in driving them into a +safe neighborhood, and then, with their blood quickened by the +adventure, they sat down again beneath the overhanging rock. + +"You said, grandfather, that you always spent this night with the +flocks in the fields. Why this night?" asked the boy. + +"Do you not know, my boy, that this is the night of the year on which +the Lord Christ was born?" + +"Oh! yes," answered the lad. "My father told me as we were walking +hither today, but I had forgotten it. And you were with the sheep that +night?" + +"Aye." + +"Where was it?" + +"Here, on this very spot." + +The boy's eyes began to grow and fill with wonder and there was a +slight tremor in his voice as he hurriedly plied the aged man with his +eager questions. Stephanus drew his shepherd's cloak around him, and +leaned forward a little, and looked out upon the silent moonlit hills, +and then up into the sky. + +"How long ago was that, grandfather?" + +"Just fifty years ago this night." + +"And how old were you then?" + +"Fourteen, and a stout boy for my age. I had been for two years in +the fields with my father, and had tasted to the full the hardships +and dangers of the shepherd's life." + +"Who were with you on that night?" + +"My father, and his brother, James, and Hosea, the son of John, a +neighbor and kinsman of ours. On that year, as on this year and often, +there came in the midwinter a dry and warm season between the early +and the latter rain. We had driven forth our flocks from Bethlehem and +were dwelling by night in the shelter of the tower on the hillside +yonder, watching and sleeping two and two. My father and I were wont +to keep the early watches. At midnight we would call James and Hosea, +and they would watch till the morning. But that night, when the sun +went down and the stars came out, we were sitting here, upon this +hillside, talking of the troubles of Israel and of the promises of +deliverance spoken by the prophets; and James and Hosea were asking my +father questions, and he was answering them, for he was older than +they, and all the people of Bethlehem reverenced him as a wise and +devout man. Some even said that, if the people of Israel had not +ceased to look for prophets, they would have counted him a prophet. I +remember well that, when he rose in the synagogue, it seemed as if +some wisdom from on high touched his lips, and he would speak with +such hope and courage of the light that should yet shine in our +darkness and of the help that should yet arise to Judah, that the +people's faces would glow with joyful expectation." + +Stephanus paused a moment and started forward, as his eye was turned +toward his own shadow upon the rock, cast by the rising moon. Did the +old man's figure that he saw remind him of the patriarch of whom he +was talking? + +Soon he went on. + +"Ah! but they should have heard my father talking here by night, under +the stars. It was here upon these hills where the royal shepherd used +to sing, that his tongue was loosed and he spoke wonderful words. So +it was that night, fifty years ago. I remember it as if it were +yesterday. My father sat in this very niche, where I am sitting now; +James and Hosea were on either side of him. I was lying at their feet, +as you now lie at mine. Their faces kindled and the tremor of deep +feeling was in their voices as they talked together; and the other two +had lingered here three or four hours after the sun had set. It was +not a moonlit night like this, but all the stars were out and all the +winds were still. + +"Suddenly I saw my father rise to his feet. Then the other men sprang +up, with astonishment and wonder upon their faces. It had grown light +all at once, lighter than the brightest moon; and as I turned my face +in the direction in which the others were looking, I saw, standing +there upon that level place, a figure majestic and beautiful beyond +all the power of words to tell." + +"Were you not afraid, grandfather?" + +"Indeed, I was, my boy. My heart stopped beating. The others were +standing, but I had no power to rise. I lay there motionless upon the +earth. My eyes were fixed upon that wonderful face; upon those clear, +shining eyes; upon that brow that seemed to beam with the purity of +the soul within. It was not a smile with which that face was lighted. +It was something too noble and exalted to call by that name. It was a +look that told of power and peace, of joy and triumph." + +"Did you know that it was an angel?" + +"I knew not anything. I only knew that what I saw was glorious, too +glorious for mortal eyes to look upon. Yet, while I gazed, and in far +less time than I have now taken to tell you of what I saw, the +terribleness of the look began to disappear, the sweetness and grace +of the soul shone forth, and I had almost ceased to tremble before the +angel opened his mouth. And when he spoke, his voice, clearer than any +trumpet and sweeter than any lute, charmed away all my fears." + +"'Be not afraid' he said, 'for behold I bring you good tidings of +great joy which shall be to all people. For there is born to you this +day, in the City of David, a Savior, which is Messiah, the King. And +this is the sign unto you. Ye shall find a babe wrapped in swaddling +clothes and lying in a manger.' + +"Oh! that voice, my boy! It makes my heart beat now to remember its +sweetness. It seemed to carry these words into our innermost hearts; +to print them on our memory, so that we never could forget one +syllable of what he said. And then, before we had time to make reply, +he turned aside a little and lifted his face toward heaven, and, in a +tone far louder than that in which he had spoken to us, but yet so +sweet that it did not startle us at all, came forth from his lips the +first strain of the great song: + + "'Glory to God in the highest!' + +"When he had uttered that, he paused a moment, and the echoes, one +after another, from hills that were near and hills that were far away, +came flying home to us; so that I knew for once what the prophet meant +when he said that all the mountains and the hills should break forth +into singing. But before the echoes had all faded we began to hear +other voices above our heads, a great chorus, taking up the strain +that the angel first had sung. At first it seemed dim and far away; +but gradually it came nearer, and filled all the air, filled all the +earth, filled all our souls with a most entrancing sweetness. Glory to +God in the highest!--that was the grandest part. It seemed as though +there could be no place so high that that strain would not mount up to +it, and no place so happy that that voice would not make it thrill +with new gladness. But then came the softer tones, less grand, but +even sweeter: 'Peace on earth; good will to men.' + +"Oh! my boy, if you had heard that music as I did, you would not +wonder when I tell you that it has been hard for me to wait here, in +the midst of the dreary noises of earth, for fifty years before +hearing it again. But earth that night was musical as heaven. You +should have heard the echoes that came back, when the angels' chorus +ceased, from all these mountains and all these little hills on every +side. There is music enough even in this world, if one can only call +it forth; chords divine that will vibrate with wonderful harmony. It +only needs an angel's hand to touch the trembling strings." + +"Did you see the choir of angels overhead, grandfather?" + +"Nay, I saw nothing. The brightness was too dazzling for mortal eyes. +We all stood there, with downcast eyes, listening spell-bound to the +wonderful melody, until the chorus ceased, and the echoes, one after +another, died away, and the glory faded out of the sky and the stars +came back again, and no sound was heard but the faint voice of a young +lamb, calling for its mother. + +"The first to break the silence was my father. 'Come,' he said, in a +solemn voice. 'Let us go at once to Bethlehem, and see this thing +which is come to pass, which the Lord hath made known unto us.' + +"So the sheep were quietly gathered into the fold at the tower, and we +hastened to Bethlehem. Never shall I forget that journey by night. We +spake not many words, as we traveled swiftly the twenty furlongs; talk +seemed altogether tame; but now and then my father broke forth in a +song, and the others joined in the chorus. We were not so spent with +running but that we could find voice for singing; and such words as +these of the prophet were the only ones that could give voice to our +swelling hearts: + + "'Sing, O heavens; and be joyful, O earth; + And break forth into singing, O mountains; + For the Lord hath comforted His people, + And will have mercy on His afflicted. + + "'How beautiful upon the mountains + Are the feet of Him that bringeth good tidings, + That publisheth peace, + That bringeth good tidings of good, + That publisheth salvation.' + +"It was midnight when we climbed the hill to the little city of +Bethlehem; the constellation Cesil, called by the Greeks Orion, was +just setting in the west. We knew not whither to go. We had only the +sign of the angel by which we should know the infant Messiah. He was a +babe of one day. He was lying in a manger. + +"'Let us go to the inn Chimham,' said my father. 'It stands on the +very spot where King David was born. Peradvanture we shall find him +there.' + +"Over the entrance to the court of the inn a lantern was swinging from +a rope stretched across from post to post. Guided by its light, we +entered, and found the courtyard full of beasts of burden, showing +that the inn was crowded with travelers. In the arched shelter of the +hostelry as many as could find room were lying; some who could not +sleep were sitting up and waiting drearily for the morning. Two aged +women near the entrance, were talking in a low tone. + +"'Peace be unto you!' said my father. + +"'The Lord be gracious unto thee,' answered the oldest woman, in a +solemn voice, as she looked upon my father's white beard; 'but,' she +quickly added, 'there is scanty cheer in this place for late comers.' + +"'We seek not lodging,' said my father; 'but know you whether among +these guests is an infant born this day?' + +"'Verily there is,' answered the aged dame; 'a man-child more +beautiful than any my eyes have ever beheld. He is lying in a manger +there in the cave that serves for stable.' + +"We hastened to the mouth of the cave, and there beheld our King. The +oxen and the asses were lying near, and a strong man, with a grave and +benignant face, was leaning on his staff above the manger. A beautiful +young mother lay close beside it, her cheek resting on her hands, that +were clasped over the edge of the rock-hewn crib. Into this a little +straw had been thrown, and over it a purple robe had been cast, +whereon the infant lay. A lamp, set upon a projection of the wall of +the cave, burned brightly near. The great eyes of the wonderful child +were wandering about the room; his hand touched his mother's lips. I +waited to hear him open his mouth and speak. + +"There was a moment of silence after we entered the cave. My father +broke it with his salutation: + +"'Hail, thou blessed among women!' he cried. 'This child of thine is a +Prince and a Savior.' + +"And then we all bowed low upon our faces before him and worshipped +him with praise and gladness. + +"The two aged women, with whom we had spoken, had followed us to the +door of the stable, and, seeing us worshipping there, had run to call +others who were awake in the inn, so that when we arose quite a +company were standing at the door, or just within, gazing upon the +King in his beauty and listening to our thanksgiving with great +wonder. + +"Then my father told them all the things that we had heard and +seen--the message of the angel, the song in the air, the glory of the +Lord that had appeared to us--and how we had quickly come to +Bethlehem, and had found things as the angel had told us. 'And it is +even,' he cried, 'as the prophet himself hath spoken: "Thou Bethlehem +Ephratah, though thou be little among the thousands of Judah, yet out +of thee shall he come forth unto me that is to be ruler in Israel, +whose going forth hast been of old; even from everlasting."' + +"All that heard were full of astonishment--all save the mother. I saw +no wonder on her face; the great things that my father told caused her +no astonishment; she listened with a quiet and solemn joy, like one +who was saying in her heart: 'I knew it all before.' + +"When my father had finished speaking, we all bowed low again before +the young child; and the mother lifted him in her arms and placed his +cheek against her own, smiling graciously on us, but uttering no word. +And we came forth from the stable and stood again beneath the stars in +the courtyard of the inn. By this time many of the travelers were +awake, and an eager company had gathered around us, all of whom +desired to be told of the sign that had been shown to us. To one and +another we rehearsed our story, lingering long to make known the good +tidings, until the morning star appeared and the dawn began to kindle +over the eastern hills. Then we hastened to our own homes in the city, +and told our kindred what had happened unto us. In the early morning +we came back again unto our pastures and our flocks, rejoicing to +stand again in the place where the glory of God had shone and the +music of heaven had filled the air." + +Stephanus paused, his face all aglow with the tale that he had been +telling. His eyes swept again the circuit of the moonlit hills and +were lifted reverently up to the sky. + +"Did you ever see the Lord Christ after that?" asked Joseph. + +"Once only. My father and I were at Jerusalem at the passover. It was +the year before my father died, seventeen years ago; it was the same +week on which our Lord was crucified. My father was then an aged +man--fourscore and five years old. Our tent was pitched on the slope +of the Mount of Olives, near the Bethany road. While we sat there one +morning, a great noise of shouting was heard, and presently we saw one +riding on an ass, followed by a great company, crying 'Hosanna!' As we +drew nearer, we heard them say that it was Jesus of Nazareth; and, +when we saw His face, we knew that it was He, by the wonderful eyes, +though it was the face of a bearded man, and not of an infant, and was +very pale and sad. As He drew near to our tent, the city came full +into His view, with its gilded roofs and marble pinnacles, blazing +under the morning sun. Suddenly He paused in the way, and we heard Him +weeping aloud, though we could not hear His words of lamentation. The +multitude halted, too, when we did; and the cheering ceased, and some +of those who stood nearest Him wept also, though no one seemed to know +what had caused His grief. But soon they went on again, and before +they reached the foot of the hill another multitude met them, coming +forth from the city, and we heard their shouts of 'Hosanna in the +Highest!' as they entered the gate of Jerusalem." + +"What said your father when he saw all this?" queried Joseph. + +"He said but little. There was a shadow on his face, yet he spoke +cheerfully. 'I cannot understand it,' he murmured. 'They are trying to +make Him King of the Jews; but King He will not be, at least not in +their fashion. Yet in some way I know He will be Prince and Deliverer. +I cannot understand, I will wait.'" + +"Were you not in Jerusalem when He was put to death?" + +"No. My father was frail and ill and we had hastened home to +Bethlehem. News of His death on the cross had only just reached us +when another messenger came to tell us that the sepulcher in which He +had been laid was empty; that He had risen from the dead. + +"My father's eyes kindled when he heard this message. He cast aside +his staff and stood firm on his feet. His voice, when he spoke, rang +out like a trumpet. 'Blessed be the Lord God of Israel!' he cried. It +is thus that He redeemeth His people. This Jesus is not to be the +Captain of our armies, but the Savior of our souls. His kingdom is the +kingdom of righteousness, and therefore it is that the prophet hath +said: "Of the increase of His government and peace there shall be +no end." + +"Always after that, words of the prophet concerning the Messiah kept +coming back to my father; and once and again he cried out: 'Truly, +this Jesus was the Son of God, the true King of Israel!' As the months +wore on, his words were more and more of the crucified and risen Lord, +and he dwelt in a great peace. At length, when the flocks were led +forth to the midwinter pasturage, he begged to go with me. It was on +this very day that we came, the same day of the year on which the Lord +was born. He was feeble and tottered as he walked; but he leaned on +my arm and we came slowly. In the evening he said: 'Let me go, my son, +and sit once more under the great rock.' I wrapped him in my coat of +skins, and sat here where I sit now and where he was sitting when the +angel came. We talked here long, under the stars, that night, of Him +whom we had learned to love as Master and Lord, of the works that He +had done and the words that He had spoken, as His disciples had told +of them. We had been silent for a few moments, when I looked up, and +saw that his head had fallen backward against the rock wall. I sprang +to him. His eyes were shut, but his lips were moving. I put my ear to +his mouth, and heard him say only: 'Peace--on--earth--good +will'--they were his last words. He had gone beyond our starlight, +into the country where the light always shines--the glory that fell +that night, fifty years ago, upon these hills of Bethlehem." + +Stephanus was silent and Joseph's eyes were full of tears. At length +the old man rose. + +"Come, my son," he said. "Cesil is in the south; it is midnight; let +us call your father and his brother. The old man and the boy have kept +their watch, and it is now time for rest." + +[*] Used by permission of the Author. + + + + +THE STORY OF CHRISTMAS[*] + +Nora A. Smith + + "A great spiritual efficiency lies in story-telling".--_Froebel._ + + +Christmas Day, you know, dear children, is Christ's day, Christ's +birthday, and I want to tell you why we love it so much, and why we +try to make every one happy when it comes each year. + +A long, long time ago--more than eighteen hundred years--the baby +Christ was born on Christmas Day; a baby so wonderful and so +beautiful, who grew up to be a man so wise, so good, so patient and +sweet that, every year, the people who know about Him love Him better +and better, and are more and more glad when His birthday comes again. +You see that He must have been very good and wonderful; for people +have always remembered His birthday, and kept it lovingly for eighteen +hundred years. + +He was born, long years ago, in a land far, far away across the seas. + +Before the baby Christ was born, Mary, His mother, had to make a long +journey with her husband, Joseph. They made this journey to be taxed +or counted; for in those days this could not be done in the town where +people happened to live, but they must be numbered in the place where +they were born. + +In that far-off time the only way of traveling was on a horse, or a +camel, or a good, patient donkey. Camels and horses cost a great deal +of money, and Mary was very poor; so she rode on a quiet, safe +donkey, while Joseph walked by her side, leading him and leaning on +his stick. Mary was very young, and beautiful, I think, but Joseph was +a great deal older than she. + +People dress nowadays, in those distant countries, just as they did so +many years ago, so we know that Mary must have worn a long, thick +dress, falling all about her in heavy folds, and that she had a soft +white veil over her head and neck, and across her face. Mary lived in +Nazareth, and the journey they were making was to Bethlehem, many +miles away. + +They were a long time traveling, I am sure; for donkeys are slow, +though they are so careful, and Mary must have been very tired before +they came to the end of their journey. + +They had traveled all day, and it was almost dark when they came near +to Bethlehem, to the town where the baby Christ was to be born. There +was the place they were to stay,--a kind of inn, or lodging-house, but +not at all like those you know about. + +They have them today in that far-off country, just as they built them +so many years ago. + +It was a low, flat-roofed, stone building, with no windows and only +one large door. There were no nicely furnished bed rooms inside, and +no soft white beds for the tired travelers; there were only little +places built into the stones of the wall, something like the berths on +steamboats nowadays, and each traveler brought his own bedding. No +pretty garden was in front of the inn, for the road ran close to the +very door, so that its dust lay upon the doorsill. All around the +house, to a high, rocky hill at the back, a heavy stone fence was +built, so that the people and the animals inside might be kept safe. + +Mary and Joseph could not get very near the inn; for the whole road in +front was filled with camels and donkeys and sheep and cows, while a +great many men were going to and fro, taking care of the animals. Some +of these people had come to Bethlehem to pay their taxes, as Mary and +Joseph had done, and others were staying for the night on their way to +Jerusalem, a large city a little further on. + +The yard was filled, too, with camels and sheep; and men were lying on +the ground beside them, resting and watching and keeping them safe. +The inn was so full and the yard was so full of people that there was +no room for anybody else, and the keeper had to take Joseph and Mary +through the house and back to the high hill, where they found another +place that was used for a stable. This had only a door and front, and +deep caves were behind, stretching far into the rocks. + +This was the spot where Christ was born. Think how poor a place!--but +Mary was glad to be there, after all; and when the Christ-child came, +He was like other babies, and had so lately come from heaven that He +was happy everywhere. + +There were mangers all around the cave, where the cattle and sheep +were fed, and great heaps of hay and straw were lying on the floor. +Then, I think, there were brown-eyed cows and oxen there, and quiet, +woolly sheep, and perhaps even some dogs that had come in to take care +of the sheep. + +And there in the cave, by and by, the wonderful baby came, and they +wrapped Him up and laid Him in a manger. + +All the stars in the sky shone brightly that night, for they knew the +Christ-child was born, and the angels in heaven sang together for joy. +The angels knew about the lovely child, and were glad that He had come +to help the people on earth to be good. + +There lay the beautiful baby, with a manger for His bed, and oxen and +sheep all sleeping quietly round Him. His mother watched Him and loved +Him, and by and by many people came to see Him, for they had heard +that a wonderful child was to be born in Bethlehem. All the people in +the inn visited Him, and even the shepherds left their flocks in the +fields and sought the child and His mother. + +But the baby was very tiny, and could not talk any more than any other +tiny child, so He lay in His mother's lap, or in the manger, and only +looked at the people. So after they had seen Him and loved Him, they +went away again. + +After a time, when the baby had grown larger, Mary took Him back to +Nazareth, and there He lived and grew up. + +And He grew to be such a sweet, wise, loving boy, such a tender, +helpful man, and He said so many good and beautiful things, that +everyone who knew Him, loved Him. Many of the things He said are in +the Bible, you know, and a great many beautiful stories of the things +He used to do while He was on earth. + +He loved little children like you very much, and often used to take +them up in His arms and talk to them. + +And this is the reason we love Christmas Day so much, and try to make +everybody happy when it comes around each year. This is the reason; +because Christ, who was born on Christmas Day, has helped us all to be +good so many, many times, and because He was the best Christmas +present the world ever had! + +[*] From "The Story Hour," by Kate Douglas Wiggins and Nora A. +Smith. Used by permission of the authors and also of the +publishers--Houghton, Mifflin and Company. + + + + +THE LEGEND OF THE CHRISTMAS TREE[*] + +By Lucy Wheelock + + +Two little children were sitting by the fire one cold winter's night. +All at once they heard a timid knock at the door, and one ran to +open it. + +There, outside in the cold and the darkness, stood a child with no +shoes upon his feet and clad in thin, ragged garments. He was +shivering with cold, and he asked to come in and warm himself. + +"Yes, come," cried both the children; "you shall have our place by the +fire. Come in!" + +They drew the little stranger to their warm seat and shared their +supper with him, and gave him their bed, while they slept on a hard +bench. + +In the night they were awakened by strains of sweet music and, looking +out, they saw a band of children in shining garments approaching the +house. They were playing on golden harps, and the air was full of +melody. + +Suddenly the Stranger Child stood before them; no longer cold and +ragged, but clad in silvery light. + +His soft voice said: "I was cold and you took Me in. I was hungry, and +you fed Me. I was tired, and you gave Me your bed. I am the Christ +Child, wandering through the world to bring peace and happiness to all +good children. As you have given to Me, so may this tree every year +give rich fruit to you." + +So saying, He broke a branch from the fir tree that grew near the +door, and He planted it in the ground and disappeared. But the branch +grew into a great tree, and every year it bore wonderful golden fruit +for the kind children. + +[*] From "For the Children's Hour," by Bailey and Lewis. Used by +permission of the authors and the publishers--Milton Bradley Company. + + + + +LITTLE JEAN[*] + +A Christmas Story + + +Long ago, and far from here, in a country with a name too hard to +pronounce, there lived a little boy named Jean. In many ways, he was +just like the boys here, for there are many Johns over here, are there +not? Then too, Jean lived with his auntie, and some of our boys do +that too. His father and mother were dead, and that is true here +sometimes, isn't it? But in some ways things were quite different with +Jean. In the first place his auntie was very, very cross, and she +often made him climb up his ladder to his little garret room to go to +sleep on his pallet of straw, without any supper, save a dry crust. +His stockings had holes in the heels, and toes and knees, because his +auntie never had time to mend them, and his shoes would have been worn +out all the time if they had not been such strong wooden shoes--for in +that country the boys all wore wooden shoes. Jean did many a little +service around the place, for his auntie made him work for his daily +bread, and he chopped the wood and swept the paths and made the fires +and ran the errands, but he never heard anyone say "Thank you." + +Jean's happiest days were at school, and I wonder if he was like our +boys in that? There his playmates wore much better clothes and good +stockings too, and warm top coats, but they never thought of making +fun of Jean, for they all loved to play with him. One morning Jean +started off to school (which was next to the big church), and when he +got there he found the children all so happy and gay and dressed in +their best clothes, and he heard one boy say, "Won't it be jolly +tomorrow with the big tree full of oranges and popcorn and candy, and +the candles burning?" And another added, "Won't it be fun to see the +things in our shoes in the morning, the goodies that boys love?" And +another said, "My, but we have a big, fat goose at our house, stuffed +with plums and just brown to a turn," and he smacked his lips as he +thought of it. And Jean began to wonder about that beautiful tree and +wish that one would grow at his house. And he thought about his wooden +shoes and knew there would be no goodies in them for him in the +morning. Then he heard one boy say, "Don't you love Christmas?" And +Jean said, "Christmas! why, what is Christmas?" But just then the +teacher came in and said, "Boys, come into the church now and hear the +music." And so the boys marched one behind the other just as they do +in school here, and they went into the great church. Jean thought it +was beautiful in there! The soft light, the warm pleasant air, the +flowers, and the marble altar, and then the music! Oh, such music Jean +had never heard, and somehow as he sat on the high-backed bench and +listened, his own heart grew very warm although he could not +understand why, and he loved so to hear them singing: "Peace on earth, +good will to men." And it began to sing itself over and over in his +heart, this sweet, sweet song of "Peace on earth, good will to men." +Then the time came to go home, and the boys all shouted, "Good-bye, +Jean! and Merry Christmas!" And though Jean didn't know about "Merry +Christmas," he kept singing in his little warmed heart, "Peace on +earth, good will to men," and then he was glad the other boys could +have the tree and the goose and the wooden shoes full of goodies even +if he couldn't. + +As Jean went home the snow began to fall and the big flakes lodged on +his shoulders and cap and hands, but he didn't mind the cold for his +heart was so warm. By and by as he ran down the street he passed a +tall house with the steps going up from the street, and there sitting +on the bottom step he saw a little boy with soft curling hair and a +beautiful face, leaning his head against the stone house, fast asleep. +Somehow as Jean looked at the sleeping face, his own heart grew still +and quiet and warm, and he felt like he could look at it forever, and +suddenly he caught himself singing softly under his breath, "Peace on +earth, good will to men." And then he looked down at the little boy's +feet and he saw that he was barefooted and his little feet were purple +with the cold. As Jean looked at the feet, and then at the face of the +child, and thought of the sweet song in his heart, he said, "Oh! I +wish I could give him my shoes, for I have stockings to keep me warm, +but auntie would be so mad! And the more he looked and thought, the +more he longed to give his shoes away, until all at once he said, "I +know what I'll do, I'll give him one shoe and one stocking and then he +won't be so cold," and he felt as though he couldn't get his shoe and +stocking off fast enough to give them to the little child. So gently +and tenderly he lifted the little cold foot in his hand to put on the +shoe that he did not waken the sleeping boy, even when he had put the +stocking on the other foot, and then as he stood up again and took a +last look at the lovely face, before he knew it he was singing aloud, +"Peace on earth, good will to men." Then he hopped off home in the +snow with the happiest heart he had ever had. + +Now, I wish the story turned out differently and that his auntie said +when he told her about it, "I'm so glad you did it, Jean." But she was +so very cross, that she slapped Jean and sent him off to bed without +any supper, saying, "You had no right to give away that shoe and +stocking for my money paid for them!" Somehow Jean didn't mind doing +without supper that night and he soon went fast asleep and dreamed a +beautiful dream, for he thought he was still singing "Peace on earth, +good will to men!" And he saw a vision of the little sleeping boy, +that grew into a tall and gentle man with a radiant face who walked to +and fro in Jean's dream, singing with him "Peace on earth, good will +to men!" Then morning came and outside his window, Jean heard the +voices of children singing, "Glory to God in the highest, on earth +peace, good will to men!" And he heard a very strange sound too, for +his auntie's voice, soft and gentle, said, "Jean, wake up, and come +down and see what has happened," and Jean came down the ladder and lo! +there was a wonderful tree just like the other boys were having today, +and a goose, and by the fireplace his own wooden shoe, and beside it +the mate that he had given to the sleeping child, and far in the +distance Jean heard the children's voices singing as they ran down the +street, "Peace, peace on earth, good will to men!" Then the room grew +very still and peaceful and Jean's heart did too--and through the +silence there came a voice so tender and loving--so gentle that the +auntie's eyes were full of tears, and Jean wanted to listen forever, +and the voice said, "Jean, inasmuch as ye did it unto one of the least +of these, my brethren, ye did it unto ME." + +[*] Adapted from the French of Francois Coppee, by Nannie-Lee-Frayser. + + + + +HOW THE FIR TREE BECAME THE CHRISTMAS TREE[*] + +By Aunt Hede, in "Kindergarten Magazine" + + +This is the story of how the fir tree became the Christmas tree. + +At the time when the Christ Child was born all the people, the +animals, and the trees, and plants were very happy. The Child was born +to bring peace and happiness to the whole world. People came daily to +see the little One, and they always brought gifts with them. + +There were three trees standing near the crypt which saw the people, +and they wished that they, too, might give presents to the Christ +Child. + +The Palm said: "I will choose my most beautiful leaf, and place it as +a fan over the Child." + +"And I," said the Olive, "will sprinkle sweet-smelling oil upon His +head." + +"What can I give to the Child?" asked the Fir, who stood near. + +"You!" cried the others. "You have nothing to offer Him. Your needles +would prick Him, and your tears are sticky." + +So the poor little Fir tree was very unhappy, and it said: "Yes, you +are right. I have nothing to offer the Christ Child." + +Now, quite near the trees stood the Christmas Angel, who had heard all +that the trees had said. The Angel was sorry for the Fir tree who was +so lowly and without envy of the other trees. So, when it was dark, +and the stars came out, he begged a few of the little stars to come +down and rest upon the branches of the Fir tree. They did as the +Christmas Angel asked, and the Fir tree shone suddenly with a +beautiful light. + +And, at that very moment, the Christ Child opened His eyes--for He had +been asleep--and as the lovely light fell upon Him He smiled. + +Every year people keep the dear Christmas Child's birthday by giving +gifts to each other, and every year, in remembrance of His first +birthday, the Christmas Angel places in every house a fir tree, also. +Covered with starry candles it shines for the children as the stars +shone for the Christ Child. The Fir tree was rewarded for its +meekness, for to no other tree is it given to shine upon so many happy +faces. + +[*] From "For the Children's Hour," by Bailey and Lewis. Used by +permission of the authors and also the publishers--Milton Bradley +Company. + + + + +THE MAGI IN THE WEST AND THEIR SEARCH FOR THE CHRIST[*] + +A Tale for the Christmas-Tide + +By Frederick E. Dewhurst + + +[Sidenote: The Mountain of Vision] + +Now, it happened a long time ago, in the year ----, but the exact year +does not matter, because you will not find this story written in the +history of any of the nations of the world. But in one of the +countries of Europe bordering on the Mediterranean Sea was a lofty +mountain, which, to the dwellers in the plains below, seemed to reach +to the very sky. At times its summit was covered with clouds, so that +it could not be seen; at other times it stood out fair and clear, as +though silently asking the people to look up and not down. The lower +slopes of the mountain were covered with olive trees, with groves of +oranges and lemons, and with vineyards, and they were dotted here and +there with the little white cottages of the peasants who made their +living from these groves and vineyards, the fruit of which they sold +in the city not far away. + +[Sidenote: Sunset in the Sea] + +Along the mountain-side wound a foot-trail even to the summit, and +nowhere, in all the region, was there a finer view of the +Mediterranean than from the summit of this mountain. In the long +summer afternoons the peasants and children would climb to the top and +look off on the lovely picture of land and sea. Then they would eat +their simple lunch of bread and dates and olives and quench their +thirst from the spring on the mountain-side, which they called +"Dew-of-heaven," so clear and fresh and sparkling was it; and when the +sun began to touch the western sky with his pencils of gold and +carmine and purple, they hastened down, that they might reach their +cottages before the night shut in. + +[Sidenote: A Stranger Cometh] + +On the day when this story begins a man was standing on the summit of +the mountain looking across the sea in the direction where you will +find Tyre and Joppa on the map. He was, very plainly, not one of the +peasants who lived on the mountain-side. He looked about sixty years +of age; he was tall and erect, though he carried a staff in his hand. +His hair and beard were long and flowing, and almost gray, but his eye +was clear and penetrating, and he was looking across the sea as though +he expected some one to appear. + +And while he stood there gazing seaward, there appeared a second man +on the summit, helping himself up with his staff, and panting with the +effort of the long climb. From his dress and manner it was plain that +this man, too, was not one of the peasants, for, like the first comer, +he seemed to belong to another age and clime. The two men glanced at +each other and gave such greeting as strangers might who should meet +in so solitary a spot as a mountain summit. Then both lapsed into +silence and looked off across the sea. + +[Sidenote: And Findeth a Friend] + +Presently the last comer seemed to awake from his reverie. He walked +over to the place where the other man was sitting, still gazing off +toward Joppa, and touched him on the shoulder: "A thousand pardons, my +friend," he said, "but my mind is haunted with some far-off +recollection, as though in some other land and some far-off time I had +seen thy face. Wilt thou have the kindness to tell me thy name?" + +Without lifting his eyes from the sea, and in a tone which seemed +regretful and sad, the stranger replied: "My name is Gaspard." + +[Sidenote: A Far-off Pilgrimage Recalled] + +"Gaspard! Indeed, then have I seen thee! Look at me, my friend; dost +thou not remember me? My name is Melchoir. Dost thou not recall that +time, how long I know not, when thou and I and Balthazar followed a +star which led us to a little Jewish hamlet, thou bearing gold and I +frankincense, and Balthazar myrrh? Dost thou not remember how, on the +long journey thither, we talked about the young Prince, whom we +expected to find in a royal palace, and how at last when we reached +the village, following the star, we were led not to a palace but to a +little inn, and not even to a room within the inn, but to the +stable-yard, where we found a sweet-faced woman bending over a babe +cradled in a manger; and standing near, a sturdy peasant, proud and +happy, whose name was Joseph? Dost thou not remember, too, that when +we had recovered from our surprise, we left our gifts and greetings, +and went our way as men who had been dreaming? Gaspard, dost thou not +remember?" + +[Sidenote: And Wanderings in Many Lands] + +And Gaspard, looking now intently in the other's face, replied: "Yes, +Melchoir, I remember thee, and I remember the journey of which thou +hast spoken better than I remember aught else. Neither have I +forgotten the surprise and disappointment with which we came to the +place whither the star led us; nor how, after leaving our gifts, we +went away as in a dream; and, Melchoir, I have been dreaming ever +since. Even here hast thou found me in a dream of perplexity. I am +still Gaspard, the wandering magician; for how many years I know not, +I have wandered up and down these lands of Europe. I have crossed the +seas; in every place I have sought to find the kingdom over which we +were told this young prince was one day to reign. Dost thou not +remember that we were told His kingdom was to last forever, that He +would reign in it himself forever and would never die? Alas! I have +lost the old power of the magician's art. I can summon no star to +guide me to the place where I shall find this kingdom and its king." + +[Sidenote: If Only Balthazar Were Here] + +"Truly, Gaspard," answered Melchoir, "the story of your wanderings is +but the repetition of my own; and even now was I drawn to this +mountain summit on the self-same errand that brought you here,--to see +if I could not discover in the direction of yonder land, where +Bethlehem was, some star which might prove to be His star, and which +might guide me in the new quest. If only our old companion, Balthazar, +were with us now, he might give us the clew to our search, for not +only was he more skilful in the magician's art, but he was braver and +more courageous, and withal more serene in spirit." + +[Sidenote: A Song in the Air] + +Now, even while Melchoir was speaking, a voice was heard a little way +down the mountain. Gaspard and Melchoir stopped to listen. The voice +was singing, and the words of the song floated up to them distinctly: + + If the sun has hid its light, + If the day has turned to night, + If the heavens are not benign, + If the stars refuse to shine-- + + Heart of man lose not thy hope; + Door, there's none that shall not ope; + Path, there's none that shall not clear; + Heart of man! why shouldst thou fear? + + If for years should be thy quest, + If for years thou hast no rest, + If thou circlest earth and sea, + If thou worn and weary be-- + + Heart of man, lose not thy hope; + Door, there's none that shall not ope; + Path, there's none that shall not clear; + Heart of man! why shouldst thou fear? + +[Sidenote: Balthazar Cometh] + +"That," exclaimed Gaspard and Melchoir together, "is the voice of +Balthazar," and they hastened to meet him, for he was now almost at +the summit, and the refrain of his song was still upon his lips. At +that moment Balthazar sprang up from the sloping path into full view +of the two men, and, giving each a hand, exclaimed: "Gaspard, +Melchoir, beloved companions, I have found you at last. The peasants +below were not mistaken. From their description, I was certain I +should find you here. And you, too, have been searching these long +years for the kingdom of the Christ! and, like me, you have met with +disappointment; but, comrades, be not of faint heart: + + Door, there's none that shall not ope; + Path, there's none that shall not clear. + +Let us hasten down the mountain, for see! the sky is already growing +gold and crimson beyond the pillars of Hercules. Let us seek the +wayfarer's lodging with the hospitable peasants in the valley, and +tomorrow let us begin our search for the Christ anew. We have wandered +alone; let us invoke now the star to guide us together." + +[Sidenote: Forget Not Hospitality] + +That night, therefore, the three strangers lodged with the simple +peasant people in the valley, partaking with thankfulness of the +coarse bread, the dates and the red wine--the common fare of their +daily life. Nor did they fail to notice a motto inscribed above the +fireplace in rude Greek letters: + + * * * * * + +On the morrow they were ready to begin their search together for the +Christ, and they hoped not to wander far before they should find at +least the outskirts of His kingdom. But whither should they go? In +what direction should they first turn their steps? + +[Sidenote: Once More a Star] + +While they were thus wondering and debating, Balthazar suddenly +exclaimed: "I see the star!" And behold, a little way before them, and +at no great distance above their heads, they discerned in the gray of +the early morning a star of pale, opal light, which seemed to move +forward as the men moved toward it. + +"We must follow the star!" Balthazar said in a whisper. Silently and +breathlessly his companions followed on. + +Now, so intently did the three men keep their eyes fixed upon the +star, and so eagerly did they follow in the direction where it seemed +to lead, that it was only after a considerable time they discovered +that they had become separated from each other, and that their paths +were getting farther and farther apart. Yet, there before each of them +was the star, shining with its soft, opalescent light, and still +ringing in their ears were the words of Balthazar--"we must follow +the star." + +[Sidenote: The Star Stands Still] + +So each followed the star, each by himself alone. Gaspard's path +wound along near the shore of the gulfs and bays of the Mediterranean, +until at last the the star turned southward and drew him nearer and +nearer to a great city, and finally stood still over the dome of a +vast cathedral. "It must be," thought Gaspard, "that I have come to +the end of my search. This must be the capital and palace of the +eternal king." + +[Sidenote: Marbled Aisle's Magnificence] + +The square in front of the cathedral was thronged with people; +multitudes were pouring in through the great portals. Gaspard joined +the throngs, and at last found himself under the mighty dome, which +seemed to him as far away as the sky itself. Everything in this +wonderful place appealed to his imagination. There were great rows of +massive columns, symbol of a strength eternal, and they seemed like +wide-open arms holding out a welcome to the human race. There were +statues and paintings by great masters in art. The light of the sun +poured in through many-colored windows, on which were blazoned the +deeds of heroes and saints. Strains of music from the great organ in +the distance floated out upon the air. Touched and thrilled by all he +saw, Gaspard exclaimed to himself: "The place on which I stand is +holy ground." + +[Sidenote: Kyrie Eleison] + +Soon, however, he perceived that the throngs of people were not +lingering, like himself, in awe and wonder over the great columns and +the dome, and the statues, and the paintings, and the windows. Their +eyes were fixed intently upon something that was going on in the far +end of the cathedral. An altar was there, and priests in white robes +passing up and down before it, and tall tapers burning around it. Near +the altar was the image of a man hanging from a cross; his hands and +feet were pierced with nails, and a cruel wound was in his side. The +people were gazing at this altar, and at the image, and at what the +white-robed priests were doing. The strains of solemn music from the +organ blended with the voices of priests chanting the service. Clouds +of incense rose from censers, swung with solemn motion by the +altar-boys, and the fragrance of the incense was wafted down the long +aisles. At last, the tinkling of a bell. The organ became silent for +an instant, as though it felt within its heart the awful solemnity of +the moment; and then it burst forth into new rapture, and the people +began pouring out through the great doors. + +[Sidenote: We Must Follow the Star] + +Gaspard went forth with the throng into the cathedral square. "And +this," he said, "is the end of my search. I have found the Christ. His +kingdom is in the imagination of man. How beautiful, how wonderful, +how strange it was! 'Dominus vobiscum,' did not the priests say? Here, +then, at last I have found the city of the great King." + +But as he lingered, behold! the star which had stood over the dome +of the cathedral was now before him, as at first, and seemed to waver +and tremble, as if beckoning him on. So, although his feet seemed +bound to the spot, and his heart was still throbbing with the deep +feelings the cathedral service had created in him, remembering the +words of Balthazar, "we must follow the star," he slowly and reluctantly +walked on. + +[Sidenote: The Just Shall Live by Faith] + +In the meantime Melchoir also had followed faithfully the path along +which the star seemed to lead. Through forests in which he almost lost +his way, across rivers difficult and dangerous to ford--still he +followed on. At length Melchoir's star seemed to tarry over the spire +of a gothic church, into which the people were going in throngs. +Waiting a moment, to be sure that the star was actually standing +still, Melchoir went in with the rest. In this place was no altar, +such as Gaspard saw; no image on the cross; no white-robed priests; no +swinging censers. But, as Melchoir entered he heard strains from the +organ, and a chorus of voices was singing an anthem beginning with +the words, "Te Deum Laudamus." And when the anthem came to a close, a +man clothed in a black robe, such as scholars were wont to wear, rose +in his place upon a platform elevated above the people, and began to +speak to them about the kingdom of Christ. Melchoir listened in eager +expectancy. [Sidenote: The Truth Shall Make You Free] "The kingdom of +the Christ," the preacher said, "is the kingdom of the truth, and the +truth is to be continued and kept alive by the strength of man's belief. +Those things which have been handed down by holy men and sacred oracles +since Christ was here upon the earth, are the truths by which we live. +How can Christ live except He live in our beliefs? Why did the Father +of all intrust us with our reasons, unless it were that we should +make them the instruments of our faith and our salvation? Let us +therefore stand in our places, while we recite together the articles +of our holy faith." + +These and many such words did the scholar-preacher declare. And as he +sat there with the people, Melchoir felt the weight of the solemn and +earnest words, and he said: "So at last have I come to the end of my +search. The kingdom of Christ is in the mind of man. His kingdom is +the kingdom of the truth." + +[Sidenote: More Light Shall Break Forth] + +Then he followed the throngs as they went forth from the church; but +the star which had tarried over the lofty spire was now before him, +and the opal light wavered and trembled, as if beckoning him on; and +the words of the preacher, "we must believe," seemed to blend with the +words of Balthazar, "we must follow the star." So, reluctantly and +slowly he followed on. + +[Sidenote: Thy Sacramental Liturgies] + +But Balthazar--whither went he, following the star? Over many a rugged +way, through many a tangled thicket, through valleys and over hills. +His star tarried over no cathedrals; it lingered over no Gothic +spires. It seemed capricious and restless and tireless. At times it +seemed intent on coming to a pause over the head of some human being, +but perhaps it was because these human beings themselves were so +restless and so busy that the star could not accomplish its intent. +For Balthazar saw these men and women hurrying hither and thither on +errands of mercy, or deeds of justice; he saw them ferreting out great +wrongs, laying heavy blows on the backs of men who oppressed and +defrauded their fellow men. + +At length Balthazar seemed to understand the movements of the star, +and, drawing nearer, he would seem to hear these men repeating +cheering and encouraging words to one another. "Pure religion and +undefiled," he heard one exclaiming, "is to visit the fatherless and +widows in their affliction, and to keep himself unspotted from the +world." And another echoed, "Inasmuch as we do it to the least of +these, we do it unto Christ." + +[Sidenote: The Joy of Doing Good] + +"Ah! thought Balthazar as he listened, I see the meaning of it now; I +am coming to the end of my search. The kingdom of Christ--I have found +it. It is in the deeds of men; it is in the conscience and the serving +will. Devotion to right, this is the law of the kingdom of Christ." + +Then Balthazar turned to go in search of his comrades again; but +behold! the opal star was trembling, as if beckoning him on. So, still +doubting if he had reached the end of his search, he followed the +star. + +[Sidenote: The Paths Converge] + +Thus Gaspard, Melchoir and Balthazar, each following the star, at last +approached each other. The star of each seemed to melt and blend into +the star of the others, and the opal light stood at last in the center +of the group. Gaspard exclaimed: "I have found that which we all were +seeking. The kingdom of Christ is in the imagination; Christ lives in +what man feels." + +"Nay," said Melchoir, "I have followed the star, and I have found what +we sought. The kingdom of Christ is in the reason of man. Christ lives +in what man believes." + +"But," cried Balthazar, "my star has led me to a different end. The +kingdom of Christ is in the will of man. Christ lives in what man +does." + +"The truth," once more exclaimed Melchoir, "is the law of the +kingdom." + +"Not truth," declared Balthazar, "but justice, righteousness, goodness +and purity--these are its laws and its marks." + +"Nay, comrades beloved, hearken to me," answered Gaspard, "it is the +miracle of the divine presence. It is God among men, realized in the +holy mass. I beheld it all in yonder cathedral." + +But lo! once more the star began to tremble and to change its place. + +"Let us follow the star!" Balthazar whispered. "We will follow it," +echoed the other two. + +[Sidenote: Once More the Quest] + +Then the star led them on, and they followed together until they came +at length to the doorway of a little cottage; and within the cottage +they saw a woman bending over a cradle, and in the cradle a little +child lay sleeping. She was a peasant woman; her clothing was not +rich; the furnishing of the cottage was humble and scanty. The cradle +itself was rude, as if put together by hands unskilful in tasks like +that. But when the mother looked at her babe a sweet smile played +about her lips, and a light was in her eyes. Then all suddenly the +three men remembered another scene long before, when they were bearers +of gold and frankincense and myrrh to another babe. + +[Sidenote: He That Loveth Knoweth God] + +And while they stood and wondered by the door, there came a strong and +sturdy peasant, broad-shouldered, roughly clad, his face browned in +the sun, his hands hardened with toil. He came and stood beside the +woman, and they bent together over the cradle of the sleeping child, +and the man drew the woman tenderly toward him and kissed her brow. + +And still the three men lingered; for behold! the star stood still +above the child, and they dared not speak. But the heart of Gaspard +was saying in silence, "There is something greater than the repeated +miracle of the mass." + +And Melchoir was thinking, "There is something mightier even than the +mind; something superior to naked truth." + +[Sidenote: For God Is Love] + +And Balthazar was confessing to himself that he had found something +more potent even than the righteous deed. For here they all beheld +how life was made sweet and blessed and holy by the power of love; and +by love for a little child, in whom was all weakness and helplessness, +whose only voice was a cry, but who was all strong and mighty with the +power of God, because he could transform roughness into tenderness, +and selfishness into loving care, and poverty itself into gifts of +gold and fragrant myrrh. + +"Truly, my comrades," Balthazar said, "love is the greatest of all." + +"And now I understand," said Gaspard, "how the weak things of the +world can confound the mighty." + +"And I," added Melchoir, "see what it means for God to come to earth +in the form of a little child." + +And so they turned away, and the radiance of the star was round about +them, and they were saying to each other: "Our search at last is +ended." + +[*] Reprinted with the permission of "The Sketching Club," +Indianapolis, Ind. + + + + +LITTLE GRETCHEN AND THE WOODEN SHOE[*] + +By Elizabeth Harrison + + +Once upon a time, a long time ago, far away across the great ocean, in +a country called Germany, there could be seen a small log hut on the +edge of a great forest, whose fir trees extended for miles and miles +to the north. This little house, made of heavy hewn logs, had but one +room in it. A rough pine door gave entrance to this room, and a small +square window admitted the light. At the back of the house was built +an old-fashioned stone chimney, out of which in winter curled a thin, +blue smoke, showing that there was not very much fire within. + +Small as the house was, it was large enough for two people who lived +in it. I want to tell you a story today about these two people. One +was an old gray-haired woman, so old that the little children of the +village, nearly half a mile away, often wondered whether she had come +into the world with the huge mountains and the giant fir trees, which +stood like giants back of her small hut. Her face was wrinkled all +over with deep lines, which, if the children could only have read +aright, would have told them of many years of cheerful, happy, +self-sacrifice; of loving, anxious, watching beside sick-beds; of +quiet endurance of pain, of many a day of hunger and cold, and of a +thousand deeds of unselfish love for other people; but, of course, +they could not read this strange handwriting. They only knew that she +was old and wrinkled, and that she stooped as she walked. None of +them seemed to fear her, for her smile was always cheerful, and she +had a kindly word for each of them if they chanced to meet her on her +way to and from the village. With this old, old woman lived a very +little girl. So bright and happy was she that the travellers who +passed by the lonesome little house on the edge of the forest often +thought of a sunbeam as they saw her. These two people were known in +the village as Granny Goodyear and Little Gretchen. + +The winter had come and the frost had snapped off many of the smaller +branches of the pine trees in the forest. Gretchen and her granny were +up by daybreak each morning. After their simple breakfast of oatmeal, +Gretchen would run to the little closet and fetch Granny's old woolen +shawl, which seemed almost as old as Granny herself. Gretchen always +claimed the right to put the shawl over Granny's head, even though she +had to climb onto the wooden bench to do it. After carefully pinning +it under Granny's chin, she gave her a good-bye kiss, and Granny +started out for her morning's work in the forest. This work was +nothing more nor less than the gathering up of the twigs and branches +which the autumn winds and winter frosts had thrown upon the ground. +These were carefully gathered into a large bundle which Granny tied +together with a strong linen band. She then managed to lift the bundle +to her shoulder and trudged off to the village with it. Here she sold +the fagots for kindling wood to the people of the village. Sometimes +she would get only a few pence each day, and sometimes a dozen or +more, but on this money little Gretchen and she managed to live; they +had their home, and the forest kindly furnished the wood for the fire +which kept them warm in winter. + +In the summer time Granny had a little garden at the back of the +house, where she raised, with little Gretchen's help, a few potatoes +and turnips and onions. These she carefully stored away for winter +use. To this meagre supply, the pennies, gained by selling the twigs +from the forest, added the oatmeal for Gretchen and a little black +coffee for Granny. Meat was a thing they never thought of having. It +cost too much money. Still, Granny and Gretchen were very happy, +because they loved each other dearly. Sometimes Gretchen would be left +alone all day long in the hut, because Granny would have some work to +do in the village after selling her bundle of sticks and twigs. It was +during these long days that little Gretchen had taught herself to sing +the song which the wind sang to the pine branches. In the summer time +she learned the chirp and twitter of the birds, until her voice might +almost be mistaken for a bird's voice, she learned to dance as the +swaying shadows did, and even to talk to the stars which shone through +the little square window when Granny came home late or too tired to +talk. + +Sometimes, when the weather was fine, or her Granny had an extra +bundle of knitted stockings to take to the village, she would let +little Gretchen go along with her. It chanced that one of these trips +to the town came just the week before Christmas, and Gretchen's eyes +were delighted by the sight of the lovely Christmas trees which stood +in the window of the village store. It seemed to her that she would +never tire of looking at the knit dolls, the woolly lambs, the little +wooden shops with their queer, painted men and women in them, and all +the other fine things. She had never owned a plaything in her whole +life; therefore, toys which you and I would not think much of seemed +to her very beautiful. + +That night, after their supper of baked potatoes was over, and little +Gretchen had cleared away the dishes and swept up the hearth, because +Granny dear was so tired, she brought her own little wooden stool and +placed it very near Granny's feet and sat down upon it, folding her +hands on her lap. Granny knew that this meant that she wanted to be +told about something, so she smilingly laid away the large Bible which +she had been reading, and took up her knitting, which was as much as +to say: "Well, Gretchen, dear, Granny is ready to listen." + +"Granny," said Gretchen slowly, "It's almost Christmas time, isn't +it?" + +"Yes, dearie," said Granny, "only five days more now," and then she +sighed, but little Gretchen was so happy that she did not notice +Granny's sigh. + +"What do you think, Granny, I'll get this Christmas?" said she, +looking up eagerly into Granny's face. + +"Ah, child, child," said Granny, shaking her head, "you'll have no +Christmas this year. We are too poor for that." + +"Oh, but Granny," interrupted little Gretchen, "think of all the +beautiful toys we saw in the village today. Surely Santa Claus has +sent enough for every little child." + +"Ah, dearie, those toys are for people who can pay for them, and we +have no money to spend for Christmas toys." + +"Well, Granny," said Gretchen, "perhaps some of the little children +who live in the great house on the hill at the other end of the +village, will be willing to share some of their toys with me. They +will be glad to give some to a little girl who has none." + +"Dear child, dear child," said Granny, leaning forward and stroking +the soft, shiny hair of the little girl, "your heart is full of love. +You would be glad to bring a Christmas to every child; but their heads +are so full of what they are going to get that they forget all about +anybody else but themselves." Then she sighed and shook her head. + +"Well, Granny," said Gretchen, her bright, happy tone of voice growing +a little less joyous, "perhaps the dear Santa Claus will show some of +the village children how to make presents that do not cost money, and +some of them may surprise me Christmas morning with a present. And, +Granny, dear," added she, springing up from her low stool, "can't I +gather some of the pine branches and take them to the old sick man who +lives in the house by the mill, so that he can have the sweet smell of +our forest in his room all Christmas day?" + +"Yes, dearie," said Granny, "you may do what you can to make the +Christmas bright and happy, but you must not expect any present +yourself." + +"Oh, but, Granny," said little Gretchen, her face brightening, "you +forgot all about the shining Christmas angels, who came down to earth +and sang their wonderful song the night the beautiful Christ-Child was +born! They are so loving and good that _they_ will not forget any +little child. I shall ask my dear stars tonight to tell them of us. +You know," she added, with a look of relief, "the stars are so very +high that they must know the angels quite well as they come and go +with their messages from the loving God." + +Granny sighed as she half whispered. "Poor child, poor child!" but +Gretchen threw her arm around Granny's neck and gave her a hearty +kiss, saying as she did so: "Oh, Granny, Granny, you don't talk to the +stars often enough, else you would not be sad at Christmas time." Then +she danced all around the room, whirling her little skirts about her +to show Granny how the wind had made the snow dance that day. She +looked so droll and funny that Granny forgot her cares and worries and +laughed with little Gretchen over her new snow dance. The days passed +on and the morning before Christmas Eve came. Gretchen having tidied +up the little room--for Granny had taught her to be a careful little +housewife--was off to the forest, singing a birdlike song, almost as +happy and free as the birds themselves. She was very busy that day +preparing a surprise for Granny. First, however, she gathered the most +beautiful of the fir branches within her reach to take the next +morning to the old sick man who lived by the mill. + +The day was all too short for the happy little girl. When Granny came +trudging wearily home that night, she found the frame of the doorway +covered with green pine branches. + +"It is to welcome you, Granny! It is to welcome you!" cried Gretchen; +"our dear old home wanted to give you a Christmas welcome. Don't you +see, the branches of the evergreen make it look as if it were smiling +all over, and it is trying to say, 'A happy Christmas to you Granny'." + +Granny laughed and kissed the little girl, as they opened the door and +went in together. Here was a new surprise for Granny. The four posts +of the wooden bed, which stood in one corner of the room, had been +trimmed by the busy little fingers, with smaller and more flexible +branches of the pine trees. A small bouquet of red mountain ash +berries stood at each side of the fireplace, and these, together with +the trimmed posts of the bed, gave the plain old room quite a festive +look. Gretchen laughed and clapped her hands and danced about until +the house seemed full of music to poor, tired Granny, whose heart had +been sad as she turned toward their home that night, thinking of the +disappointment that must come to loving little Gretchen the next +morning. + +After supper was over little Gretchen drew her stool up to Granny's +side, and laying her soft, little hands on Granny's knee asked to be +told once again the story of the coming of the Christ-Child; how the +night that he was born the beautiful angels had sung their wonderful +song, and how the whole sky had become bright with a strange and +glorious light, never seen by the people of earth before. Gretchen had +heard the story many, many times before, but she never grew tired of +it, and now that Christmas Eve had come again, the happy little child +wanted to hear it once more. + +When Granny had finished telling it the two sat quiet and silent for a +little while thinking it over; then Granny rose and said that it was +time for her to go to bed. She slowly took off her heavy wooden shoes, +such as are worn in that country, and placed them beside the hearth. +Gretchen looked thoughtfully at them for a minute or two, and then she +said, "Granny, don't you think that _somebody_ in all this wide world +will think of us tonight?" + +"Nay, Gretchen, I do not think any one will." + +"Well, then, Granny," said Gretchen, "the Christmas angels will, I +know; so I am going to take one of your wooden shoes and put it on the +windowsill outside, so that they may see it as they pass by. I am sure +the stars will tell the Christmas angels where the shoe is." + +"Ah, you foolish, foolish child," said Granny, "you are only getting +ready for a disappointment. Tomorrow morning there will be nothing +whatever in the shoe. I can tell you that now." + +But little Gretchen would not listen. She only shook her head and +cried out: "Ah, Granny, you do not talk enough to the stars." With +this she seized the shoe, and opening the door, hurried out to place +it on the window sill. It was very dark without and something soft and +cold seemed to gently kiss her hair and face. Gretchen knew by this +that it was snowing, and she looked up to the sky, anxious to see if +the stars were in sight, but a strong wind was tumbling the dark, +heavy snow-clouds about and had shut away all else. + +"Never mind," said Gretchen softly to herself, "the stars are up +there, even if I can't see them, and the Christmas angels do not mind +snow storms." + +Just then a rough wind went sweeping by the little girl, whispering +something to her which she could not understand, and then it made a +sudden rush up to the snow clouds and parted them, so that the deep +mysterious sky appeared beyond, and shining down out of the midst of +it was Gretchen's favorite star. + +"Ah, little star, little star!" said the child, laughing aloud, "I +knew you were there, though I could not see you. Will you whisper to +the Christmas angels as they come by that little Gretchen wants so +very much to have a Christmas gift tomorrow morning, if they have one +to spare, and that she has put one of Granny's shoes upon the +windowsill for it?" + +A moment more and the little girl, standing on tiptoe had reached the +windowsill and placed the shoe upon it, and was back again in the +house beside Granny and the warm fire. + +The two went quietly to bed, and that night as little Gretchen knelt +to pray to the Heavenly Father, she thanked him for having sent the +Christ-Child into the world to teach all mankind to be loving and +unselfish, and in a few minutes she was sleeping, dreaming of the +Christmas angels. + +The next morning, very early, even before the sun was up, little +Gretchen was awakened by the sound of sweet music coming from the +village. She listened for a moment and then she knew that the choir +boys were singing the Christmas carols in the open air of the village +street. She sprang up out of bed and began to dress herself as quickly +as possible, singing as she dressed. While Granny was slowly putting +on her clothes, little Gretchen having finished dressing herself, +unfastened the door and hurried out to see what the Christmas angels +had left in the old wooden shoe. + +The white snow covered everything--trees, stumps, roads, and +pastures--until the whole world looked like fairy land. Gretchen +climbed up on a large stone which was beneath the window and carefully +lifted down the wooden shoe. The snow tumbled off of it in a shower +over the little girl's hands, but she did not heed that; she ran +hurriedly back into the house, putting her hand into the toe of the +shoe as she ran. + +"Oh, Granny, Granny!" she exclaimed; "you did not believe the +Christmas angels would think about us, but see, they have, they have! +Here is a dear little bird nestled down in the toe of your shoe! Oh, +isn't he beautiful?" + +Granny came forward and looked at what the child was holding lovingly +in her hand. There she saw a tiny chick-a-dee, whose wing was +evidently broken by the rough and boisterous winds of the night +before, and who had taken shelter in the safe, dry toe of the old +wooden shoe. She gently took the little bird out of Gretchen's hands, +and skilfully bound his broken wing to his side, so that he need not +hurt himself trying to fly with it. Then she showed Gretchen how to +make a nice warm nest for the little stranger, close beside the fire +and when their breakfast was ready, she let Gretchen feed the little +bird with a few moist crumbs. + +Later in the day Gretchen carried the fresh, green boughs to the old +sick man by the mill, and on her way home stopped to enjoy the +Christmas toys of some other children that she knew, never once +wishing they were hers. When she reached home she found that the +little bird had gone to sleep. Soon, however, he opened his eyes and +stretched his head up, saying just as plain as a bird can say: + +"Now, my new friends, I want you to give me something more to eat." +Gretchen gladly fed him again, and then, holding him in her lap, she +softly and gently stroked his gray feathers until the little creature +seemed to lose all fear of her. That evening Granny taught her a +Christmas hymn and told her another beautiful Christmas story. Then +Gretchen made up a funny little story to tell the birdie. He winked +his eyes and turned his head from side to side in such a droll fashion +that Gretchen laughed until the tears came. + +As Granny and she got ready for bed that night, Gretchen put her arms +softly around Granny's neck, and whispered: "What a beautiful +Christmas we have had today, Granny. Is there anything more lovely in +all the world than Christmas?" + +"Nay, child, nay," said Granny, "not to such loving hearts as yours." + +[*] Reprinted by permission of the author from her collection, +"Christmastide." Published by the Chicago Kindergarten College. + + + + +THE LITTLE SHEPHERD[*] + +By Maud Lindsay + + +The shepherd was sick and the shepherd's wife looked out from her door +with anxious eyes. "Who will carry the sheep to the pasture lands +today?" she said to her little boy Jean. + +"I will," cried Jean, "I will. Mother, let me." + +Jean and his father and mother lived long ago in a sunny land across +the sea, where flowers bloom, and birds sing, and shepherds feed their +flocks in the green valleys. Every morning, as soon as it was light, +Jean's father was up and away with his sheep. He had never missed a +morning before, and the sheep were bleating in the fold as if to say, +"Don't forget us today." + +The sheep were Jean's playfellows. There was nothing he liked better +than to wander with them in the pleasant pastures, and already they +knew his voice and followed at his call. + +"Let the lad go," said his old grandfather. "When I was no older than +he I watched my father's flock." + +Jean's father said the same thing, so the mother made haste to get the +little boy ready. + +"Eat your dinner when the shadows lie straight across the grass," she +said as she kissed him good-bye. + +"And keep the sheep from the forest paths," called his sick father. + +"And watch, for it is when the shepherd is not watching that the wolf +comes to the flock," said the old grandfather. + +"Never fear," said little Jean. "The wolf shall not have any of my +white lambs." + +They were white sheep and black sheep and frolicsome lambs in the +shepherd's flock, and each one had a name of its own. There was +Babbette, and Nannette, and Pierrot, and Jeannot,--I cannot tell them +all, but Jean knew every name. + +"Come, Bettine and Marie. Come, Pierrot and Croisette. Come, pretty +ones all," he called as he led them from the fold that day. "I will +carry you to the meadows where the daisies grow." + +"Baa," answered the sheep, well satisfied, as they followed him down +the king's highway, and over the hill to the pasture lands. + +The other shepherds were already there with their flocks, so Jean was +not lonely. He watered his sheep at the dancing brook that ran through +the flowers, and led them along its shady banks to feed in the sunny +fields beyond, and not one lambkin strayed from his care to the forest +paths. + +The forest lay dim and shadowy on one side of the pasture lands. The +deer lived there, and the boars that fed upon acorns, and many other +creatures that loved the wild woods. There had been wolves in the +forest, but the king's knights had driven them away and the shepherds +feared them no longer. Only the old men like Jean's grandfather, and +the little boys like Jean, talked of them still. + +Jean was not afraid. Oh, no. There was not a lamb in the flock so +merry and fearless as he. He sang with the birds and ran with the +brook, and laughed till the echoes laughed with him as he watched the +sheep from early morn to noon, when the shadows fell straight across +the grass and it was time for him to eat his dinner. + +There were little cakes in Jean's dinner basket. He had seen his +mother put them there, but he had not tasted a single one when, out on +the king's highway, beyond the hill, he heard the sound of pipes and +drums, and the tramp, tramp of many feet. + +The other shepherds heard too, and they began to listen and to stare +and to run. "The king and his knights are coming," they cried. "Come +let us see them as they pass by." + +"Who will take care of the sheep?" asked Jean, but nobody answered, so +he too left his dinner and ran with the rest, away from the pastures +and up the hillside path that led to the highway. + +"How pleased my mother will be when I tell her that I have seen the +king," he said to himself, and he was hurrying over the hill top when +all at once he remembered the forest, and the wolf, and his +grandfather's words. + +"Come on," called the others. + +"I must stay with the sheep," answered he; and he turned and went +back, though the pipes and the drums all seemed to say, "Come this +way, come this way." He could scarcely keep from crying as he +listened. + +There was nothing in sight to harm the sheep, and the pasture lands +were quiet and peaceful, but into the forest that very day a hungry +gray wolf had come. His eyes were bright and his ears were sharp and +his four feet were as soft as velvet, as he came creeping, creeping, +creeping under the houses and through the tanglewood. He put his nose +out and sniffed the air, and he put his head out and spied the sheep +left alone in the meadows. "Now's my chance," he said, and out he +sprang just as little Jean down the hill. + +"Wolf, wolf, wolf!" shouted Jean. "Wolf, wolf, wolf!" He was only a +little boy, but he was brave and his voice rang clear as a bugle call +over the valley, and over the hill, "Wolf, wolf, wolf!" + +The shepherds and knights and the king himself came running and riding +to answer his cry, and as for the gray wolf, he did not even stop to +look behind him as he sped away to the forest shades. He ran so fast +and he ran so far that he was never seen in the king's country again, +though the shepherds in the pastures watched for him day after day. + +Jean led his flock home at eventide, white sheep and black sheep and +frolicsome lambs, not one was missing. + +"Was the day long?" asked his mother, who was watching in the doorway +for him. + +"Are the sheep all in?" called the sick father. + +"Did the wolf come?" said the old grandfather; but there is no need +for me to tell you what _Jean_ said. You can imagine that for +yourself. + +[*] From "More Mother Stories," by Maud Lindsay. Used by permission of +the author and the publishers--the Milton Bradley Company. + + + + +BABOUSCKA[*] + +Russian Legend + + +It was the night the dear Christ Child came to Bethlehem. In a country +far away from Him, an old, old woman named Babouscka sat in her snug +little house by her warm fire. The wind was drifting the snow outside +and howling down the chimney, but it only made Babouscka's fire burn +more brightly. + +"How glad I am that I may stay indoors!" said Babouscka, holding her +hands out to the bright blaze. But suddenly she heard a loud rap at +her door. She opened it and her candle shone on three old men standing +outside in the snow. Their beards were as white as the snow, and so +long that they reached the ground. Their eyes shone kindly in the +light of Babouscka's candle, and their arms were full of precious +things--boxes of jewels, and sweet-smelling oils, and ointments. + +"We have traveled far, Babouscka," said they, "and we stop to tell you +of the Baby Prince born this night in Bethlehem. He comes to rule the +world and teach all men to be loving and true. We carry Him gifts. +Come with us, Babouscka!" + +But Babouscka looked at the driving snow, and then inside at her cozy +room and the crackling fire. "It is too late for me to go with you, +good sirs," she said, "the weather is too cold." She went inside again +and shut the door, and the old men journeyed on to Bethlehem without +her. But as Babouscka sat by her fire, rocking, she began to think +about the little Christ Child, for she loved all babies. + +"Tomorrow I will go to find Him," she said; "tomorrow, when it is +light, and I will carry Him some toys." + +So when it was morning Babouscka put on her long cloak, and took her +staff, and filled a basket with the pretty things a baby would +like--gold balls, and wooden toys, and strings of silver cobwebs--and +she set out to find the Christ Child. + +But, oh! Babouscka had forgotten to ask the three old men the road to +Bethlehem, and they had traveled so far through the night that she +could not overtake them. Up and down the roads she hurried, through +woods and fields and towns, saying to whomsoever she met: "I go to +find the Christ Child. Where does he lie? I bring some pretty toys for +His sake." + +But no one could tell her the way to go, and they all said: "Farther +on, Babouscka, farther on." So she traveled on, and on, and on for +years and years--but she never found the little Christ Child. + +They say that old Babouscka is traveling still, looking for Him. When +it comes Christmas eve, and the children are lying fast asleep, +Babouscka comes softly through the snowy fields and towns, wrapped in +her long cloak and carrying her basket on her arm. With her staff she +raps gently at the doors and goes inside and holds her candle close to +the little children's faces. + +"Is He here?" she asks. "Is the little Christ Child here?" And then +she turns sorrowfully away again, crying: "Farther on, farther on." +But before she leaves she takes a toy from her basket and lays it +beside the pillow for a Christmas gift. "For His sake," she says +softly and then hurries on through the years and forever in search of +the little Christ Child. + +[*] From "For the Children's Hour," by Bailey and Lewis. Used by +permission of the authors and also the publishers--Milton Bradley +Company. + + + + +THE BOY WITH THE BOX + +By Mary Griggs Van Voorhis + + +It was an ideal Christmas day. The sun shone brightly but the air was +crisp and cold, and snow and ice lay sparkling everywhere. A light +wind, the night before, had swept the blue, icebound river clean of +scattering snow; and, by two o'clock in the afternoon, the broad bend +near Creighton's mill was fairly alive with skaters. The girls in gay +caps and scarfs, the boys in sweaters and mackinaws of every +conceivable hue, with here and there a plump, matronly figure in a +plush coat or a tiny fellow in scarlet, made a picture of life and +brilliancy worthy of an artist's finest skill. + +Tom Reynolds moved in and out among the happy throng, with swift, easy +strokes, his cap on the back of his curly head, and his brown eyes +shining with excitement. Now and again, he glanced down with +pardonable pride, at the brand new skates that twinkled beneath his +feet. "Jolly Ramblers," sure enough "Jolly Ramblers" they were! Ever +since Ralph Evans had remarked, with a tantalizing toss of his +handsome head, that "no game fellow would try to skate on anything but +'Jolly Ramblers,'" Tom had yearned, with an inexpressible longing, for +a pair of these wonderful skates. And now they were his and the ice +was fine and the Christmas sun was shining! + +Tom was rounding the big bend for the fiftieth time, when he saw, +skimming gracefully toward him through the merry crowd, a tall boy in +a fur-trimmed coat, his handsome head proudly erect. + +"That's Ralph Evans now," said Tom to himself. "Just wait till you see +these skates, old boy, and maybe you won't feel so smart!" And with +slow, cautious strokes, he made his way through laughing boys and +girls to a place just in front of the tall skater, coming toward him +down the broad white way. When Ralph was almost upon him, Tom paused +and in conspicuous silence, looked down at his shining skates. + +"Hullo," said Ralph good naturedly, seizing Tom's arm and swinging +around. Then, taking in the situation with a careless glance, he +added, "Get a new pair of skates for Christmas?" + +"'Jolly Ramblers,'" said Tom impressively, "the best 'Jolly Ramblers' +in the market!" + +Ralph was a full half head the taller, but, as Tom delivered himself +of this speech with his head held high, he felt every inch as tall as +the boy before him. + +If Ralph was deeply impressed he failed to show it, as he answered +carelessly, "Huh, that so? Pretty good little skates they are, the +'Jolly Ramblers!'" + +"You said no game fellow would use any other make," said Tom hotly. + +"O but that was nearly a year ago," said Ralph. "I got a new pair of +skates for Christmas, too," he added, as if it had just occurred to +him, "'Club House' skates, something new in the market just this +season. Just look at the curve of that skate, will you?" he added, +lifting a foot for inspection, "and that clamp that you couldn't shake +off if you had to! They're guaranteed for a year, too, and if anything +gives out, you get a new pair for nothing. Three and a half, they +cost, at Mr. Harrison's hardware store. I gave my 'Jolly Ramblers' to +a kid about your size. A mighty good little skate they are!" And, with +a long, graceful stroke, Ralph Evans skated away. + +And it seemed to Tom Reynolds that all his Christmas joy went skimming +away behind him. The sun still shone, the ice still gleamed, the +skaters laughed and sang, but Tom moved slowly on, with listless, +heavy strokes. The "Jolly Ramblers" still twinkled beneath his feet, +but he looked down at them no more. What was the use of "Jolly +Ramblers" when Ralph Evans had a pair of "Club House" skates that cost +a dollar more, had a graceful curve, and a faultless clamp, and were +guaranteed for a year? + +It was only four o'clock when Tom slipped his new skates carelessly +over his shoulder and started up the bank for home. He was slouching +down the main street, head down, hands thrust deep into his pockets, +when, on turning a corner, he ran plump into--a full moon! Now I know +it is rather unusual for full moons to be walking about the streets by +daylight; but that is the only adequate description of the round, +freckled face that beamed at Tom from behind a great box, held by two +sturdy arms. + +"That came pretty near being a collision," said the owner of the full +moon, still beaming, as he set down the box and leaned against a +building to rest a moment. + +"Nobody hurt, I guess," said Tom. + +"Been down to the ice?" asked the boy, eagerly. "I could see the +skaters from Patton's store. O, I see, you got some new skates for +Christmas! Ain't they beauties, now?" And he beamed on the despised +"Jolly Ramblers" with his heart in his little blue eyes. + +"A pretty good little pair of skates," said Tom, in Ralph's +condescending tone. + +"Good! Well I should guess yes! And Christmas ice just made o' +purpose!" In spite of his ill humor, Tom could not help responding to +the warm interest of the shabby boy at his side. He knew him to be +Harvey McGinnis, the son of a poor Irish widow, who worked at Patton's +department store out of school hours. Looking at the great box with an +awakening interest, he remarked, kindly, "What you been doin' with +yourself on Christmas day?" + +"Want to know, sure enough?" said Harvey, mysteriously, his round face +beaming more brightly than ever, "Well, I've been doin' the Santy +Claus act down at Patton's store. + +"About a week ago," he went on, leaning back easily against the tall +building and thrusting his hands down deep into his well worn pockets, +"about a week ago, as I was cleaning out the storeroom, I came on +three big boxes with broken dolls in 'em. Beauties they were, I kin +tell you, the Lady Jane in a blue silk dress, the Lady Clarabel in +pink, and the Lady Matilda in shimmerin' white. Nothin' wrong with 'em +either only broken rubbers that put their jints out o' whack and set +their heads arollin' this way and that. 'They could be fixed in no +time, I ses to myself, 'and what a prize they'd be fer the kids to be +sure!' For mom and me had racked our brains considerable how we'd +scrape together the money for Christmas things for the girls. + +"So I went to the boss and I asked him right out what he'd charge me +for the three ladies just as they wus, and he ses, 'Jimmie,' he ses +(I've told him me name a dozen times, but he allus calls me 'Jimmie'), +'Jimmie,' he ses, 'if you'll come down on Christmas day and help me +take down the fixin's and fix up the store for regular trade, I'll +give you the dolls fer nothin',' he ses. + +"So I explained to the kids that Santy'd be late to our house this +year (with so many to see after it wouldn't be strange) and went down +to the store early this morning and finished me work and fixed up the +ladies es good es new. Would you like to be seein' 'em, now?" he +added, turning to the great box with a look of pride. + +"Sure, I'd like to see 'em," said Tom. + +With careful, almost reverent touch, Harvey untied the string and +opened the large box, disclosing three smaller boxes, one above the +other. Opening the first box, he revealed a really handsome doll in a +blue silk dress, with large dark eyes that opened and shut and dark, +curling locks of "real hair." + +"This is the Lady Jane," he said, smoothing her gay frock with gentle +fingers. "We're goin' to give her to Kitty. Kitty's hair is pretty and +curly, but she hates it, 'cause it's red; and she thinks black hair is +the prettiest kind in the world. Ain't it funny how all of us will be +wantin' what we don't have ourselves?" + +Tom did not reply to this bit of philosophy; but he laid a repentant +hand on the "Jolly Ramblers" as if he knew he had wronged them in his +heart. "That's as handsome a doll as ever I saw and no mistake," he +said. + +Pleased with this praise, Harvey opened the second box and disclosed +the Lady Matilda with fair golden curls and a dress of "shimmerin' +white." "The Lady Matilda goes to Josephine," said Harvey. "Josephine +has black hair, straight as a string, and won't she laugh, though, to +see them fetchin' yellow curls?" + +"She surely ought to be glad," said Tom. + +The Lady Clarabel was another fair-haired lady in a gown of the +brightest pink. "This here beauty's for the baby," said Harvey, his +eyes glowing. "She don't care if the hair's black or yellow, but won't +that stunnin' dress make her eyes pop out?" + +"They'll surely believe in Santy when they see those beauties," said +Tom. + +"That's just what I was sayin' to mom this morning," said Harvey. +"Kitty's had some doubts, (she's almost nine), but when she sees those +fine ladies she'll be dead sure mom and I didn't buy 'em. If I had a +Santy Claus suit, I'd dress up and hand 'em out myself." + +Tom's face lighted with a bright idea. "My brother Bob's got a Santa +Claus suit that he used in a show last Christmas," he said. "Say, let +me dress up and play Santa for you. The girls would never guess who I +was!" + +"Wouldn't they stare, though!" said Harvey, delightedly. "But do you +think you'd want to take time," he asked apologetically, "and you with +a new pair of skates and the ice like this?" + +"Of course, I want to if you'll let me," said Tom. "I'll skate down +the river and meet you anywhere you say." + +"Out in our back yard, then, at seven o'clock," said Harvey. + +"All right, I'll be there!" and with head up, and skates clinking, Tom +hurried away. + +It was a flushed, excited boy who burst into the Reynolds' quiet +sitting room a few minutes later, with his skates still hanging on his +shoulder and his cap in his hand. "Say, mother," he cried, "can I have +Bob's Santa Claus suit this evening, please? I'm going to play Santa +Claus for Harvey McGinnis!" + +"Play Santa Claus for Harvey McGinnis. What do you mean, child?" + +"You know Mrs. McGinnis, mother, that poor woman who lives in the +little house by the river. Her husband got killed on the railroad last +winter, you know. Well, Harvey, her boy, has fixed up some grand +looking dolls for his sisters and he wants me to come out and play +Santa tonight," and Tom launched out into a long story about Harvey +and his good fortune. + +"He must be a splendid boy," said Mrs. Reynolds, heartily, "and I am +sure I shall be glad to have you go." + +"And another thing, mother," said Tom, hesitating a little, "do you +think grandma would care if I spent part of that five dollars she gave +me for a pair of skates for Harvey? He hasn't any skates at all, and I +know he'd just love to have some!" + +"It is generous of you to think of it," said his mother, much pleased, +"and you would still have two and a half for that little trip down to +grandma's." + +"But I'd like to get him some 'Club House' skates," said Tom. "They're +a new kind that cost three dollars and a half." + +"But I thought you said the 'Jolly Ramblers' were the best skates +made?" Mrs. Reynolds looked somewhat hurt as she glanced from Tom to +the skates on his shoulder and back to Tom again. + +"They are, mother, they're just dandies!" said Tom blushing with +shame that he could ever have despised his mother's gift. "But these +'Club House' skates are just the kind for Harvey. You see, Harvey's +shoes are old and worn, and these 'Club House' skates have clamps that +you can't shake loose if you have to. Then, if anything happens to +them before the year's up, you get a new pair free; and Harvey, you +know, wouldn't have any money to be fixing skates." + +"Well, do as you like," said Mrs. Reynolds, pleased with Tom's +eagerness, for such a spell of generosity was something new in her +selfish younger son. "But remember, you will have to wait a while for +your visit to grandma." + +"All right, and thank you, mother," said Tom. "You can buy the skates +down at Harrison's and I'm going over and ask Mr. Harrison if he won't +open up the store and get a pair for me for a special time like this. +I'm most sure he will!" and away he flew. + +That evening, at seven, as the moon was rising over the eastern hills, +a short, portly Santa Claus stepped out of the dry reeds by the river +bank and walked with wonderfully nimble feet, right into the McGinnis' +little back yard. As he neared the small back porch, a dark figure +rose to greet him, one hand held up in warning, the other holding at +arm's length, a bulky grain sack, full to the brim. + +"Here's yer pack, Santy," he whispered, gleefully. "They're all +waitin' in the front room yonder. I'll slip in the back way, whilst +you go round and give a good thump at the front door and mom'll let +you in." + +Trembling with eagerness, Tom tiptoed round the house, managing to +slip an oblong package into the capacious depths of the big sack as +he did so. Thump, thump! how his knock reëchoed in the frosty air! The +door swung wide, and Mrs. McGinnis' gaunt figure stood before him. + +"Good evenin', Santy, come right in," she said. + +Tom had always thought what a homely woman Harvey's mother was when he +happened to meet her at the grocery, with her thin red hair drawn +severely back from her gaunt face, and a black shawl over her head. +But as he looked up into her big, kind face, so full of Christmas +sunshine, he wondered he could ever have thought her anything but +lovely. The room was small and bare, but wonderfully gay with pine and +bits of red and green crepe paper, saved from the 'fixins' at the +store. And on a large bed in the corner sat the three little girls, +Kitty with her bright curls bobbing, Josephine with her black braids +sticking straight out, and the baby with tiny blue eyes that twinkled +and shone like Harvey's. + +The fine speech that Tom had been saying over to himself for the past +two hours seemed to vanish into thin air before this excited little +audience. But in faltering, stammering tones, which everyone was too +excited to notice, he managed to say something about "Merry Christmas" +and "good children" and then proceeded to open the magic sack. "Miss +Kitty McGinnis!" he called, in deep, gruff tones. Kitty took the box +he offered with shy embarrassment, slowly drew back the lid and gave a +cry of amazement and delight. "A doll, O the loveliest doll that ever +was!" she cried. Then turning to her brother, she whispered as softly +as excitement would permit, "O Harvey, I'm afeard ye paid too much!" + +"Aw, go on!" said Harvey, his face more like a full moon than ever. +"Don't ye know that Santy kin do whatever he wants to?" + +The other dolls were received with raptures, Josephine stroking the +golden curls of the Lady Matilda with wondering fingers, and the baby +dancing round and round, waving the pink-robed Lady Clarabel above her +head. + +"Mr. Harvey McGinnis!" came the gruff tones of Santa Claus; and Harvey +smiled over to his mother as he drew out a pair of stout cloth gloves. + +"Mrs. McGinnis!" And that good lady smiled back, as she shook out a +dainty white apron with a coarse embroidery ruffle. + +"I reckon Santy wanted you to wear that of a Sunday afternoon," said +Harvey, awkwardly. + +"And I'll be proud to do it!" said his mother. + +Little sacks of candy were next produced and everyone settled down to +enjoy it, thinking that the bottom of the big sack must be reached, +when Santa called out in tones that trembled beneath the gruffness, +"Another package for Mr. Harvey McGinnis!" + +"Fer me--why--what--" said Harvey, taking the heavy oblong bundle; +then, as the sparkling "Club House" skates met his view, his face lit +up with a glory that Tom never forgot. The glory lasted but a moment, +then he turned a troubled face toward the bulky old saint. + +"You never ought to a done it," he said. "These must have cost a lot!" + +"Aw, go on," was the reply in a distinctly boyish tone, "don't you +know that Santy can do whatever he wants to?" and, with a prodigious +bow, old Santa was gone. + +A few minutes later, a slender boy with a bundle under his arm, was +skating swiftly down the shining river in the moonlight. As he rounded +the bend, a tall figure in a fur-trimmed coat came skimming slowly +toward him, and a voice called out in Ralph Evans' condescending +tones, "Well, how are the 'Jolly Ramblers' doing tonight?" + +But the answer, this time, was clear and glad and triumphant. "The +best in the world," said Tom, "and isn't this the glorious night for +skating?" + + + + +THE WORKER IN SANDALWOOD[*] + +By Marjorie L. C. Pickthall + + +The good curé of Terminaison says that this tale of Hyacinthe's is all +a dream. But then Madame points triumphantly to the little cabinet of +sandalwood in the corner of her room. It had stood there for many +years now, and the dust has gathered in the fine lines of the little +birds' feathers, and softened the petals of the lilies carved at the +corners. And the wood has taken on a golden gleam like the memory of a +sunset. + +"What of that, my friend?" says Madame, pointing to the cabinet. And +the old curé bows his head. + +"It may be so. God is very good," he says gently. But he is never +quite sure what he may believe. + +On that winter day long ago, Hyacinthe was quite sure of one thing and +that was that the workshop was very cold. There was no fire in it, and +only one little lamp when the early dark drew on. The tools were so +cold they scorched his fingers, and feet were so cold he danced +clumsily in the shavings to warm them. He was a great clumsy boy of +fourteen, dark-faced, dull-eyed, and uncared for. He was clumsy +because it is impossible to be graceful when you are growing very fast +and have not enough to eat. He was dull-eyed because all eyes met his +unlovingly. He was uncared for because no one knew the beauty of his +soul. But his heavy young hands could carve things like birds and +flowers perfectly. On this winter evening he was just wondering if he +might lay aside the tools, and creep home to the cold loft where he +slept, when he heard Pierre L'Oreillard's voice shouting outside. + +"Be quick, be quick, and open the door, thou _imbecile_. It is I, thy +master." + +"_Oui, mon maitre_," said Hyacinthe, and he shambled to the door and +opened it. + +"Slow worm!" cried Pierre, and he cuffed Hyacinthe as he passed in. +Hyacinthe rubbed his head and said nothing. He was used to blows. He +wondered why his master was in the workshop at that time of day +instead of drinking brandy at the Cinq Chateaux. + +Pierre L'Oreillard had a small heavy bundle under his arm, wrapped in +sacking, and then in burlap, and then in fine soft cloths. He laid it +on a pile of shavings, and unfolded it carefully; and a dim sweetness +filled the dark shed and hung heavily in the thin winter sunbeams. + +"It is a piece of wood," said Hyacinthe in slow surprise. He knew that +such wood had never been seen in Terminaison. + +Pierre L'Oreillard rubbed the wood respectfully with his knobby +fingers. + +"It is sandalwood," he explained to Hyacinthe, pride of knowledge +making him quite amiable, "a most precious wood that grows in warm +countries, thou great goblin. Smell it, idiot. It is sweeter than +cedar. It is to make a cabinet for the old Madame at the big house." + +"_Oui, mon maitre_," said the dull Hyacinthe. + +"Thy great hands shall shape and smooth the wood, _nigaud_, and I +will render it beautiful," said Pierre, puffing out his chest. + +"Yes, Master," answered Hyacinthe humbly, "and when is it to be ready +for Madame?" + +"Madame will want it perhaps next week, for that is Christmas. It is +to be finished and ready on the holy festival, great sluggard. Hearest +thou?" and he cuffed Hyacinthe's ears again furiously. + +Hyacinthe knew that the making of the cabinet would fall to him, as +most of the other work did. When Pierre L'Oreillard was gone he +touched the strange sweet wood and at last laid his cheek against it, +while the fragrance caught his breath. "How it is beautiful!" said +Hyacinthe, and for a moment his eyes glowed, and he was happy. Then +the light passed and with bent head he shuffled back to his bench +through a foam of white shavings curling almost to his knees. + +"Madame will want the cabinet for Christmas," repeated Hyacinthe to +himself, and fell to work harder than ever, though it was so cold in +the shed that his breath hung in the air like a little silvery cloud. +There was a tiny window on his right, through which, when it was clear +of frost, one looked on Terminaison; and that was cheerful, and made +him whistle. But to the left, through the chink of the ill-fitting +door, there was nothing to be seen but the forest, and the road dying +under the snow. + +Brandy was good at the Cinq Chateaux and Pierre L'Oreillard gave +Hyacinthe plenty of directions, but no further help with the cabinet. + +"That is to be finished for Madame at the festival, sluggard," said he +every day, cuffing Hyacinthe about the head, "finished, and with a +prettiness about the corners, hearest thou, _ourson_?" + +"Yes, Monsieur," said Hyacinthe in his slow way; "I will try to finish +it. But if I hurry I shall spoil it." + +Pierre's little eyes flickered. "See that it is done, and done +properly. I suffer from a delicacy of the constitution and a little +feebleness of the legs these days, so that I cannot handle the tools +properly. I must leave this work to thee, _gacheur_. And stand up and +touch a hand to thy cap when I speak to thee, slow-worm." + +"Yes, monsieur," said Hyacinthe wearily. + +It is hard to do all the work and to be beaten into the bargain. And +fourteen is not very old. Hyacinthe worked on at the cabinet with his +slow and exquisite skill. But on Christmas eve he was still at work, +and the cabinet unfinished. + +"The master will beat me," thought Hyacinthe, and he trembled a +little, for Pierre's beatings were cruel. "But if I hurry, I shall +spoil the wood, and it is too beautiful to be spoiled." + +But he trembled again when Pierre came into the workshop, and he stood +up and touched his cap. + +"Is the cabinet finished, _imbecile_?" asked Pierre. And Hyacinthe +answered in a low voice, "No, it is not finished yet, monsieur." + +"Then work on it all night, and show it to me completed in the +morning, or thy bones shall mourn thine idleness," said Pierre, with a +wicked look in his little eyes. And he shut Hyacinthe into the shed +with a smoky lamp, his tools, and the sandalwood cabinet. + +It was nothing unusual. He had been often left before to finish a +piece of work overnight while Pierre went off to his brandies. But +this was Christmas eve, and he was very tired. Even the scent of the +sandalwood could not make him fancy he was warm. The world seemed to +be a black place, full of suffering and despair. + +"In all the world, I have no friend," said Hyacinthe, staring at the +flame of the lamp. "In all the world, there is no one to care whether +I live or die. In all the world, no place, no heart, no love. O kind +God, is there a place, a love for me in another world?" + +I hope you feel very sorry for Hyacinthe, lonely, and cold, and shut +up in the workshop on the eve of Christmas. He was but an overgrown, +unhappy child. And I think with old Madame that for unhappy children, +at this season, no help seems too divine for faith. + +"There is no one to care for me," said Hyacinthe. And he even looked +at the chisel in his hand, thinking that by a touch of that he might +lose it all, and be at peace, somewhere, not far from God. Only it was +forbidden. Then came the tears, and great sobs that shook him, so that +he scarcely heard the gentle rattling of the latch. + +He stumbled to the door, opening it on the still woods and the frosty +stars. And a lad who stood outside in the snow said, "I see you are +working late, comrade. May I come in?" + +Hyacinthe brushed his ragged sleeve across his eyes and nodded "Yes." +Those little villages strung along the great river see strange +wayfarers at times. And Hyacinthe said to himself that surely here was +such a one. Blinking into the stranger's eyes, he lost for a flash the +first impression of youth, and received one of incredible age or +sadness. But the wanderer's eyes were only quiet, very quiet, like +the little pools in the wood where the wild does went to drink. As he +turned within the door, smiling at Hyacinthe and shaking some snow +from his cap, he did not seem to be more than sixteen or so. + +"It is very cold outside," he said. "There is a big oak tree on the +edge of the fields that had split in the frost and frightened all the +little squirrels asleep there. Next year it will make an even better +home for them. And see what I found close by!" He opened his fingers +and showed Hyacinthe a little sparrow lying unruffled in the palm. + +"_Pauvrette!_" said the dull Hyacinthe. "_Pauvrette!_ Is it then +dead?" He touched it with a gentle forefinger. + +"No," answered the strange boy, "it is not dead. We will put it here +among the shavings, not far from the lamp, and it will be well by the +morning." + +He smiled at Hyacinthe again, and the shambling lad felt dimly as if +the scent of the sandalwood were sweeter, and the lamp-flame clearer. +But the stranger's eyes were only quiet, quiet. + +"Have you come far?" asked Hyacinthe. "It is a bad season for +traveling, and the wolves are out." + +"A long way," said the other. "A long, long way. I heard a child +cry--" + +"There is no child here," put in Hyacinthe. "Monsieur L'Oreillard says +children cost too much money. But if you have come far, you must need +food and fire, and I have neither. At the Cinq Chateaux you will find +both." + +The stranger looked at him again with those quiet eyes, and Hyacinthe +fancied that his face was familiar. "I will stay here," he said; "you +are late at work, and you are unhappy." + +"Why as to that," answered Hyacinthe, rubbing his cheeks and ashamed +of his tears, "most of are sad at one time or another, the good God +knows. Stay here and welcome if it pleases you; and you may take a +share of my bed, though it is no more than a pile of balsam boughs and +an old blanket in the loft. But I must work at this cabinet, for the +drawers must be finished and the handles put on and the corners +carved, all by the holy morning; or my wages will be paid with a +stick." + +"You have a hard master," put in the other, "if he would pay you with +blows upon the feast of Noel." + +"He is hard enough," said Hyacinthe, "but once he gave me a dinner of +sausages and white wine; and once, in the summer, melons. If my eyes +will stay open, I will finish this by morning. Stay with me an hour or +so, comrade, and talk to me of your travels, so that the time may pass +more quickly." + +And while Hyacinthe worked, he told,--of sunshine and dust, of the +shadow of vine-leaves on the flat white walls of a house; of rosy +doves on the roof; of the flowers that come out in the spring, +anemones crimson and blue, and white cyclamen in the shadow of the +rocks; of the olive, the myrtle, and the almond; until Hyacinthe's +fingers ceased working, and his sleepy eyes blinked wonderingly. + +"See what you have done, comrade," he said at last; "you have told me +of such pretty things that I have done but little work for an hour. +And now the cabinet will never be finished, and I shall be beaten." + +"Let me help you," smiled the other. "I also was bred a carpenter." + +At first Hyacinthe would not, fearing to trust the sweet wood out of +his own hands. But at length he allowed the stranger to fit in one of +the drawers. And so deftly was it done that Hyacinthe pounded his +fists on the bench in admiration. "You have a pretty knack," he cried. +"It seemed as if you did but hold the drawer in your hands a moment, +and hey! it jumped into its place." + +"Let me fit in the other little drawers while you rest awhile," said +the stranger. So Hyacinthe curled up among the shavings, and the other +boy fell to work upon the little cabinet of sandalwood. + +Hyacinthe was very tired. He lay still among the shavings, and thought +of all the boy had told him, of the hillside flowers, the laughing +leaves, the golden bloom of the anise, and the golden sun upon the +roads until he was warm. And all the time the boy with the quiet eyes +was at work upon the cabinet, smoothing, fitting, polishing. + +"You do better work than I," said Hyacinthe once, and the stranger +answered, "I was lovingly taught." And again Hyacinthe said, "It is +growing towards morning. In a little while I will get up and help +you." + +"Lie still and rest," said the other boy. And Hyacinthe lay still. His +thoughts began to slide into dreams, and he woke with a little start, +for there seemed to be music in the shed; though he could not tell +whether it came from the strange boy's lips, or from the shappy tools +as he used them, or from the stars. + +"The stars are much paler," thought Hyacinthe. "Soon it will be +morning, and the corners are not carved yet. I must get up and help +this kind one in a little moment. Only the music and the sweetness +seem to fold me close, so that I may not move." + +Then behind the forest there shone a pale glow of dawn, and in +Terminaison the church bells began to ring. "Day will soon be here," +thought Hyacinthe, "and with day will come Monsieur L'Oreillard and +his stick. I must get up and help for even yet the corners are not +carved." + +But the stranger looked at him, smiling as though he loved him, and +laid his brown finger lightly on the four empty corners of the +cabinet. And Hyacinthe saw the squares of reddish wood ripple and +heave and break, as little clouds when the wind goes through the sky. +And out of them thrust forth the little birds, and after them the +lilies, for a moment living; but even as Hyacinthe looked, settling +back into the sweet reddish-brown wood. Then the stranger smiled +again, laid all the tools in order, and, opening the door, went away +into the woods. + +Hyacinthe crept slowly to the door. The winter sun, half risen, filled +all the frosty air with splendid gold. Far down the road a figure +seemed to move amid the glory, but the splendor was such that +Hyacinthe was blinded. His breath came sharply as the glow beat on the +wretched shed, on the old shavings, on the cabinet with the little +birds and the lilies carved at the corners. + +He was too pure of heart to feel afraid. But "Blessed be the Lord," +whispered Hyacinthe, clasping his slow hands, "for He hath visited and +redeemed His people. But who will believe?" + +Then the sun of Christ's day rose gloriously, and the little sparrow +came from his nest among the shavings and shook his wings to the +light. + +[*] Reprinted by permission of the publishers of "Everyland." + + + + +THE SHEPHERD WHO DIDN'T GO[*] + +By Jay T. Stocking + + +You have all heard of the shepherds who went to Bethlehem, but I do +not believe any of you have heard of the shepherd who didn't go. The +Bible does not say anything about him, but his story has come to me, +and I am going to tell it to you. + +The city of Bethlehem stood on a hill. Below the town, with its steep +narrow streets and white walls, were gray olive orchards. Below the +orchards were gardens bright with flowers. Below the gardens lay green +meadows, and beyond these pasture-lands that stretched away to the +wilderness plains where little patches of grass grew among the bushes +and between the great rocks. There were caves among these rocks where +wolves used to skulk and sometimes robbers hid. So the shepherds who +guarded their flocks in these wild pastures dared not leave them +alone. + +One clear beautiful night, many centuries ago, four shepherds were +watching their flocks on these pastures. Samuel, Ezra, Joel, and +Dahvid were their names. Samuel, Ezra, and Joel were strong men, no +longer young, with shaggy eyebrows and brown beards; Ezra's was short, +Joel's long, and Samuel's streaked with gray. They owned the flocks +which they tended. Dahvid was a boy with ruddy cheeks, bright eyes, +and strong lithe limbs. He cared for the flocks of old Abraham. +Abraham was old and rich, and did not work any more, but hired +Dahvid, whose family was very poor, to care for his sheep. + +The flocks of the four shepherds were lying quiet on the plain far +below the city, and near by Samuel, Ezra, Joel, and Dahvid lay wrapped +in their shepherds' cloaks. + +"Samuel," said Dahvid, rising upon his elbow. + +"What is it, Dahvid?" asked the other in a deep voice. + +"Are you not glad that you tend sheep in Bethlehem instead of some +distant place?" + +"Why, Dahvid?" asked Samuel sleepily. + +"Because it is in Bethlehem that the King we have been looking for so +long is to be born. I have been reading it in the prophets only +today." + +"Have you only just heard of that?" asked Ezra sourly. + +"No," replied the boy hotly. "I have heard my mother tell of it ever +since I can remember, and I have read it over and over again. Samuel!" + +"Yes, Dahvid?" + +"Do you think we shall ever see the promised King?" + +"I do not know, my boy," the older man answered sadly. "We have waited +long, and there seems little hope for Israel now. But he will come +some day, he will come some day. Why do you ask, Dahvid?" + +"I cannot tell. It is often in my mind. Something makes me think of it +tonight. Perhaps it is because I read of him today. Samuel, I would +walk to the end of the earth to see the Christ-child." + +"Well, you need not start now," grumbled Ezra, and Joel added roughly, +"Go to sleep, boy, the hour is late." + +It was much later before Dahvid fell asleep, for his head was full of +dreams, and the stories of wonderful days to come that his mother had +told him. But at length he joined the rest in healthy slumber. + +Suddenly it seemed to each of them that something had passed over him, +and touched him lightly on the cheek. The older men raised themselves +on their elbows, but Dahvid sprang to his feet. At first they saw only +a great light, which nearly blinded them, then they discerned a +shining form in the sky, and heard a voice saying: "Be not afraid; for +behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy which shall be to all +the people; for there is born to you this day in the city of David a +Saviour, who is Christ the Lord. And this is the sign unto you: Ye +shall find a babe wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger." + +And then all the sky was full of light, and the air was full of +heavenly voices, singing, "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth +peace, good will toward men." + +While the shepherds listened, half joyful, half afraid, the light +faded and the voices floated away--"Good will to men--to men--to men," +and all was still as before. For a moment the shepherds looked at each +other in silent awe and wonder. Then Ezra spoke in a voice dry with +fear. "What was it?" + +Dahvid stood speechless, and Samuel answered reverently, "Angels." + +"Brothers," he continued, "a wonderful thing has happened to us. It +has been a long, long day since angels have spoken to men." + +Then he girded his shepherd's cloak about him and seized his staff. +"Come, Ezra, Joel, Dahvid, let us be going." + +"Going--where?" asked Ezra and Joel. + +"Why, to Bethlehem to see the Child. Did not the angel tell us the +sign? Let us go at once to find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes +and lying in a manger." + +"There be many mangers in Bethlehem," objected Ezra. + +"I know not how we shall find him," said Joel. "It is a vain search, I +fear," and he drew his cloak about him and reached for his staff, "but +I will go with you if you say." + +So they started, Samuel, Ezra, and Joel--but Dahvid stood still. + +"Come, Dahvid, make haste!" called Samuel. + +But the boy did not move. + +"I cannot go," he said. + +"Cannot go!" cried Samuel in amazement; and Ezra added, "Who said but +a little while ago that he would go to the end of the earth to see the +King?" + +"And so I would," cried Dahvid; "but the sheep--we cannot leave the +sheep alone." + +"The sheep will be safe enough," said Samuel. "The dogs will keep them +together. There are no wolves tonight. Come, Dahvid." + +But the boy was firm. "There is my master; he'll be angry if I leave +his flocks alone." + +"Old Abraham will never know," said Joel. + +"Abraham is a hard master," said Dahvid. "Many a time I have felt his +heavy staff on my back. But it is not that which keeps me. I have +given him my word that, come day, come night, come life, come death, I +will not fail to keep the flocks. Go on without me; I must keep my +word. Go on." + +So they went on, impatient and eager for this wondrous quest, Ezra +and Joel muttering now and then at the obstinacy of the boy, but +Samuel full of glowing admiration. Dahvid watched them as they moved +up the hill. That dream of finding the Christ-child--how could he give +it up? Once he started forward: "I will go!" But something held him +back, and he threw himself on the ground and kept back tears of bitter +disappointment. After a time he grew calmer, and found a certain +comfort in thinking of the helplessness of his flock. + +Suddenly the low growling of his dog brought him to his feet. But he +saw nothing, heard nothing, and bade the dog be still. In a moment, +with a bark of alarm, the dog was up again and away. Dahvid sprang up, +certain now that danger was near. There was panic in the flock. Toward +the wilderness he could see lean, gray forms, moving stealthily and +swiftly among the sheep. Wolves! Springing upon a rock, and waving his +cloak in circles about his head, he uttered the familiar call which +gathered the sheep about him, his own sheep nearest, and behind them +the flocks of Samuel, Ezra, and Joel. The wolves made off and Dahvid +quickly looked over his flock to see if all were there--for the +Eastern shepherd knows his sheep by name. + +One by one he named them, with an increasing feeling of relief. They +were all there. No! One was missing--Ke-barbara, the pet of the flock. +Ke-barbara means striped, and the little sheep was so called because +of the dark marking of her fleece. After waving his staff over the +huddled beasts, and uttering a few times the soothing cry, "Hoo-o-o, +ta-a-a! hoo-o-o, ta-a-a!" he rushed off in the direction which the +wolves had taken. At the top of the steep bank, at the edge of the +pasture, he stopped and called, "Ke-barbara! Ke-barbara!" and for +answer heard an anguished bleat from the rocks below. + +It was a steep and slippery way, but Dahvid plunged down with no +thought of anything but the sheep. Loose stones gave way and he lost +his footing. At the bottom he picked himself up unhurt, and there +beside him were two wolves quarreling over the wounded sheep. One of +them slunk away at sight of the boy, but the other had a taste of +blood and sprang at Dahvid, missing his throat but sinking his teeth +into his leg. Then Dahvid, as the beast turned to spring again, struck +him a heavy blow on the head with his staff and killed him. His own +wounds were bleeding and painful, but he turned at once with caressing +words to the sheep. + +"Ke-barbara, they have hurt you, little sheep! But they have not +killed you! I reached you just in time. You cannot walk; can you? And +I am afraid I cannot carry you. But I can help. There, put your head +on my arm." He groaned with pain. "No, the other one." So he talked to +her, as to a child, as the wounded boy and the wounded sheep slowly +made their way up the steep hillside and over the rough rocks. It was +not a long way, and, half an hour before, the sturdy shepherd lad +would have bounded over it quickly enough. But now the wounded leg was +slow, the wounded arm was weak, and the wounded lamb seemed very +heavy. It was a weary journey, with many stops. When at last they +reached the flock, still huddled trembling together, Dahvid had only +strength to give one reassuring "Hoo-o-o, ta-a-a," then fell +exhausted. + +How long he lay there he did not know, but the dawn was growing +bright when three men appeared from the direction of the town. It was +not the shepherds, but old Abraham and two of his servants. As the old +man caught sight of his flock, but he saw no shepherd, he raged with +anger. "Dahvid!" he shouted fiercely. "Dahvid!" There was no answer. + +"The young vagabond! He has left the sheep. Of great worth are his +promises! He would keep my flock. 'Come life--come death!' Dahvid! Let +me once find him and I will give him something he will remember longer +than he does his vows." + +As he drew near the flock he discovered the boy lying on the ground. +"Ah, asleep is he? and the sun this high! Come, get up!" he shouted +fiercely, and lifted his staff to strike. But, as he did so he caught +sight of the white face and the bleeding arm, and noticed the wounded +sheep. Old Abraham dropped his angry arm, and there was a touch of +tenderness that was strange to him, as he continued: "Ah, Dahvid, boy! +You did not forget your promises; did you, Dahvid? And I would have +struck you! Forgive me, my lad." Then, turning to his servants, he +gave them command: "Take him to the inn and bid them care for him. I, +myself, will keep the flock today." + +The servants bowed low, "The inn is full, my lord." + +Old Abraham commanded again positively, "Take him to the inn, I say." + +"But the inn is full, my lord," replied the older servant, trembling. + +Then the other servant spoke, "There is perhaps room in the stable, my +lord." + +"Then bear him thither, and bid them give him the best of care. Go at +once." + +So the servants bore Dahvid away, still unconscious from his wounds +and made him comfortable on a bed of straw in the stable of the inn. + +It was some hours before he came to himself. When at last he opened +his eyes, and his ears began to catch once more the sounds about him, +the first thing he heard was a faint cry. + +"What is that?" he asked eagerly of Samuel, who was watching beside +him. + +"That," said the old shepherd, in tones of mingled joy and reverence, +"is the Child the angels told us about, the Child we came to see. We +found him here in the stable, in a manger." + +"And I am not to see him?" + +"Yes, you are," said Samuel, and a grave-faced man brought the Child +and laid Him in Dahvid's arms, the Child for whose coming the people +had been longing for a thousand years. + + * * * * * + +The color at length came back to Dahvid's white cheeks and strength +and health to his limbs and he went back again to the plain. Old +Abraham embraced him, "Forgive me, my son. I have been a hard master. +Thou hast been very faithful, and for thy reward I make thee lord over +all my flocks and half of them shall be thine own." + +So Dahvid became a man of flocks, and all his days he was known among +the other shepherds as the one who had held the Christ-child in his +arms. And there was none among them who was thought so brave, and +gentle, and wise as the _Shepherd Who Didn't Go_. + +[*] Reprinted by permission from "The City that Never Was Reached," by +Jay T. Stocking; published by the Pilgrim Press. + + + + +PAULINA'S CHRISTMAS[*] + +A Story of Russian Life. Adapted from Anna Robinson's + +_Little Paulina_ + + +One day, in Russia, there was a heavy snowstorm. The snow was deep on +the ground; and in the forest the branches of the trees bent under its +weight. + +In this forest a little girl was struggling along. There was no path +for her to follow, for the snow covered all the paths. The little +girl's name was Paulina. She was dressed in a long fur coat, and she +wore a cap and mittens and gaiters of fur, so that she looked more +like a little furry animal than a little girl. She kept tramping +along, not a bit afraid, when suddenly she heard a call for help. + +"Help! Help!" the call came. + +"Coming, coming!" she called back. She went in the direction of the +voice and soon she saw a man making his way toward her. His dress was +that of a peasant. + +"Will you please direct me out of this forest, little one?" he asked. +"You probably know the paths about." + +"No, I am a stranger here," Paulina answered. "I live in Kief--that +is, I did live there; but I am on my way to my father." + +"Where is your father?" asked the man. + +"He is in Siberia. They banished him." + +"But, little one," said the stranger, "that is a terrible place for a +child to go to. That frozen country, where wicked people are sent!" + +"O, yes,--but my father is there, you know," said Paulina. + +"Who is your father?" the man asked. + +The little girl was about to tell him, when she noticed a look of +interest on the stranger's face, so she said, + +"Did you say that you had lost your way in the forest? Do you live far +from here?" + +"Yes, very far. I am lost, and am nearly perishing from hunger and +cold. How far is it to the next village?" + +"They told me it was some miles on," said the child. "But I will take +you back to the woodsman's cottage where I spent the night. The woman +is a kind-hearted person, and I am sure she will give you shelter." + +"That is kind of you, little one," said the stranger, "but you will be +hindering your own journey if you do that." + +"I know that my father would want me to show a kindness, even though +it did put me back some," Paulina said. + +"You must have a good father, to give you such training. Why did the +Emperor send him into exile?" the stranger asked her. + +"O, my father had enemies who lied to the Emperor--and there was no +chance given to my father to explain. So the Emperor sent him away to +Siberia,--and I am trying to find my way there to him." + +While they walked through the forest, the stranger told Paulina about +his own little daughter who was expecting him to spend Christmas with +her. At last they reached the woodsman's hut. The woman greeted them +kindly, and while Paulina went into another room to help her prepare +the evening meal, the stranger was left warming himself by the fire, +and rocking the cradle. + +Once Paulina thought she heard voices, as if the stranger were talking +to someone; but when she went back, she found him alone, still warming +his hands and rocking the cradle with his foot. + +That night the stranger slept on the floor in front of the fire--there +was no other place for him; but he was glad to be safe from the storm +outside. + +Early in the morning, the two started out through the forest again. +They must hurry, if they were to reach the next village before +darkness fell. The storm had passed over, and the day was cold and +clear. A beautiful winter's day. The little girl and the stranger +reached the village on the other side of the forest early in the +afternoon, and there before them they saw a beautiful sleigh drawn by +four horses. There were four servants standing near. + +"What a lovely sleigh!" exclaimed Paulina. + +"Yes, I wonder where they are going. I will ask them," the stranger +said. He went nearer the men and spoke to them. + +"We are driving for our master to Igorhof," they said. + +"Why, that is where my daughter is. If I might only ride with you, I +could spend Christmas with her. Tomorrow is Christmas day, you know. +And, little one, you could spend Christmas with us, too." + +"O, no," said Paulina. "I could not take the time. I must hurry on to +my father. But it would be lovely if we could only ride in this +beautiful sleigh." + +"You could spend the night with us, and then we could set you on your +way, because you have been so kind to me," the man told her. + +The servants were willing to let them ride in the beautiful sleigh, +and soon they were speeding over the snow toward the great city. Once, +the stranger took a scarf from a pocket on the side of the sleigh and +threw it about his neck. Paulina frowned, and promptly placed it back +in the pocket. + +"It isn't right for you to touch anything in the sleigh. It belongs to +someone else. I am beginning to fear that you may not be an honest +man," she said gravely. + +The stranger laughed at her, but he did not take the scarf again. They +sped on over the snow until, as darkness fell, they reached the city. +Soon they entered a large courtyard, and the stranger took Paulina's +hand and led her into a narrow passageway, and up a small winding +stairway. + +"Where are you taking me?" asked Paulina. "I feel almost sure now, +that you are not an honest man. I think that you may even be a thief!" + +The man laughed again. + +"No, I am an honest man. You will believe me when you see my little +daughter. I trusted you in the forest. Now you trust me." + +He led her into a large room, and they sat down upon a sofa. + +"We will wait here until my daughter comes," he said. + +Soon the door opened, and a beautiful little girl, about as large as +Paulina, came toward them. She looked puzzled when she saw the +rough-looking man with the little girl. She went close to the stranger +and looked into his face. + +"It _is_ my father!" she cried, and threw her arms around his neck. + +"But why are you dressed like a peasant? Has there been an accident? +And who is this little stranger?" + +The man took her on his lap and told her how his sleigh had been +overturned in the storm, and how he had found his way to a peasant's +hut, where they had given him dry clothes to put on, and how he had +started out alone to find his way through the forest; and how he was +nearly perishing with cold and hunger when this little girl had +rescued him, and how, if it had not been for her, he would have died +in the snow in the forest. He told her how little Paulina was on her +way to Siberia to find her father, and how they went to the woodsman's +hut where a servant had found him, and how he had planned for the +sleigh to meet them on the other side of the forest. + +"O," Paulina interrupted him, "then there was somebody talking with +you when we were preparing the evening meal?" + +"Yes, and everything came out just as I had planned. And do you know, +little daughter, this Paulina would not let me put my own scarf around +my neck. She thought that I was a thief. She is an honest little girl. +But she will not tell me her name. She does not trust me." + +"But why should I trust you, when you will not tell me who you are, or +anything about yourself?" Paulina asked. + +"Do trust my father, Paulina. I'm sure he can help you. He will tell +you who he is soon, I know," the beautiful little girl said. + +"Yes, little one," the stranger said. "I know someone who could speak +to the Emperor about your father, and perhaps he could be pardoned. +Please tell me your name; and then before you go away I will answer +any questions about myself you may ask me." + +"Do tell my father, Paulina," the little girl urged. + +Paulina threw her arms about the stranger's knees. + +"O, if you could only get the Emperor to pardon him.--But I do not ask +for a _pardon_--he has done nothing to be pardoned for. All that I ask +is that he may have justice done him. My father is Vladimir Betzkoi." + +The stranger frowned, and then he whispered, + +"There must be some mistake. He must be a good man to have such an +honest little daughter." Then he said to Paulina, + +"Do you believe now that I am an honest man, since you have seen my +daughter?" + +"O, yes, indeed I do. You couldn't help being good and honest. She is +so beautiful. I think her face is like what a queen's should be," +Paulina answered eagerly. + +The stranger and his little daughter smiled, and the man said, + +"Well, I believe that your father is an honest man since I have seen +you. And I can tell you now, I _know_ he will be pardoned." + +"Tell her, father, tell the little Paulina who you are," his daughter +whispered. + +"Until your father returns to you, little one, you must stay here and +I will be a father to you--as I am father to all the people of Russia, +for _I am the Emperor!_" + +Just then the bells began ringing, and voices outside began +singing,--for it was the beginning of Christmas morning. And Paulina +said, + +"This is the happiest Christmas morning I have ever known." + +[*] By permission--Copyright, 1912, by Sturgis & Walton Company. + + + + +UNTO US A CHILD IS BORN + +As Told by Phebe A. Curtiss at a "White Gift" Service + + +It was in the little town of Bethlehem, with its white walls and +narrow streets, that a wonderful thing happened many, many years ago. +The whole aspect of the place had been completely transformed, and +instead of the quiet which usually existed there, confusion reigned. +The little town was crowded full of people. All day long men, women +and children had been pouring in companies into it until every +available place was full. It had something to do with the payment of +taxes, and the people had come from far and near in response to the +call of those in authority. + +Many of them were staying with relatives and friends, and every door +had been opened to receive those who came. There were not many places +where the public could go to stay in those days, and the ones that +there were had been already filled. + +Just as the shadows were closing down around the hill, an interesting +little group found its way up the winding path through the orchards, +touched as they were by the sunset coloring, and into the gate of the +city. The man, seemingly about fifty years of age, walked with slow +and measured tread. He had a black beard, lightly sprinkled with gray, +and he carried in his hand a staff, which served him in walking and +also in persuading the donkey he was leading to move a little more +rapidly. + +It was plain to see that the errand he had come on was an important +one, both from the care with which he was dressed and from the anxious +look which now and then spread over his face. + +Upon the donkey's back sat a woman, and your attention would have been +directed to her at once if you could have been there. She was +marvelously beautiful. She was very young--just at that interesting +period between girlhood and womanhood, when the charm is so great. + +Her eyes were large and blue and they were a prominent feature in the +face that was absolutely perfect in contour and coloring. + +She wore an outer robe of a dull woolen stuff which covered the blue +garment worn underneath--the garment which indicated that she was a +virgin. Over her head and around her neck she wore the customary white +veil or "wimple." + +As the donkey jogged along, stopping now and then to nibble at the +bushes on either side, she sat calmly looking out upon the +surroundings. Once in a while she would draw aside her veil and her +beautiful eyes would lift themselves to heaven with a look of rapture +and adoration in them, which was wonderful to see. + +As they drew nearer to the town the look of anxiety upon the face of +the man deepened, for he began to realize more and more the crowded +condition of the place they were approaching. The hurry and bustle and +confusion made themselves felt far beyond the bounds of the town +itself. + +They seemed to be strangers--at least they did not have relatives or +friends to whom they could turn; and the man started at once to make +his way to the inn or "kahn," as it was called in those days. + +This inn was a quadrangular building made of rough stones. It was one +story high, with a flat roof, and it had not a single window. All +around it was a high wall, built of rocks; and the space between that +wall and the building made a safe enclosure for the animals. + +The thing about these inns that would surprise you or me today was the +way in which the business connected with them was run. There was no +charge made for staying there, but safe lodging was freely given. Each +company which came brought its own bedding, its own food and +everything they needed to use in cooking. A resting place and safe +protection were all that were offered. The inn was in charge of one +caretaker. There were no other servants. + +As the traveler, whose name was Joseph, drew near he found to his +dismay that he could not even make his way through the crowd to the +gate keeper, who was guarding the one entrance to the inn. + +He decided to leave Mary, his wife, in the company of a family with +whom he had been talking while he made an effort to gain entrance. + +When at last he reached the man in charge, he found it was just as he +had feared. The inn was full--there was no room for them there. + +In vain he urged; he told of his own line of ancestors; of the noble +line from which his wife descended. The answer was always the same: +"There is no room." + +At last he pleaded for Mary, his wife. He told the man in charge that +she was not strong, that she had come a long, long way and was very +tired; and urged that some place be found for her. He feared the +results if she should be compelled to stay in the open all night. + +So earnestly he pleaded his case that at last the man said, "I have no +room and yet I cannot turn you away; come with me and I will find you +a place in the stable." + +Joseph then found Mary and they and the ones with whom she had been +tarrying went together to the stable and there made themselves +comfortable for the night. + +This was not at all the cross to them that it would seem to you today. +It was a very common thing indeed for people to stay in the stables +when the inn was full. And then, too, you must remember that they were +descended from a long line of shepherds. They naturally loved the +animals and did not feel at all badly to sleep where they had been, or +even in very close company with them. + +We can imagine that it was with very thankful hearts they lay down to +rest that night. + +There was a company of men, asleep in the pasture lands at some little +distance from Bethlehem, on the slope of the hill. They were +shepherds. They had cared for their sheep and after that all but one +of them had lain down to sleep. It was their custom for all of the +number to watch while the others slept. They were wrapped in their +great, warm shepherd's cloaks, for the air was chilly at that season. +All at once a strange thing happened. It began to grow very light, and +the one who was watching could not understand. He spoke to the others +and they sprang to their feet. + +Brighter and brighter shone the light until it was like the day, and +you can imagine that the shepherds were startled. They could not +speak, so great was their astonishment; but as they drew closer +together they heard a voice coming out of the light. The voice said, +"Be not afraid. Behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which +shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day, in the city of +David, a Saviour which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign +unto you; ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes lying in +a manger." + +And then there were with this angel, who spoke, many other angels; and +they sang, praising God, saying, "Glory to God in the highest, and on +earth peace, good will toward men." + +They sang it again and again until the heavens fairly rang with it. + +For a while after the beautiful song had died away and the light had +failed, the shepherds stood with bowed heads. Then each one gathered +his cloak around him and took his staff in his hand and they started +together to find the place and the Child about which they had heard. + +Hastening into Bethlehem they came to the inn and found Joseph and +Mary, and the babe, lying in the manger, just as the angel said they +would. They worshipped the Child and returned to their duties, +praising God and glorifying Him. + +After that Joseph and Mary went away to another place and took the +child Jesus with them, and many others came to worship Him. Among them +were three Wise Men who had come from separate places and all from a +great distance. + +They followed the star which was set in the heavens to guide them and +they too found the One they sought. + +As they came into the place where He was, each one bowed in worship +and they laid before Him the gifts they had brought--gold, +frankincense and myrrh. + +What a wonderful story it is, and how our hearts swell with love as we +think about it! It is fitting that tonight we should dwell upon it, +for we, too, have come to worship our King. It is His birthday and we +have come together to bring Him our gifts. We have brought "white +gifts" because they are the expression of our pure, unselfish love. + +The Wise Men brought gold, and we have brought our gifts of +_substance_--money and food and clothing and things that will help to +make others comfortable and happy. + +The Wise Men brought frankincense, and we bring gifts of _service_; +for each one of us desires to do some one thing all during the year +that will make for good and make us worthy followers of Him. + +The Wise Men brought myrrh, and we bring devotion; for we bring the +gift of _self_. If we have not already given ourselves to the Master, +we want to do so now; and if we have done so, we want to reconsecrate +our lives to Him. + + + + +THE STAR[*] + +By Florence M. Kingsley + + +Once upon a time in a country far away from here, there lived a little +girl named Ruth. Ruth's home was not at all like our houses, for she +lived in a little tower on top of the great stone wall that surrounded +the town of Bethlehem. Ruth's father was the hotel-keeper--the Bible +says the "inn keeper." This inn was not at all like our hotels, +either. There was a great open yard, which was called the courtyard. +All about this yard were little rooms and each traveler who came to +the hotel rented one. The inn stood near the great stone wall of the +city, so that as Ruth stood, one night, looking out of the tower +window, she looked directly into the courtyard. It was truly a strange +sight that met her eyes. So many people were coming to the inn, for +the King had made a law that every man should come back to the city +where his father used to live to be counted and to pay his taxes. Some +of the people came on the backs of camels, with great rolls of bedding +and their dishes for cooking upon the back of the beast. Some of them +came on little donkeys, and on their backs too were the bedding and +the dishes. Some of the people came walking--slowly; they were so +tired. Many miles some of them had come. As Ruth looked down into the +courtyard, she saw the camels being led to their places by their +masters, she heard the snap of the whips, she saw the sparks shoot up +from the fires that were kindled in the courtyard, where each person +was preparing his own supper; she heard the cries of the tired, hungry +little children. + +Presently her mother, who was cooking supper, came over to the window +and said, "Ruthie, thou shalt hide in the house until all those people +are gone. Dost thou understand?" + +"Yes, my mother," said the child, and she left the window to follow +her mother back to the stove, limping painfully, for little Ruth was a +cripple. Her mother stooped suddenly and caught the child in her arms. + +"My poor little lamb. It was a mule's kick, just six years ago, that +hurt your poor back and made you lame." + +"Never mind, my mother. My back does not ache today, and lately when +the light of the strange new star has shone down upon my bed my back +has felt so much stronger and I have felt so happy, as though I could +climb upon the rays of the star and up, up into the sky and above the +stars!" + +Her mother shook her head sadly. "Thou art not likely to climb much, +now or ever, but come, the supper is ready; let us go to find your +father. I wonder what keeps him." + +They found the father standing at the gate of the courtyard, talking +to a man and woman who had just arrived. The man was tall, with a long +beard, and he led by a rope a snow white mule, on which sat the +drooping figure of the woman. As Ruth and her mother came near, they +heard the father say, "But I tell thee that there is no more room in +the inn. Hast thou no friends where thou canst go to spend the night?" +The man shook his head. "No, none," he answered. "I care not for +myself, but my poor wife." Little Ruth pulled at her mother's dress. +"Mother, the oxen sleep out under the stars these warm nights and the +straw in the caves is clean and warm; I have made a bed there for my +little lamb." + +Ruth's mother bowed before the tall man. "Thou didst hear the child. +It is as she says--the straw is clean and warm." The tall man bowed +his head. "We shall be very glad to stay," and he helped the +sweet-faced woman down from the donkey's back and led her away to the +cave stable, while the little Ruth and her mother hurried up the +stairs that they might send a bowl of porridge to the sweet-faced +woman, and a sup of new milk, as well. + + * * * * * + +That night when little Ruth lay down in her bed, the rays of the +beautiful new star shone through the window more brightly than before. +They seemed to soothe the tired aching shoulders. She fell asleep and +dreamed that the beautiful, bright star burst and out of it came +countless angels, who sang in the night: + +"Glory to God in the highest, peace on earth, good will to men." And +then it was morning and her mother was bending over her and saying, +"Awake, awake, little Ruth. Mother has something to tell thee." Then +as the eyes opened slowly--"The angels came in the night, little one, +and left a Baby to lay beside your little white lamb in the manger." + + * * * * * + +That afternoon, Ruth went with her mother to the fountain. The mother +turned aside to talk to the other women of the town about the strange +things heard and seen the night before, but Ruth went on and sat down +by the edge of the fountain. The child, was not frightened, for +strangers came often to the well, but never had she seen men who +looked like the three who now came towards her. The first one, a tall +man with a long white beard, came close to Ruth and said, "Canst tell +us, child, where is born he that is called the King of the Jews?" + +"I know of no king," she answered, "but last night while the star was +shining, the angels brought a baby to lie beside my white lamb in the +manger." The stranger bowed his head. "That must be he. Wilt thou show +us the way to Him, my child?" So Ruth ran and her mother led the three +men to the cave and "when they saw the Child, they rejoiced with +exceeding great joy, and opening their gifts, they presented unto Him +gold, and frankincense and myrrh," with wonderful jewels, so that +Ruth's mother's eyes shone with wonder, but little Ruth saw only the +Baby, which lay asleep on its mother's breast. + +"If only I might hold Him in my arms," she thought, but was afraid to +ask. + + * * * * * + +After a few days, the strangers left Bethlehem, all but the three--the +man, whose name was Joseph, and Mary, his wife, and the Baby. Then, as +of old, little Ruth played about the courtyard and the white lamb +frolicked at her side. Often she dropped to her knees to press the +little woolly white head against her breast, while she murmured: "My +little lamb, my very, very own. I love you, lambie," and then together +they would steal over to the entrance of the cave to peep in at the +Baby, and always she thought, "If I only might touch his hand," but +was afraid to ask. One night as she lay in her bed, she thought to +herself: "Oh, I wish I had a beautiful gift for him, such as the wise +men brought, but I have nothing at all to offer and I love him so +much." Just then the light of the star, which was nightly fading, fell +across the foot of the bed and shone full upon the white lamb which +lay asleep at her feet--and then she thought of something. The next +morning she arose with her face shining with joy. She dressed +carefully and with the white lamb held close to her breast, went +slowly and painfully down the stairway and over to the door of the +cave. "I have come," she said, "to worship Him, and I have brought +Him--my white lamb." The mother smiled at the lame child, then she +lifted the Baby from her breast and placed Him in the arms of the +little maid who knelt at her feet. + + * * * * * + +A few days after, an angel came to the father, Joseph, and told him to +take the Baby and hurry to the land of Egypt, for the wicked King +wanted to do it harm, and so these three--the father, mother and +Baby--went by night to the far country of Egypt. And the star grew +dimmer and dimmer and passed away forever from the skies over +Bethlehem, but little Ruth grew straight and strong and beautiful as +the almond trees in the orchard, and all the people who saw her were +amazed, for Ruth was once a cripple. + +"It was the light of the strange star," her mother said, but little +Ruth knew it was the touch of the blessed Christ-Child, who was once +folded against her heart. + +[*] Used by permission of the author and the publishers, Henry Altemus +Company. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Christmas Stories And Legends, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHRISTMAS STORIES AND LEGENDS *** + +***** This file should be named 17770-8.txt or 17770-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/7/7/17770/ + +Produced by Stacy Brown Thellend, Barbara Tozier, Bill +Tozier 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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Curtiss. + </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; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + a{text-decoration: none;} + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + .sidenote {width: 20%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em; margin-left: 1em; + float: right; clear: right; margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; border: dashed 1px;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .tab1 {text-align: right; vertical-align: top;} + .tab2 {text-align: left;} + .t3 {text-align: right; vertical-align: bottom;} + + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; margin-top: 1.5em; font-size: 0.9em;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: super; text-decoration: none;} + + .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.i8 {display: block; margin-left: 8em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Christmas Stories And Legends, by Various + +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 Stories And Legends + +Author: Various + +Release Date: February 16, 2006 [EBook #17770] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHRISTMAS STORIES AND LEGENDS *** + + + + +Produced by Stacy Brown Thellend, Barbara Tozier, Bill +Tozier and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<h1> +CHRISTMAS STORIES<br /> +AND LEGENDS +</h1> + +<p class="center" style="margin-top: 2em;"><b>COMPILED BY</b></p> +<h2>PHEBE A. CURTISS</h2> + +<p class="center"><b>Author of "White Gifts +for the King"</b></p> + +<h3 style="margin-top: 3em;">MEIGS PUBLISHING CO.<br /> +INDIANAPOLIS, IND.</h3> + + +<p class="center" style="font-size: .9em;"><b><span class="smcap">Copyright</span> 1916<br /> +<span class="smcap">BY</span><br /> +MEIGS PUBLISHING CO.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Indianapolis, Indiana</span><br /></b> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>FOREWORD</h3> + + +<p>No greater teaching force has ever been discovered than the story and +no one has ever lived who used that force so skillfully as did our +Great Teacher.</p> + +<p>It is not strange, then, that among all the stories that have ever +been written or told none are so dear to us as the stories and legends +which center in His birth.</p> + +<p>Young and old alike delight in them and never tire of hearing them.</p> + +<p>Unusual care has been taken in compiling this little volume and each +story has its own sweet lesson. Each one is from the pen of one who +has imbibed the real spirit of Christmas. They were chosen as being +particularly well adapted to use in connection with the Christmas +Service "White Gifts for the King," but they will prove attractive and +helpful at any time during the year.</p> + +<p>It is our earnest wish that this little book may find its way into +many homes and schools and Sunday Schools and that its contents may +help to give a deeper appreciation of the true Christmas spirit.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>CONTENTS</h3> + + +<table class="center" cellpadding="4" summary="contents"><tbody> +<tr> +<td class="tab1">I.</td> <td class="tab2">The Legend of the "White Gifts"—Phebe A. Curtiss</td> + <td class="t3" style="width: 14%;"><a href="#Page_9">9</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tab1">II. </td> <td class="tab2">Her Birthday Dream—Nellie C. King </td> <td class="t3"> <a href="#Page_13">13</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tab1">III. </td> <td class="tab2">The Fir Tree—Hans Andersen—adapted by J. H. Stickney </td> <td class="t3"> <a href="#Page_25">25</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tab1">IV. </td> <td class="tab2">The Little Match Girl—Hans Andersen </td> <td class="t3"> <a href="#Page_37">37</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tab1">V. </td> <td class="tab2">Little Piccola—Nora A. Smith </td> <td class="t3"> <a href="#Page_41">41</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tab1">VI. </td> <td class="tab2">The Shepherd's Story—Dr. Washington </td> <td class="t3"> <a href="#Page_47">47</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tab1">VII. </td> <td class="tab2">The Story of Christmas—Nora A. Smith </td> <td class="t3"> <a href="#Page_63">63</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tab1">VIII. </td> <td class="tab2">The Legend of the Christmas Tree—Lucy Wheelock </td> <td class="t3"> <a href="#Page_69">69</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tab1">IX. </td> <td class="tab2">Little Jean—French of Francois Coppe. Translated by Nannie Lee Frayser </td> <td class="t3"> <a href="#Page_71">71</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tab1">X. </td> <td class="tab2">How the Fir Tree Became the Christmas Tree—Aunt Hede in Kindergarten Magazine </td> <td class="t3"> <a href="#Page_77">77</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tab1">XI. </td> <td class="tab2">The Magi in the West and Their Search for the Christ—Frederick E. Dewhurst </td> <td class="t3"> <a href="#Page_79">79</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tab1">XII. </td> <td class="tab2">Little Gretchen and the Wooden Shoe—Elizabeth Harrison </td> <td class="t3"> <a href="#Page_93">93</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tab1">XIII. </td> <td class="tab2">The Little Shepherd—Maud Lindsay </td> <td class="t3"> <a href="#Page_105">105</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tab1">IV. </td> <td class="tab2">Babouscka—Carolyn S. Bailey </td> <td class="t3"> <a href="#Page_109">109</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tab1">XV. </td> <td class="tab2">The Boy with the Box—May Griggs Van Voorhis </td> <td class="t3"> <a href="#Page_113">113</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tab1">XVI. </td> <td class="tab2">The Worker in Sandal wood—Marjorie L. C. Pickthall </td> <td class="t3"> <a href="#Page_125">125</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tab1">XVII. </td> <td class="tab2">The Shepherd Who Didn't Go—Jay T. Stocking </td> <td class="t3"> <a href="#Page_135">135</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tab1">XVIII. </td> <td class="tab2">Paulina's Christmas—Adapted from Anna Robinson's "Little Paulina" </td> <td class="t3"> <a href="#Page_145">145</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tab1">XIX. </td> <td class="tab2">Unto Us a Child Is Born—Phebe A. Curtiss </td> <td class="t3"> <a href="#Page_153">153</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tab1">XX.</td> <td class="tab2"> The Star—Florence M. Kingsley </td> <td class="t3"> <a href="#Page_159">159</a></td> +</tr> +</tbody> +</table> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span></p> +<h3>THE LEGEND OF THE "WHITE GIFTS"</h3> + +<h4><span class="smcap">As Told by Phebe A. Curtiss</span></h4> + + +<p>A great many years ago in a land far away from us there was a certain +king who was dearly beloved by all of his people. Men admired him +because he was strong and just. In all of his dealings they knew they +could depend upon him. Every matter that came to his consideration was +carefully weighed in his mind and his decisions were always wise. +Women trusted him because he was pure and true, with lofty thoughts +and high ambitions, and the children loved him because of his +gentleness and tenderness toward them. He was never so burdened with +affairs of state that he could not stop to speak a pleasant word of +greeting to the tiniest child, and the very poorest of his subjects +knew they could count upon his interest in them.</p> + +<p>This deep-seated love and reverence for their king made the people of +this country wish very much for a way in which to give expression to +it so that he would understand it. Many consultations were held and +one after another the plans suggested were rejected, but at last a +most happy solution was found. It was rapidly circulated here and +there and it met with the most hearty approval everywhere.</p> + +<p>It was a plan for celebrating the King's birthday.</p> + +<p>Of course, that had been done in many lands before, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span>but there were +certain features about this celebration which differed materially from +anything that had ever been tried. They decided that on the King's +birthday the people should all bring him gifts, but they wanted in +some way to let him know that these gifts were the expression of a +love on the part of the giver which was pure and true and unselfish, +and in order to show that, it was decided that each gift should be a +"White Gift."</p> + +<p>The King heard about this beautiful plan, and it touched his heart in +a wonderful way. He decided that he would do his part to carry out the +idea and let his loving subjects know how much he appreciated their +thoughtfulness.</p> + +<p>You can just imagine the excitement there was all over the land as the +King's birthday drew near. All sorts of loving sacrifices had been +made and everyone was anxious to make his gift the very best he had to +offer. At last the day dawned, and eagerly the people came dressed in +white and carrying their white gifts. To their surprise they were +ushered into a great, big room—the largest one in the palace. They +stood in silence when they first entered it, for it was beautiful +beyond all expression. It was a <i>white</i> room;—the floor was white +marble; the ceiling looked like a mass of soft, white fluffy clouds; +the walls were hung with beautiful white silken draperies, and all the +furnishings were white. In one end of the room stood a stately white +throne, and seated upon it was their beloved ruler and he was clad in +shining white robes, and his attendants—all dressed in white—were +grouped around him.</p> + +<p>Then came the presentation of the gifts. What a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span>wealth of them there +was—and how different they were in value. In those days it was just +as it is now—there were many people who had great wealth, and they +brought gifts which were generous in proportion to their wealth.</p> + +<p>One brought a handful of pearls, another a number of carved ivories. +There were beautiful laces and silks and embroideries, all in pure +white, and even splendid white chargers were brought to his majesty.</p> + +<p>But many of the people were poor—some of them very poor—and their +gifts were quite different from those I have been telling about. Some +of the women brought handfuls of white rice, some of the boys brought +their favorite white pigeons, and one dear little girl smilingly gave +him a pure white rose.</p> + +<p>It was wonderful to watch the King as each one came and kneeled before +him as he presented his gift. He never seemed to notice whether the +gift was great or small; he regarded not one gift above another so +long as all were white. Never had the King been so happy as he was +that day and never had such real joy filled the hearts of the people. +They decided to use the same plan every year, and so it came to pass +that year after year on the King's birthday the people came from here +and there and everywhere and brought their white gifts—the gifts +which showed that their love was pure, strong, true and without stain, +and year after year the King sat in his white robes on the white +throne in the great white room and it was always the same—he regarded +not one gift above another so long as all were <i>white</i>.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span></p> +<h3>HER BIRTHDAY DREAM<a name="FNanchor_1" id="FNanchor_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1" class="fnanchor">*</a></h3> + +<h4><span class="smcap">By Nellie C. King</span></h4> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span>Marcia Brownlow came out of the church, and walked rapidly down the +street. She seemed perturbed; her gray eyes flashed, and on her cheeks +glowed two red spots. She was glad she was not going home, so she +wouldn't have to take a car, but could walk the short distance to Aunt +Sophy's, where she had been invited to dine and visit with her special +chum, Cousin Jack—who was home from college for the short +Thanksgiving vacation. She slowed up as she reached her destination, +and waited a little before going in—she wanted to get calmed down a +bit, for she didn't want her friend to see her when she felt so "riled +up." Back of it was a secret reluctance to meet Jack—he was so +different since the Gipsy Smith revival; of course, he was perfectly +lovely, and unchanged toward her, but—somehow, she felt uncomfortable +in his presence—and she didn't enjoy having her self-satisfaction +disturbed.</p> + +<p>As she entered the dining-room, she was greeted with exclamations of +surprise and pleasure.</p> + +<p>"Why, Marcia!" said Aunt Sophia; "we had given you up! I almost never +knew of your being late in keeping an appointment."</p> + +<p>"You must excuse me, Auntie; and lay this offense to the charge of our +Sunday school superintendent," answered Marcia.</p> + +<p>"I suppose Mr. Robinson is laying his plans for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> Christmas," remarked +Uncle John. "He believes in taking time by the forelock—and a very +commendable habit it is, too."</p> + +<p>"Yes," answered Marcia laconically.</p> + +<p>Jack glanced at her keenly. "Is there anything new in the Christmas +line?" he asked.</p> + +<p>The gray eyes grew black, and the red spots burned again, as Marcia +replied: "Well, I should think so—he proposes to turn things +topsy-turvy!"</p> + +<p>"My! What does he want to do?" inquired Cousin Augusta.</p> + +<p>"Oh, he calls it the 'White Gift Christmas'; but the long and short of +the matter is, that he proposes to 'turn down' Santa Claus, and all +the old time-honored customs connected with Christmas that are so dear +to the hearts of the children, and have the school do the giving. He +has a big banner hung up in the Sunday school room bearing the words, +'Gifts for the Christ-Child'."</p> + +<p>"An excellent idea," exclaimed Uncle John, "but I don't see much of an +innovation about that; you have always made the children's giving a +part of your Christmas celebration, have you not?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly!" rejoined Marcia. "They have always brought their little +gifts for the poor, and that is all right; but this time there are no +gifts to the Sunday school at all."</p> + +<p>"Not even to the Primary School?" asked Augusta.</p> + +<p>"Well," admitted Marcia, "Mr. Robinson gave the children their choice +today, whether they would have the old Christmas or the 'White Gift +Christmas,' and they all voted for the new idea."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span>"Why then should the children be obliged to have gifts, if they don't +want them?" laughed Augusta.</p> + +<p>"Oh, children are always taken with novelty, and Mr. Robinson told it +to them in such a way that fancy was captivated; but I don't think +they really understood what they were giving up."</p> + +<p>"Marcia, it seems to me that your are emphasizing the wrong side of +the subject if I understand it aright," said Jack.</p> + +<p>"Why, do you know about it?" asked Marcia, in surprise.</p> + +<p>"Not much," replied Jack; "but I read the White Gift story in the +'Sunday School Times,' and the report of the Painesville experiment."</p> + +<p>"Well, Jack, tell us what you know about this mysterious 'White +Gift'," commanded his father.</p> + +<p>"I would rather Marcia should tell it, father; I know so little."</p> + +<p>"Oh, go on, Jack," urged Marcia; "you can't possibly know less about +it than I do, for I confess I was so full of the disappointment of the +little ones that the other side of it didn't impress me very much."</p> + +<p>"Well, as I remember it," said Jack, "the gist of the plan is +this—that Christmas is Christ's birthday, and we should make our +gifts to him, instead of to one another; and the idea of the White +Gift was suggested by the story of the Persian king named Kublah Khan, +who was a wise and good ruler, and greatly beloved. On his birthday +his subjects kept what they called the 'White Feast.' This was +celebrated in an immense great white banqueting-hall, and each one of +his subjects brought to their <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span>king a white gift to express that the +love and loyalty of their hearts was without stain. The rich brought +white chargers, ivory and alabaster; the poor brought white pigeons, +or even a measure of rice; and the great king regarded all gifts +alike, so long as they were white. Have I told it right, cousin?" +queried Jack.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I think so. It is a beautiful thought, I must confess, and might +be all right in a large, rich Sunday school; but in a mission school +like ours I am sure it will be a failure. It will end in our losing +our scholars. I don't believe in taking up new ideas without +considering whether they are adapted to our needs or not. But please, +dear folkses, don't let us say anything more about it," pleaded +Marcia, and so the subject was dropped.</p> + +<p>That evening as Jack Thornton bade his cousin good-bye, he placed in +her hand a little package, saying: "I am so sorry, Marcia, that I +can't be here for your birthday, but here is my remembrance. Now don't +you dare open it before Tuesday, and, dear, you may be sure it is a +'white gift,' and may you have a 'white birthday'." And before she +could say a word, he had opened the door, and was gone.</p> + +<p>Touched by his thoughtful gift and his words, she said to herself: "A +'white birthday!' I always have perfectly beautiful birthdays." And so +she did; for she was always looking out for other people's birthdays, +and making much of them; and so she always got the gospel measure: +"Give, and it shall be given unto you; good measure, pressed down, and +shaken together, and running over, shall man give into your bosom."</p> + +<p>But these thoughts were crowded out by the pressure <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span>of things to be +done—father and mother had gone into the country to visit a sick +friend, and the younger brothers and sisters surrounded her and +clamored for songs and Bible stories, and as she was a good older +sister she devoted herself to them until their bedtime. Then, turning +out the lights, she sat down in an easy chair before the library +grate, and yielded herself to the spell of the quiet hour. The +strained, irritated nerves relaxed, and a strange, sweet peace stole +over her. As she gazed dreamily into the fire, a star seemed to rise +out of the glowing coals, and beam at her with a beautiful soft +radiance, and the words of the Evangel came into her mind: "And when +they saw the star, they rejoiced with exceeding joy; and when they +were come into the house they saw the young child, with Mary his +mother, and they fell down and worshipped him; and when they had +opened their treasures they presented unto him gifts, gold, +frankincense and myrrh." She repeated the words over and over to +herself. How simple and restful they were; how direct and genuine and +satisfying was this old-time giving! There it was—Gifts for the +Christ-Child—"They presented unto him gifts, gold, frankincense and +myrrh." She remembered reading somewhere that the gold represented our +earthly possessions, the frankincense typified our service and the +myrrh our suffering for his sake.</p> + +<p>As she gazed into the fire, and mused, she fell asleep, and all these +thoughts were woven into the fabric of a dream—and who shall say that +God does not speak to his children still in dreams?</p> + +<p>She dreamed that it was the morning of her birthday.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> She heard cheery +voices in the hall calling out to one another: "This is Marcia's +birthday. Wish you many returns of the day!" There was an excited +running to and fro between the different rooms, and gleeful +exclamations—but no one came near her! She sat up in bed listening, +and wondering what it could mean! Why, mother always came into her +room, and folded her to her heart, and said those precious things that +only a mother can say; and the children always scrambled to see who +should be the first to give sister a birthday kiss. Were they playing +some joke on her? She would be quiet and watch, and so not be taken +unawares.</p> + +<p>Presently they went trooping happily downstairs into the dining-room, +and she heard father's voice say: "Good morning, children; I wish you +many happy returns of Marcia's birthday."</p> + +<p>What did it all mean? Was she going crazy? Or were they just going to +surprise her by some novel way of celebrating her birthday? She arose, +and with trembling fingers dressed herself hastily, and stole softly +down the stairs, and looked into the dining-room. Hush!—father was +asking a blessing. He returned thanks for dear Marcia's birthday, and +asked that it should be a happy day for them all. Beside each plate +save her own, were various packages; and these were opened amid +ejaculations of surprise and pleasure, and sundry hugs and kisses.</p> + +<p>After the first burst of happiness had subsided, Marcia braced herself +and entered the dining-room, saying with forced gayety: "Good morning, +dear ones all." They looked up with blank, unanswering faces, and +said: "Good <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span>morning, Marcia"—that was all. But Marcia's heart leaped +at the recognition of her presence, for she had begun to fear that she +was dead, and that it was her spirit that was wandering about.</p> + +<p>She stooped and kissed her mother, who murmured abstractedly, "Yes, +dear," never once looking up from the presents she was examining. With +a sinking heart she turned away from her mother and went and stood +behind her father's chair, and leaning over whispered in his ear: +"Dear father, have you forgotten that this is my birthday?" He +answered kindly but absent-mindedly: "Why, daughter, am I likely to +forget it with all these tokens around me?"—and he waved his hand +toward the gifts piled around his plate. This was almost more than +Marcia could bear, for father was always specially tender and +attentive to her on her birthday. She always sat on his knee a while; +and he told her what a joy and comfort she was to him, and he always +paid her some pretty compliment that made her girlish heart swell with +innocent pride, for every girl knows that compliments from one's +father are a little sweeter than any others.</p> + +<p>In vain she hung around waiting for some clue to this mysterious, +unnatural conduct of the family. They were all absorbed in plans for +spending this birthday—Marcia's birthday, but no reference whatever +was made to what she liked; no one consulted her as to what she wanted +to do, or to have done. The boys were going skating in the forenoon; +the little girls were to invite four of their friends to help serve +the first dinner in the new doll's house, and in the afternoon father +would take them all for an automobile ride into the country to a dear +friend's—<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span>all but Marcia, who couldn't bear to get into an auto since +a terrible accident she had been in a few weeks ago. A troop of her +girl friends came in, and in a conventional way wished her "many happy +returns" of the day; and then proceeded to ignore her, and gave gifts +to other members of the family. "It is a wonder," thought Marcia, +bitterly, "that they didn't have a birthday party for Marcia with +Marcia left out."</p> + +<p>And so it went on all through that strange, miserable day; while they +were all busy celebrating her birthday, she herself was neglected and +ignored as she sat in the quiet house alone in the twilight—for she +had no heart to light the gas—just homesick for the personal love +which had characterized all her birthdays and all her home life +heretofore, there came a timid knock on the door, and as Marcia opened +it, there stood little crippled Joe, one of her scholars in the +Mission Sunday school. As he saw her, he gave a little exclamation of +surprise and delight, and said: "O Miss Marshay! I hearn last night +'twas yer berthday today, an' I wanted to guv yer suthin' white, like +Mr. Robinson he told us 'bout, don't yer know?—an' 'caus yer has +allers treated me so white—'n'—'n' I didn't hev nuthin', 'n so I +axed Him, ye know, what yer telled us 'bout in Sunday school—Jesus; +who died on the cross, and who's allers willin' to help a poor +feller—an' I axed Him to help me get suthin' real nice 'n' white fer +uer birthday; 'n I kep' me eyes peeled all day 'xpectin' it, 'n just +now a reel swell feller buyed a paper of me, 'n then he guv he this +here bunch uv white sweet smellin' posies, 'thout my sayin' a word. +Here they be, Miss Marshay fer yer. Giminy, teacher, ain't them purty? +An'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> O, teacher—He made 'm in the fust place 'n had the man guv them +to me, 'n so I reckon He 'n me's pardners in this here white gift +bizness." And he held up in his thin, grimy hand a bunch of white, +sweet-scented violets.</p> + +<p>Marcia's first impulse was to catch up the little fellow and his gift +in her arms, and baptize them with a flood of tears from her own +overcharged heart! But she hadn't taught boys in a Mission Sunday +school class for nothing—Joe would have thought she had gone crazy, +or been struck silly, or was sick unto death; so she controlled +herself, and kneeling beside him took the violets reverently in both +her hands, saying in a choked voice: "Joe, they are just beautiful! +This is the only really truly white gift I have had today, and I don't +deserve it—but I thank Him and you."</p> + +<p>The boy looked at her with shining face, drew his hand across his +eyes, and then answered brightly: "Oh, that's all right, Miss Marshay; +'tenny rate 'tis with me, 'n' I reckon 'tis with Him"—and seizing his +crutch, he hopped like a little sparrow through the door and onto the +street, and she heard his boyish voice calling out: "Evenin' papers, +last edishun—all 'bout the big graft 'sposure."</p> + +<p>Just then the big white touring car discharged its merry load at the +door, and the house was filled with the chatter and laughter of the +children. In vain she tried to find a quiet corner where she could be +alone with her heart—it was impossible to escape from the hilarious +celebration of her birthday. She was so glad when the children said +good-night and went off to bed, and she could seek the quiet of her +own room.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span>As she bade her father good night, he said: "Well, daughter, I hope +you have enjoyed your birthday and all your gifts?"</p> + +<p>At this all the honesty of her nature, all the hatred of sham, rose up +in one indignant outburst, and she exclaimed: "I have had no gifts, +neither has this been my birthday celebration."</p> + +<p>"Why, Marcia!" said her father in an aggrieved tone, "this certainly +is your birthday, and we have been very happy in keeping it for love +of you."</p> + +<p>"I have failed to see any manifestation of love to me," retorted +Marcia. "You may have had a happy time, but I have not been in it; you +have given gifts to one another, but I have had just one"—and she +held up the bunch of violets. "This is a gift of love from little lame +Joe, in answer to his prayer, and in pity for my hungry heart."</p> + +<p>There was silence in the room for a moment, and then her father +answered: "It seems to me, daughter, that when you get right down to a +personal application, what you believe in after all is a 'white +birthday'."</p> + +<p>The words went through her like an electric shock, and with a start +she awoke, and sat upright in her chair; and, lo, it was all a dream!</p> + +<p>Marcia looked around the room, shook herself a little, stirred the +fire, and put on fresh coal. She laughed at the remembrance of her +dream, and its absurdity! How glad she was that it was only a dream! +But was it only a dream? Was it not a reality? Was not this the way +she had kept the Lord's birthday? When she had opened her Christmas +treasure, how much had been given Him and for love of Him? How large a +place had she given<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> Him in the season's activity? Had she ever made +room for Him as the central figure of it all; or had he been crowded +out, and His rightful place given to Santa Claus and the world's +merry-making?</p> + +<p>In the light of the Spirit she saw that the Star of Bethlehem always +leads to the cross of Calvary. She had never liked to think about the +cross before, but now it was all illumined with the glory of the love +which gave to us God's best, his only begotten Son. She remembered how +the Lord Jesus had said: "If I be lifted up, I will draw all men unto +Me." She saw that it is as we see Christ on the cross for us that we +are drawn to Him.</p> + +<p>In that still hour, on her knees, at the foot of the cross, Marcia +with great gladness made her first "White Gift" unto her Lord—she +gave HERSELF to Him.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1" id="Footnote_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1"><span class="label">*</span></a> By permission of the author and the publisher, Pittsburgh +Christian Advocate.</p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span></p> +<h3>THE FIR TREE<a name="FNanchor_2" id="FNanchor_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2" class="fnanchor">*</a></h3> + +<h4><span class="smcap">Adapted by J. H. Stickney</span></h4> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span>Far away in the forest, where the warm sun and the fresh air made a +sweet resting place, grew a pretty little fir tree. The situation was +all that could be desired; and yet it was not happy, it wished so much +to be like its tall companions, the pines and firs which grew around +it.</p> + +<p>The sun shone, and the soft air fluttered its leaves, and the little +peasant children passed by, prattling merrily; but the fir tree did +not heed them.</p> + +<p>Sometimes the children would bring a large basket of raspberries or +strawberries, wreathed in straws, and seat themselves near the fir +tree, and say, "Is it not a pretty little tree?" which made it feel +even more unhappy than before.</p> + +<p>And yet all this while the tree grew a notch or joint taller every +year; for by the number of joints in the stem of a fir tree we can +discover its age.</p> + +<p>Still, as it grew, it complained: "Oh! how I wish I were as tall as +the other trees; then I would spread out my branches on every side, +and my crown would overlook the wide world around. I should have the +birds building their nests on my boughs, and when the wind blew, I +should bow with stately dignity, like my tall companions."</p> + +<p>So discontented was the tree, that it took no pleasure in the warm +sunshine, the birds, or the rosy clouds that floated over it morning +and evening.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span>Sometimes in winter, when the snow lay white and glittering on the +ground, there was a little hare that would come springing along, and +jump right over the little tree's head; then how mortified it would +feel.</p> + +<p>Two winters passed; and when the third arrived, the tree had grown so +tall that the hare was obliged to run round it. Yet it remained +unsatisfied, and would exclaim, "Oh! to grow, to grow; if I could but +keep on growing tall and old! There is nothing else worth caring for +in the world."</p> + +<p>In the autumn the woodcutters came, as usual, and cut down several of +the tallest trees; and the young fir, which was now grown to its full +height, shuddered as the noble trees fell to the earth with a crash.</p> + +<p>After the branches were lopped off, the trunks looked so slender and +bare that they could scarcely be recognized. Then they were placed, +one upon another, upon wagons, and drawn by horses out of the forest. +"Where could they be going? What would become of them?" The young fir +tree wished very much to know.</p> + +<p>So in the spring, when the swallows and the storks came, it asked, "Do +you know where those trees were taken? Did you meet them?"</p> + +<p>The swallows knew nothing; but the stork, after a little reflection, +nodded his head, and said, "Yes, I think I do. As I flew from Egypt, I +saw several new ships, and they had fine masts that smelt like fir. +These must have been the trees; and I assure you they were stately; +they sailed right gloriously!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, how I wish I were tall enough to go on the sea,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> said the fir +tree. "Tell me what is this sea, and what does it look like?"</p> + +<p>"It would take too much time to explain, a great deal too much," said +the stork, flying quickly away.</p> + +<p>"Rejoice in thy youth," said the sunbeam; "rejoice in thy fresh +growth, and in the young life that is in thee."</p> + +<p>And the wind kissed the tree, and the dew watered it with tears; but +the fir tree regarded them not.</p> + +<p>Christmas time drew near, and many young trees were cut down, some +that were even smaller and younger than the fir tree, who enjoyed +neither rest nor peace with longing to leave its forest home. These +young trees, which were chosen for their beauty, kept their branches, +and were also laid on wagons, and drawn by horses far away out of the +forest.</p> + +<p>"Where are they going?" asked the fir tree. "They are not taller than +I am; indeed, one is not so tall. And why do they keep all their +branches? Where are they going?"</p> + +<p>"We know, we know," sang the sparrows; "we have looked in at the +windows of the houses in the town, and we know what is done with them. +Oh! you cannot think what honor and glory they receive. They are +dressed up in the most splendid manner. We have seen them standing in +the middle of a warm room, and adorned with all sorts of beautiful +things;—honey cakes, gilded apples, playthings, and many hundreds of +wax tapers."</p> + +<p>"And then," asked the fir tree, trembling in all its branches, "and +then what happens?"</p> + +<p>"We did not see any more," said the sparrows; "but this was enough for +us."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span>"I wonder whether anything so brilliant will ever happen to me," +thought the fir tree. "It would be better even than crossing the sea. +I long for it almost with pain. Oh, when will Christmas be here? I am +now as tall and well grown as those which were taken away last year. +Oh, that I were now laid on the wagon, or standing in the warm room, +with all that brightness and splendor around me! Something better and +more beautiful is to come after, or the trees would not be so decked +out. Yes, what follows will be grander and more splendid. What can it +be? I am weary with longing. I scarcely know what it is that I feel."</p> + +<p>"Rejoice in our love," said the air and the sunlight. "Enjoy thine own +bright life in the fresh air."</p> + +<p>But the tree would not rejoice, though it grew taller every day and, +winter and summer, its dark green foliage might be seen in the +forests, while passersby would say, "What a beautiful tree!"</p> + +<p>A short time before Christmas the discontented fir tree was the first +to fall. As the axe cut sharply through the stem, and divided the +pith, the tree fell with a groan to the earth, conscious of pain and +faintness, and forgetting all its dreams of happiness, in sorrow at +leaving its home in the forest. It knew that it should never again see +its dear old companions, the trees, nor the little bushes and +many-colored flowers that had grown by its side; perhaps not even the +birds. Nor was the journey at all pleasant.</p> + +<p>The tree first recovered itself while being unpacked in the courtyard +of a house, with several other trees; and it <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span>heard a man say, "We +only want one, and this is the prettiest. This is beautiful!"</p> + +<p>Then came two servants in grand livery, and carried the fir tree into +a large and beautiful apartment. Pictures hung on the walls, and near +the great stove stood great china vases, with lions on the lids. There +were rocking chairs, silken sofas, large tables covered with pictures, +books, and playthings that had cost a hundred times a hundred dollars; +at least so said the children.</p> + +<p>Then the fir tree was placed in a large tub, full of sand; but green +baize hung all around it, so that no one could know it was a tub; and +it stood on a very handsome carpet. Oh, how the fir tree trembled! +What was going to happen to him now? Some young ladies came in, and +the servants helped them to adorn the tree.</p> + +<p>On one branch they hung little bags cut out of colored paper, and each +bag was filled with sweetmeats. From other branches hung gilded apples +and walnuts, and all around were hundreds of red, blue and white +tapers, which were fastened upon the branches. Dolls, exactly like +real men and women, were placed under the green leaves,—and the tree +had never seen such things before,—and at the top was fastened a +glittering star, made of gold tinsel. Oh, it was very beautiful. "This +evening," they all exclaimed, "how bright it will be!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, that the evening were come," thought the tree, "and the tapers +lighted! Then I should know what else is going to happen. Will the +trees of the forest come to see me? Will the sparrows peep in at the +windows, I wonder, as they fly? Shall I grow faster here, and keep on +all these ornaments during summer and winter?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> But guessing was of +very little use. His back ached with trying; and this pain is as bad +for a slender fir tree as headache is for us.</p> + +<p>At last the tapers were lighted, and then what a glistening blaze of +splendor the tree presented! It trembled so with joy in all its +branches, that one of the candles fell among the green leaves and +burnt some of them. "Help! help!" exclaimed the young ladies; but +there was no danger, for they quickly extinguished the fire.</p> + +<p>After this the tree tried not to tremble at all, though the fire +frightened him, he was so anxious not to hurt any of the beautiful +ornaments, even while their brilliancy dazzled him.</p> + +<p>And now the folding doors were thrown open, and a troop of children +rushed in as if they intended to upset the tree, and were followed +more slowly by their elders. For a moment the little ones stood silent +with astonishment, and then they shouted for joy till the room rang; +and they danced merrily round the tree, while one present after +another was taken from it.</p> + +<p>"What are they doing? What will happen next?" thought the tree. At +last the candles burned down to the branches, and were put out. Then +the children received permission to plunder the tree.</p> + +<p>Oh, how they rushed upon it! There was such a riot that the branches +cracked, and had it not been fastened with the glistening star to the +ceiling, it must have been thrown down.</p> + +<p>Then the children danced about with their pretty toys, and no one +noticed the tree, except the children's maid, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span>who came and peeped +among the branches to see if an apple or a fig had been forgotten.</p> + +<p>"A story, a story," cried the children, pulling a little fat man +toward the tree.</p> + +<p>"Now we shall be in green shade," said the man, as he seated himself +under it, "and the tree will have the pleasure of hearing also; but I +shall only relate one story. What shall it be? Ivede-Avede, or +Humpty-Dumpty, who fell down stairs, but soon got up again, and at +last married a princess?"</p> + +<p>"Ivede-Avede," cried some. "Humpty-Dumpty," cried others; and there +was a famous uproar. But the fir tree remained quite still, and +thought to himself, "Shall I have anything to do with all this? Ought +I to make a noise too?" but he had already amused them as much as they +wished.</p> + +<p>Then the old man told them the story of Humpty-Dumpty;—how he fell +downstairs and was raised up again, and married a princess. And the +children clapped their hands and cried "Tell another, tell another," +for they wanted to hear the story of Ivede-Avede; but this time they +had only Humpty-Dumpty. After this the fir tree became quite silent +and thoughtful. Never had the birds in the forest told such tales as +Humpty-Dumpty who fell down stairs, and yet married a princess.</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes! so it happens in the world," thought the fir tree. He +believed it all, because it was related by such a pleasant man.</p> + +<p>"Ah, well!" he thought, "who knows? Perhaps I may fall down too and +marry a princess;" and he looked forward joyfully to the next evening, +expecting to be again <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span>decked out with lights and playthings, gold and +fruit. "Tomorrow I will not tremble," thought he; "I will enjoy all my +splendor, and I shall hear the story of Humpty-Dumpty again, and +perhaps Ivede-Avede." And the tree remained quiet and thoughtful all +night.</p> + +<p>In the morning the servants and the housemaid came in. "Now," thought +the fir tree, "all my splendor is going to begin again." But they +dragged him out of the room and upstairs to the garret and threw him +on the floor, in a dark corner where no daylight shone, and there they +left him. "What does this mean?" thought the tree. "What am I to do +here? I can hear nothing in a place like this;" and he leaned against +the wall and thought and thought.</p> + +<p>And he had time enough to think, for days and nights passed, and no +one came near him; and when at last somebody did come, it was only to +push away some large boxes in a corner. So the tree was completely +hidden from sight as if it had never existed.</p> + +<p>"It is winter now," thought the tree; "the ground is hard and covered +with snow, so that people cannot plant me. I shall be sheltered here, +I dare say, until spring comes. How thoughtful and kind everybody is +to me! Still, I wish this place were not so dark and so dreadfully +lonely, with not even a little hare to look at. How pleasant it was +out in the forest while the snow lay on the ground, when the hare +would run by, yes, and jump over me too, although I did not like it +then. Oh! it is terribly lonely here."</p> + +<p>"Squeak, squeak," said a little mouse, creeping cautiously towards the +tree; then came another, and they <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span>both sniffed at the fir tree, and +crept in and out between the branches.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it is very cold here," said the little mouse. "If it were not, we +would be very comfortable here, wouldn't we, old fir tree?"</p> + +<p>"I am not old," said the fir tree. "There are many who are older than +I am."</p> + +<p>"Where do you come from?" asked the mice, who were full of curiosity; +"and what do you know? Have you seen the most beautiful places in the +world, and can you tell us all about them? And have you been in the +storeroom, where cheeses lie on the shelf and hams hang from the +ceiling? One can run about on tallow candles there; one can go in thin +and come out fat."</p> + +<p>"I know nothing of that," said the fir tree; "but I know the wood +where the sun shines and the birds sing." And then the tree told the +little mice all about its youth. They had never heard such an account +in their lives; and after they had listened to it attentively, they +said, "What a number of things you have seen! You must have been very +happy."</p> + +<p>"Happy!" exclaimed the fir tree; and then, as he reflected on what he +had been telling them, he said, "Ah, yes! after all, those were happy +days." But when he went on and related all about Christmas eve, and +how he had been dressed up with cakes and lights, the mice said, "How +happy you must have been, you old fir tree."</p> + +<p>"I am not old at all," replied the tree; "I only came from the forest +this winter. I am now checked in my growth."</p> + +<p>"What splendid stories you can tell," said the little <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span>mice. And the +next night four other mice came with them to hear what the tree had to +tell. The more he talked, the more he remembered, and then he thought +to himself, "Yes, those were happy days; but they may come again. +Humpty-Dumpty fell downstairs, and yet he married a princess. Perhaps +I may marry a princess too." And the fir tree thought of the pretty +little birch tree that grew in the forest; a real princess, a +beautiful princess, she was to him.</p> + +<p>"Who is Humpty-Dumpty?" asked the little mice. And then the tree +related the whole story; he could remember every single word. And the +little mice were so delighted with it, that they were ready to jump to +the top of the tree. The next night a great many more mice made their +appearance, and on Sunday two rats came with them; but they said it +was not a pretty story at all, and the little mice were very sorry, +for it made them also think less of it.</p> + +<p>"Do you know only that one story?" asked the rats.</p> + +<p>"Only that one," replied the fir tree. "I heard it on the happiest +evening of my life; but I did not know I was so happy at the time."</p> + +<p>"We think it is a very miserable story," said the rats. "Don't you +know any story about bacon or tallow in the storeroom?"</p> + +<p>"No," replied the tree.</p> + +<p>"Many thanks to you, then," replied the rats, and they went their +ways.</p> + +<p>The little mice also kept away after this, and the tree sighed and +said, "It was very pleasant when the merry little mice sat around me +and listened while I talked.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> Now that is all past too. However, I +shall consider myself happy when someone comes to take me out of this +place."</p> + +<p>But would this ever happen? Yes; one morning people came to clear up +the garret; the boxes were packed away, and the tree was pulled out of +the corner and thrown roughly on the floor; then the servants dragged +it out upon the staircase where the daylight shone.</p> + +<p>"Now life is beginning again," said the tree, rejoicing in the +sunshine and fresh air. Then it was carried downstairs and taken into +the courtyard so quickly that it forgot to think of itself, and could +only look about, there was so much to be seen.</p> + +<p>The court was close to a garden, where everything looked blooming. +Fresh and fragrant roses hung over the little palings. The linden +trees were in blossom; while the swallows flew here and there crying, +"Twit, twit, twit, my mate is coming;" but it was not the fir tree +they meant.</p> + +<p>"Now I shall live," cried the tree joyfully, spreading out its +branches; but alas! they were all withered and yellow, and it lay in a +corner amongst weeds and nettles. The star of gold paper still stuck +in the top of the tree, and glittered in the sunshine.</p> + +<p>In the same courtyard two of the merry children were playing who had +danced round the tree at Christmas time and had been so happy. The +youngest saw the gilded star and ran and pulled it off the tree. "Look +what is sticking to the ugly old fir tree," said the child, treading +on the branches till they crackled under his boots.</p> + +<p>And the tree saw all the fresh, bright flowers in the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span>garden, and +then looked at itself, and wished it had remained in the dark corner +of the garret. It thought of its fresh youth in the forest, of the +merry Christmas evening, and of the little mice who had listened to +the story of Humpty-Dumpty.</p> + +<p>"Past! past!" said the poor tree. "Oh, had I but enjoyed myself while +I could have done so! but now it is too late."</p> + +<p>Then a lad came and chopped the tree into small pieces, till a large +bundle lay in a heap on the ground. The pieces were placed in the +fire, and they blazed up brightly, while the tree sighed so deeply +that each sigh was like a little pistol shot. Then the children, who +were at play, came and seated themselves in front of the fire and +looked at it, and cried, "Pop, pop." But at each "pop," which was a +deep sigh, the tree was thinking of a summer day in the forest, or of +some winter night there when the stars shone brightly, and of +Christmas evening and of Humpty-Dumpty, the only story it had ever +heard, or knew how to relate,—till at last it was consumed.</p> + +<p>The boys still played in the garden, and the youngest wore the golden +star on his breast with which the tree had been adorned during the +happiest evening of its existence. Now all was past; the tree's life +was past, and the story also past! for all stories must come to an end +some time or other.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2" id="Footnote_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2"><span class="label">*</span></a> From "Hans Andersen's Fairy Tales," adapted by J. H. +Stickney. By permission of the publishers—Ginn and Company.</p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p> +<h3>THE LITTLE MATCH GIRL<a name="FNanchor_3" id="FNanchor_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3" class="fnanchor">*</a></h3> + +<h4><span class="smcap">Hans Andersen</span></h4> + + +<p>It was dreadfully cold; it was snowing fast, and was almost dark, as +evening came on—the last evening of the year. In the cold and the +darkness, there went along the street a poor little girl, bareheaded +and with naked feet. When she left home she had slippers on, it is +true; but they were much too large for her feet,—slippers that her +mother had used until then, and the poor little girl lost them in +running across the street when two carriages were passing terribly +fast. When she looked for them, one was not to be found, and a boy +seized the other and ran away with it, saying he would use it for a +cradle some day, when he had children of his own.</p> + +<p>So on the little girl went with her bare feet, that were red and blue +with cold. In an old apron that she wore were bundles of matches, and +she carried a bundle also in her hand. No one had bought so much as a +bunch all the long day, and no one had given her even a penny.</p> + +<p>Poor little girl! Shivering with cold and hunger she crept along, a +perfect picture of misery!</p> + +<p>The snowflakes fell on her long flaxen hair, which hung in pretty +curls about her throat; but she thought not of her beauty nor of the +cold. Lights gleamed in every window, and there came to her the savory +smell of roast goose, for it was New Year's Eve. And it was of this +which she thought.</p> + +<p>In a corner formed by two houses, one of which <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span>projected beyond the +other, she sat cowering down. She had drawn under her little feet, but +still she grew colder and colder; yet she dared not go home, for she +had sold no matches, and could not bring a penny of money. Her father +would certainly beat her; and, besides, it was cold enough at home, +for they had only the houseroof above them; and, though the largest +holes had been stopped with straw and rags, there were left many +through which the cold wind whistled.</p> + +<p>And now her little hands were nearly frozen with cold. Alas! a single +match might do her good if she might only draw it from the bundle, rub +it against the wall, and warm her fingers by it. So at last she drew +one out. Whischt! How it blazed and burned! It gave out a warm, bright +flame like a little candle, as she held her hands over it. A wonderful +little light it was. It really seemed to the little girl as if she sat +before a great iron stove, with polished brass feet and brass shovel +and tongs. So blessedly it burned that the little maiden stretched out +her feet to warm them also. How comfortable she was! But lo! the flame +went out, the stove vanished, and nothing remained but the little +burned match in her hand.</p> + +<p>She rubbed another match against the wall. It burned brightly, and +where the light fell upon the wall it became transparent like a veil, +so that she could see through it into the room. A snow-white cloth was +spread upon the table, on which was a beautiful china dinner service, +while a roast goose, stuffed with apples and prunes, steamed famously, +and sent forth a most savory smell. And what was more delightful +still, and wonderful, the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span>goose jumped from the dish, with knife and +fork still in its breast, and waddled along the floor straight to the +little girl.</p> + +<p>But the match went out then, and nothing was left to her but the +thick, damp wall.</p> + +<p>She lighted another match. And now she was under a most beautiful +Christmas tree, larger and far more prettily trimmed than the one she +had seen through the glass doors at the rich merchant's. Hundreds of +wax tapers were burning on the green branches, and gay figures, such +as she had seen in the shop windows, looked down upon her. The child +stretched out her hands to them; then the match went out.</p> + +<p>Still the lights of the Christmas tree rose higher and higher. She saw +them as stars in heaven, and one of them fell, forming a long trail of +fire.</p> + +<p>"Now some one is dying," murmured the child softly; for her +grandmother, the only person who had loved her and who was now dead, +had told her that whenever a star falls a soul mounts up to God.</p> + +<p>She struck yet another match against the wall, and again it was light; +and in the brightness there appeared before her the dear old +grandmother, bright and radiant, yet sweet and mild, and happy as she +had never looked on earth.</p> + +<p>"Oh, grandmother," cried the child, "take me with you. I know you will +go away when the match burns out. You, too, will vanish, like the warm +stove, the splendid New Year's feast, the beautiful Christmas Tree." +And lest her grandmother should disappear, she rubbed the whole bundle +of matches against the wall.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span>And the matches burned with such a brilliant light that it became +brighter than noonday. Her grandmother had never looked so grand and +beautiful. She took the little girl in her arms, and both flew +together, joyously and gloriously, mounting higher and higher, far +above the earth; and for them there was neither hunger, nor cold, nor +care;—they were with God.</p> + +<p>But in the corner, at the dawn of day, sat the poor girl, leaning +against the wall, with red cheeks and smiling mouth,—frozen to death +on the last evening of the old year. Stiff and cold she sat, with the +matches, one bundle of which was burned.</p> + +<p>"She wanted to warm herself, poor little thing," people said. No one +imagined what sweet visions she had had, or how gloriously she had +gone with her grandmother to enter upon the joys of a new year.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3" id="Footnote_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3"><span class="label">*</span></a> From "Hans Andersen's Fairy Tales." By permission of +publishers—Ginn & Company.</p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span></p> +<h3>LITTLE PICCOLA<a name="FNanchor_4" id="FNanchor_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4" class="fnanchor">*</a></h3> + +<h4><span class="smcap">Suggested by One of Mrs. Celia Thaxter's Poems</span></h4> + +<p class="center" style="margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%;"> +"Story-telling is a real strengthening spirit-bath."—<i>Froebel.</i></p> + + +<p>Piccola lived in Italy, where the oranges grow, and where all the year +the sun shines warm and bright. I suppose you think Piccola a very +strange name for a little girl; but in her country it was not strange +at all, and her mother thought it the sweetest name a little girl ever +had.</p> + +<p>Piccola had no kind father, no big brother or sister, and no sweet +baby to play with and love. She and her mother lived all alone in an +old stone house that looked on a dark, narrow street. They were very +poor, and the mother was away from home almost every day, washing +clothes and scrubbing floors, and working hard to earn money for her +little girl and herself. So you see Piccola was alone a great deal of +the time; and if she had not been a very happy, contented little +child, I hardly know what she would have done. She had no playthings +except a heap of stones in the back yard that she used for building +houses and a very old, very ragged doll that her mother had found in +the street one day.</p> + +<p>But there was a small round hole in the stone wall at the back of her +yard, and her greatest pleasure was to look through that into her +neighbor's garden. When she stood on a stone, and put her eyes close +to the hole, she could see the green grass in the garden, and smell +the sweet flowers, and even hear the water splashing into the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span>fountain. She had never seen anyone walking in the garden, for it +belonged to an old gentleman who did not care about grass and flowers.</p> + +<p>One day in the autumn her mother told her that the old gentleman had +gone away, and had rented his house to a family of little American +children, who had come with their sick mother to spend the winter in +Italy. After this, Piccola was never lonely, for all day long the +children ran and played and danced and sang in the garden. It was +several weeks before they saw her at all, and I am not sure they ever +would have done so but one day the kitten ran away, and in chasing her +they came close to the wall and saw Piccola's black eyes looking +through the hole in the stones. They were a little frightened at +first, and did not speak to her; but the next day she was there again, +and Rose, the oldest girl, went up to the wall and talked to her a +little while. When the children found that she had no one to play with +and was very lonely, they talked to her every day, and often brought +her fruits and candies, and passed them through the hole in the wall.</p> + +<p>One day they even pushed the kitten through; but the hole was hardly +large enough for her, and she mewed and scratched and was very much +frightened. After that the little boy said he would ask his father if +the hole might not be made larger, and then Piccola could come in and +play with them. The father had found out that Piccola's mother was a +good woman, and that the little girl herself was sweet and kind, so +that he was very glad to have some of the stones broken away and an +opening made for Piccola to come in.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span>How excited she was, and how glad the children were when she first +stepped into the garden! She wore her best dress, a long, +bright-colored woolen skirt and a white waist. Round her neck was a +string of beads, and on her feet were little wooden shoes. It would +seem very strange to us—would it not?—to wear wooden shoes; but +Piccola and her mother had never worn anything else, and never had any +money to buy stockings. Piccola almost always ran about barefooted, +like the kittens and the chickens and the little ducks. What a good +time they had that day, and how glad Piccola's mother was that her +little girl could have such a pleasant, safe place to play in, while +she was away at work!</p> + +<p>By and by December came, and the little Americans began to talk about +Christmas. One day, when Piccola's curly head and bright eyes came +peeping through the hole in the wall, and they ran to her and helped +her in; and as they did so, they all asked her at once what she +thought she would have for a Christmas present. "A Christmas present!" +said Piccola. "Why, what is that?"</p> + +<p>All the children looked surprised at this, and Rose said, rather +gravely, "Dear Piccola, don't you know what Christmas is?"</p> + +<p>Oh, yes, Piccola knew it was the happy day when the baby Christ was +born, and she had been to church on that day and heard the beautiful +singing, and had seen the picture of the Babe lying in the manger, +with cattle and sheep sleeping round about. Oh, yes, she knew all that +very well, but what was a Christmas present?</p> + +<p>Then the children began to laugh and to answer her all together. There +was such a clatter of tongues that <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span>she could hear only a few of the +words now and then, such as "chimney," "Santa Claus," "stockings," +"reindeer," "Christmas Eve," "candies and toys." Piccola put her hands +over her ears and said, "Oh, I can't understand one word. You tell me, +Rose." Then Rose told her all about jolly Santa Claus, with his red +cheeks and white beard and fur coat, and about his reindeer and sleigh +full of toys. "Every Christmas Eve," said Rose, "he comes down the +chimney, and fills the stockings of all the good children; so, +Piccola, you hang up your stocking, and who knows what a beautiful +Christmas present you will find when morning comes!" Of course Piccola +thought this was a delightful plan, and was very pleased to hear about +it. Then all the children told her of every Christmas Eve they could +remember, and of the presents they had had; so that she went home +thinking of nothing but dolls and hoops and balls and ribbons and +marbles and wagons and kites.</p> + +<p>She told her mother about Santa Claus, and her mother seemed to think +that perhaps he did not know there was any little girl in that house, +and very likely he would not come at all. But Piccola felt very sure +Santa Claus would remember her, for her little friends had promised to +send a letter up the chimney to remind him.</p> + +<p>Christmas Eve came at last. Piccola's mother hurried home from her +work; they had their little supper of soup and bread, and soon it was +bedtime,—time to get ready for Santa Claus. But oh! Piccola +remembered then for the first time that the children had told her she +must hang up her stocking, and she hadn't any, and neither had her +mother.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span>How sad, how sad it was! Now Santa Claus would come, and perhaps be +angry because he couldn't find any place to put the present.</p> + +<p>The poor little girl stood by the fireplace, and the big tears began +to run down her cheeks. Just then her mother called to her, "Hurry, +Piccola; come to bed." What should she do? But she stopped crying, and +tried to think; and in a moment she remembered her wooden shoes, and +ran off to get one of them. She put it close to the chimney, and said +to herself, "Surely Santa Claus will know what it's there for. He will +know I haven't any stockings, so I gave him the shoe instead."</p> + +<p>Then she went off happily to her bed, and was asleep almost as soon as +she had nestled close to her mother's side.</p> + +<p>The sun had only just begun to shine, next morning, when Piccola +awoke. With one jump she was out on the floor and running toward the +chimney. The wooden shoe was lying where she had left it, but you +could never, never guess what was in it.</p> + +<p>Piccola had not meant to wake her mother, but this surprise was more +than any little girl could bear and yet be quiet; so she danced to the +bed with the shoe in her hand, calling, "Mother, mother! look, look! +see the present Santa Claus brought me!"</p> + +<p>Her mother raised her head and looked into the shoe. "Why, Piccola," +she said, "a little chimney swallow nestling in your shoe? What a good +Santa Claus to bring you a bird!"</p> + +<p>"Good Santa Claus, dear Santa Claus!" cried Piccola; and she kissed +her mother and kissed the bird and kissed <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span>the shoe, and even threw +kisses up the chimney, she was so happy.</p> + +<p>When the birdling was taken out of the shoe, they found that he did +not try to fly, only to hop about the room; and as they looked closer, +they could see that one of his wings was hurt a little. But the mother +bound it up carefully, so that it did not seem to pain him, and he was +so gentle that he took a drink of water from a cup, and even ate +crumbs and seeds out of Piccola's hands. She was a proud little girl +when she took her Christmas present to show the children in the +garden. They had had a great many gifts,—dolls that could say +"mamma," bright picture books, trains of cars, toy pianos; but not one +of their playthings was alive, like Piccola's birdling. They were as +pleased as she, and Rose hunted about the house until she found a +large wicker cage that belonged to a blackbird she once had. She gave +the cage to Piccola, and the swallow seemed to make himself quite at +home in it at once, and sat on the perch winking his bright eyes at +the children. Rose had saved a bag of candies for Piccola, and when +she went home at last, with the cage and her dear swallow safely +inside it, I am sure there was not a happier little girl in the whole +country of Italy.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4" id="Footnote_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4"><span class="label">*</span></a> From "The Story Hour," by Wiggins and Smith. Published by +consent of the authors and also the publishers—Houghton, Mifflin and +Company.</p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span></p> +<h3>THE SHEPHERD'S STORY<a name="FNanchor_5" id="FNanchor_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5" class="fnanchor">*</a></h3> + +<h4><span class="smcap">Washington Gladden</span></h4> + + +<p>"Bring hither that sheepskin, Joseph, and lay it down on this bank of +dry earth, under this shelving rock. The wind blows chilly from the +west, but the rock will shelter us. The sky is fair and the moon is +rising, and we can sit here and watch the flocks on the hillside +below. Your young blood and your father's coat of skins will keep you +warm for one watch, I am sure. At midnight, my son, your father, +Reuben, and his brother James will take our places; for the first +watch the old man and the boy will tend the sheep."</p> + +<p>"Yes, grandfather; you shall sit in that snug corner of the rock, +where you can lean back and take your comfort. I will lie here at your +feet. Now and then I will run to see whether the sheep are wandering, +and that will warm me, if I grow cold."</p> + +<p>"Have you never been out on the hills at night with your father?"</p> + +<p>"Never, grandfather. I have often begged him to let me come; but he +kept saying that I must wait until I was twelve years old. On the last +full moon was my birthday and today, when he returned from Bethlehem +to the flocks, he brought me with him."</p> + +<p>"So this is the lad's first night with the sheep in the fields, and +the old man's last night, I fear," said the aged shepherd, sadly. "It +is not often in these days that I venture out to keep the watches of +the flock; but this one <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span>night of the year I have spent upon these +hills these many years, and I always shall as long as I have strength +to walk so far."</p> + +<p>"Was your father, too, a shepherd?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and all his fathers before him for many generations. On these +hills my ancestors have kept their sheep for I know not how long."</p> + +<p>Joseph was still for a moment. His eyes wandered away over the silent +hills, lit by the rising moon. His face was troubled. At length, he +said gently:</p> + +<p>"Grandfather, I heard Rabbi Eliezer saying, the other day, in the +synagogue, that a shepherd's life is not a noble life. He was reading +from one of the old doctors, who said: 'Let no one make his son a +camel-driver, a barber, a sailor, a shepherd, or a shopkeeper. They +are dishonest callings.' I was angry when he read it; but I held my +peace."</p> + +<p>"You did well, my son, to hold your peace. I myself have often heard +such words, of late, from the doctors in the synagogues; but it is not +wise to answer them. Where they got their notions, I know not. From +the Egyptians, I think, more than from the prophets. All Egyptians +hate shepherds, and can never speak of them without sneering. Perhaps +they have not yet forgotten how the shepherds conquered and ruled them +for generations. Nevertheless, there is some reason why the calling of +the shepherds should be despised. Many of them are rude and fierce +men. Living out of doors so constantly makes their manners rough and +their temper harsh. They are often quarrelsome. Such bloody fights as +I used to see among them, at the wells in the south country, where +they <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span>brought their flocks to water and each one wanted the first +chance at the well, I hope you will never look upon."</p> + +<p>"But all shepherds are not so," protested Joseph.</p> + +<p>"No, indeed. Brave men they must be; fleet of foot and strong of limb +and stout of heart; but brave men are not always quarrelsome. Many a +shepherd whom I have known had a heart as pure and gentle as a +child's. And the godliest men that I have known have been among them. +If the shepherd has but learned to think, to commune with his own +soul, he has time for thought and time for prayer. More than one with +whom I have watched upon these hills knew all the Psalms of David by +heart and many of the books of the prophets. The doctors in the +synagogues teach only the law; the shepherds love best the Psalms and +the prophets. They do not forget that King David was himself a +shepherd's lad. It was upon these very hills that he kept his father's +sheep. It was in that ravine over yonder, on that hillside, that he, a +mere stripling, caught by the beard and killed the lion and the bear +that attacked the sheep. It was on that slope, just a little to the +south, that the messenger found him with his flocks when he was called +home to be anointed by Samuel the prophet. When the doctors talk so +contemptuously about the shepherds, I wonder if they do not remember +that the great king wrote: 'The Lord is my Shepherd.' How can our +calling be so mean as they say, when David, who was called from the +sheepfolds, praises the Eternal One himself as his Shepherd? But hark! +what noise is that I hear? There is some trouble among the sheep."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span>"Let me run and see," answers the boy, "and I will come and bring you +word."</p> + +<p>So saying, Joseph cast off his father's shaggy coat, seized the sling +in his left hand and the crook in his right and ran swiftly out to the +brow of the hill. He was a strong lad, large of frame and a swift +runner, and the sling in his hand was a sure weapon. The old man +looked after him with pride, as he bounded over the rocks, and said to +himself:</p> + +<p>"Some evil beast, I doubt not. But the lad's heart is brave and he +must learn to face dangers. I will wait a moment."</p> + +<p>Presently the sheep came huddling round the hill in terror. The quick, +faint bleat of the ewes showed that they had seen a foe. The old man +arose and hurried in the direction in which the lad had disappeared. +Joseph was just returning, breathless, from the ravine below.</p> + +<p>"It was a wolf, grandfather. The sheep on this side of the ledge had +seen him and were flying. Just as I reached the brow of the hill, he +was creeping round the end of the ledge below, ready to spring upon a +ewe that was feeding near. The first thing he knew a stone from my +sling hit him, and he went howling down the hill. I think I broke his +leg, for he went on three legs and I gained on him as I ran after him; +but he crawled into a narrow place among the rocks in the gorge down +yonder, and I could not follow him."</p> + +<p>"Well done, my lad," said the ancient Stephanus proudly. "You will +make a good shepherd. These single wolves are cowards. It is always +safe to face them. When they come in packs, it is quite another thing. +But <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span>this fellow will keep at a safe distance for the rest of the +night, you may depend. Let us go back to our shelter and call the +sheep together."</p> + +<p>It was several minutes before Stephanus and Joseph could collect the +sheep that the wolf had scattered; but at length, with the aid of the +dog, who was not a very brave specimen, and who had taken to his heels +when he saw the wolf coming, they succeeded in driving them into a +safe neighborhood, and then, with their blood quickened by the +adventure, they sat down again beneath the overhanging rock.</p> + +<p>"You said, grandfather, that you always spent this night with the +flocks in the fields. Why this night?" asked the boy.</p> + +<p>"Do you not know, my boy, that this is the night of the year on which +the Lord Christ was born?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! yes," answered the lad. "My father told me as we were walking +hither today, but I had forgotten it. And you were with the sheep that +night?"</p> + +<p>"Aye."</p> + +<p>"Where was it?"</p> + +<p>"Here, on this very spot."</p> + +<p>The boy's eyes began to grow and fill with wonder and there was a +slight tremor in his voice as he hurriedly plied the aged man with his +eager questions. Stephanus drew his shepherd's cloak around him, and +leaned forward a little, and looked out upon the silent moonlit hills, +and then up into the sky.</p> + +<p>"How long ago was that, grandfather?"</p> + +<p>"Just fifty years ago this night."</p> + +<p>"And how old were you then?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span>"Fourteen, and a stout boy for my age. I had been for two years in +the fields with my father, and had tasted to the full the hardships +and dangers of the shepherd's life."</p> + +<p>"Who were with you on that night?"</p> + +<p>"My father, and his brother, James, and Hosea, the son of John, a +neighbor and kinsman of ours. On that year, as on this year and often, +there came in the midwinter a dry and warm season between the early +and the latter rain. We had driven forth our flocks from Bethlehem and +were dwelling by night in the shelter of the tower on the hillside +yonder, watching and sleeping two and two. My father and I were wont +to keep the early watches. At midnight we would call James and Hosea, +and they would watch till the morning. But that night, when the sun +went down and the stars came out, we were sitting here, upon this +hillside, talking of the troubles of Israel and of the promises of +deliverance spoken by the prophets; and James and Hosea were asking my +father questions, and he was answering them, for he was older than +they, and all the people of Bethlehem reverenced him as a wise and +devout man. Some even said that, if the people of Israel had not +ceased to look for prophets, they would have counted him a prophet. I +remember well that, when he rose in the synagogue, it seemed as if +some wisdom from on high touched his lips, and he would speak with +such hope and courage of the light that should yet shine in our +darkness and of the help that should yet arise to Judah, that the +people's faces would glow with joyful expectation."</p> + +<p>Stephanus paused a moment and started forward, as <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span>his eye was turned +toward his own shadow upon the rock, cast by the rising moon. Did the +old man's figure that he saw remind him of the patriarch of whom he +was talking?</p> + +<p>Soon he went on.</p> + +<p>"Ah! but they should have heard my father talking here by night, under +the stars. It was here upon these hills where the royal shepherd used +to sing, that his tongue was loosed and he spoke wonderful words. So +it was that night, fifty years ago. I remember it as if it were +yesterday. My father sat in this very niche, where I am sitting now; +James and Hosea were on either side of him. I was lying at their feet, +as you now lie at mine. Their faces kindled and the tremor of deep +feeling was in their voices as they talked together; and the other two +had lingered here three or four hours after the sun had set. It was +not a moonlit night like this, but all the stars were out and all the +winds were still.</p> + +<p>"Suddenly I saw my father rise to his feet. Then the other men sprang +up, with astonishment and wonder upon their faces. It had grown light +all at once, lighter than the brightest moon; and as I turned my face +in the direction in which the others were looking, I saw, standing +there upon that level place, a figure majestic and beautiful beyond +all the power of words to tell."</p> + +<p>"Were you not afraid, grandfather?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed, I was, my boy. My heart stopped beating. The others were +standing, but I had no power to rise. I lay there motionless upon the +earth. My eyes were fixed upon that wonderful face; upon those clear, +shining eyes; upon that brow that seemed to beam with the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span>purity of +the soul within. It was not a smile with which that face was lighted. +It was something too noble and exalted to call by that name. It was a +look that told of power and peace, of joy and triumph."</p> + +<p>"Did you know that it was an angel?"</p> + +<p>"I knew not anything. I only knew that what I saw was glorious, too +glorious for mortal eyes to look upon. Yet, while I gazed, and in far +less time than I have now taken to tell you of what I saw, the +terribleness of the look began to disappear, the sweetness and grace +of the soul shone forth, and I had almost ceased to tremble before the +angel opened his mouth. And when he spoke, his voice, clearer than any +trumpet and sweeter than any lute, charmed away all my fears."</p> + +<p>"'Be not afraid' he said, 'for behold I bring you good tidings of +great joy which shall be to all people. For there is born to you this +day, in the City of David, a Savior, which is Messiah, the King. And +this is the sign unto you. Ye shall find a babe wrapped in swaddling +clothes and lying in a manger.'</p> + +<p>"Oh! that voice, my boy! It makes my heart beat now to remember its +sweetness. It seemed to carry these words into our innermost hearts; +to print them on our memory, so that we never could forget one +syllable of what he said. And then, before we had time to make reply, +he turned aside a little and lifted his face toward heaven, and, in a +tone far louder than that in which he had spoken to us, but yet so +sweet that it did not startle us at all, came forth from his lips the +first strain of the great song:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'Glory to God in the highest!'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span>"When he had uttered that, he paused a moment, and the echoes, one +after another, from hills that were near and hills that were far away, +came flying home to us; so that I knew for once what the prophet meant +when he said that all the mountains and the hills should break forth +into singing. But before the echoes had all faded we began to hear +other voices above our heads, a great chorus, taking up the strain +that the angel first had sung. At first it seemed dim and far away; +but gradually it came nearer, and filled all the air, filled all the +earth, filled all our souls with a most entrancing sweetness. Glory to +God in the highest!—that was the grandest part. It seemed as though +there could be no place so high that that strain would not mount up to +it, and no place so happy that that voice would not make it thrill +with new gladness. But then came the softer tones, less grand, but +even sweeter: 'Peace on earth; good will to men.'</p> + +<p>"Oh! my boy, if you had heard that music as I did, you would not +wonder when I tell you that it has been hard for me to wait here, in +the midst of the dreary noises of earth, for fifty years before +hearing it again. But earth that night was musical as heaven. You +should have heard the echoes that came back, when the angels' chorus +ceased, from all these mountains and all these little hills on every +side. There is music enough even in this world, if one can only call +it forth; chords divine that will vibrate with wonderful harmony. It +only needs an angel's hand to touch the trembling strings."</p> + +<p>"Did you see the choir of angels overhead, grandfather?"</p> + +<p>"Nay, I saw nothing. The brightness was too dazzl<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span>ing for mortal eyes. +We all stood there, with downcast eyes, listening spell-bound to the +wonderful melody, until the chorus ceased, and the echoes, one after +another, died away, and the glory faded out of the sky and the stars +came back again, and no sound was heard but the faint voice of a young +lamb, calling for its mother.</p> + +<p>"The first to break the silence was my father. 'Come,' he said, in a +solemn voice. 'Let us go at once to Bethlehem, and see this thing +which is come to pass, which the Lord hath made known unto us.'</p> + +<p>"So the sheep were quietly gathered into the fold at the tower, and we +hastened to Bethlehem. Never shall I forget that journey by night. We +spake not many words, as we traveled swiftly the twenty furlongs; talk +seemed altogether tame; but now and then my father broke forth in a +song, and the others joined in the chorus. We were not so spent with +running but that we could find voice for singing; and such words as +these of the prophet were the only ones that could give voice to our +swelling hearts:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'Sing, O heavens; and be joyful, O earth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And break forth into singing, O mountains;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the Lord hath comforted His people,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And will have mercy on His afflicted.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'How beautiful upon the mountains<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are the feet of Him that bringeth good tidings,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That publisheth peace,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That bringeth good tidings of good,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That publisheth salvation.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span>"It was midnight when we climbed the hill to the little city of +Bethlehem; the constellation Cesil, called by the Greeks Orion, was +just setting in the west. We knew not whither to go. We had only the +sign of the angel by which we should know the infant Messiah. He was a +babe of one day. He was lying in a manger.</p> + +<p>"'Let us go to the inn Chimham,' said my father. 'It stands on the +very spot where King David was born. Peradvanture we shall find him +there.'</p> + +<p>"Over the entrance to the court of the inn a lantern was swinging from +a rope stretched across from post to post. Guided by its light, we +entered, and found the courtyard full of beasts of burden, showing +that the inn was crowded with travelers. In the arched shelter of the +hostelry as many as could find room were lying; some who could not +sleep were sitting up and waiting drearily for the morning. Two aged +women near the entrance, were talking in a low tone.</p> + +<p>"'Peace be unto you!' said my father.</p> + +<p>"'The Lord be gracious unto thee,' answered the oldest woman, in a +solemn voice, as she looked upon my father's white beard; 'but,' she +quickly added, 'there is scanty cheer in this place for late comers.'</p> + +<p>"'We seek not lodging,' said my father; 'but know you whether among +these guests is an infant born this day?'</p> + +<p>"'Verily there is,' answered the aged dame; 'a man-child more +beautiful than any my eyes have ever beheld. He is lying in a manger +there in the cave that serves for stable.'</p> + +<p>"We hastened to the mouth of the cave, and there be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span>held our King. The +oxen and the asses were lying near, and a strong man, with a grave and +benignant face, was leaning on his staff above the manger. A beautiful +young mother lay close beside it, her cheek resting on her hands, that +were clasped over the edge of the rock-hewn crib. Into this a little +straw had been thrown, and over it a purple robe had been cast, +whereon the infant lay. A lamp, set upon a projection of the wall of +the cave, burned brightly near. The great eyes of the wonderful child +were wandering about the room; his hand touched his mother's lips. I +waited to hear him open his mouth and speak.</p> + +<p>"There was a moment of silence after we entered the cave. My father +broke it with his salutation:</p> + +<p>"'Hail, thou blessed among women!' he cried. 'This child of thine is a +Prince and a Savior.'</p> + +<p>"And then we all bowed low upon our faces before him and worshipped +him with praise and gladness.</p> + +<p>"The two aged women, with whom we had spoken, had followed us to the +door of the stable, and, seeing us worshipping there, had run to call +others who were awake in the inn, so that when we arose quite a +company were standing at the door, or just within, gazing upon the +King in his beauty and listening to our thanksgiving with great +wonder.</p> + +<p>"Then my father told them all the things that we had heard and +seen—the message of the angel, the song in the air, the glory of the +Lord that had appeared to us—and how we had quickly come to +Bethlehem, and had found things as the angel had told us. 'And it is +even,' he cried, 'as the prophet himself hath spoken: "Thou Beth<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span>lehem +Ephratah, though thou be little among the thousands of Judah, yet out +of thee shall he come forth unto me that is to be ruler in Israel, +whose going forth hast been of old; even from everlasting."'</p> + +<p>"All that heard were full of astonishment—all save the mother. I saw +no wonder on her face; the great things that my father told caused her +no astonishment; she listened with a quiet and solemn joy, like one +who was saying in her heart: 'I knew it all before.'</p> + +<p>"When my father had finished speaking, we all bowed low again before +the young child; and the mother lifted him in her arms and placed his +cheek against her own, smiling graciously on us, but uttering no word. +And we came forth from the stable and stood again beneath the stars in +the courtyard of the inn. By this time many of the travelers were +awake, and an eager company had gathered around us, all of whom +desired to be told of the sign that had been shown to us. To one and +another we rehearsed our story, lingering long to make known the good +tidings, until the morning star appeared and the dawn began to kindle +over the eastern hills. Then we hastened to our own homes in the city, +and told our kindred what had happened unto us. In the early morning +we came back again unto our pastures and our flocks, rejoicing to +stand again in the place where the glory of God had shone and the +music of heaven had filled the air."</p> + +<p>Stephanus paused, his face all aglow with the tale that he had been +telling. His eyes swept again the circuit of the moonlit hills and +were lifted reverently up to the sky.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span>"Did you ever see the Lord Christ after that?" asked Joseph.</p> + +<p>"Once only. My father and I were at Jerusalem at the passover. It was +the year before my father died, seventeen years ago; it was the same +week on which our Lord was crucified. My father was then an aged +man—fourscore and five years old. Our tent was pitched on the slope +of the Mount of Olives, near the Bethany road. While we sat there one +morning, a great noise of shouting was heard, and presently we saw one +riding on an ass, followed by a great company, crying 'Hosanna!' As we +drew nearer, we heard them say that it was Jesus of Nazareth; and, +when we saw His face, we knew that it was He, by the wonderful eyes, +though it was the face of a bearded man, and not of an infant, and was +very pale and sad. As He drew near to our tent, the city came full +into His view, with its gilded roofs and marble pinnacles, blazing +under the morning sun. Suddenly He paused in the way, and we heard Him +weeping aloud, though we could not hear His words of lamentation. The +multitude halted, too, when we did; and the cheering ceased, and some +of those who stood nearest Him wept also, though no one seemed to know +what had caused His grief. But soon they went on again, and before +they reached the foot of the hill another multitude met them, coming +forth from the city, and we heard their shouts of 'Hosanna in the +Highest!' as they entered the gate of Jerusalem."</p> + +<p>"What said your father when he saw all this?" queried Joseph.</p> + +<p>"He said but little. There was a shadow on his face, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span>yet he spoke +cheerfully. 'I cannot understand it,' he murmured. 'They are trying to +make Him King of the Jews; but King He will not be, at least not in +their fashion. Yet in some way I know He will be Prince and Deliverer. +I cannot understand, I will wait.'"</p> + +<p>"Were you not in Jerusalem when He was put to death?"</p> + +<p>"No. My father was frail and ill and we had hastened home to +Bethlehem. News of His death on the cross had only just reached us +when another messenger came to tell us that the sepulcher in which He +had been laid was empty; that He had risen from the dead.</p> + +<p>"My father's eyes kindled when he heard this message. He cast aside +his staff and stood firm on his feet. His voice, when he spoke, rang +out like a trumpet. 'Blessed be the Lord God of Israel!' he cried. It +is thus that He redeemeth His people. This Jesus is not to be the +Captain of our armies, but the Savior of our souls. His kingdom is the +kingdom of righteousness, and therefore it is that the prophet hath +said: "Of the increase of His government and peace there shall be no +end."</p> + +<p>"Always after that, words of the prophet concerning the Messiah kept +coming back to my father; and once and again he cried out: 'Truly, +this Jesus was the Son of God, the true King of Israel!' As the months +wore on, his words were more and more of the crucified and risen Lord, +and he dwelt in a great peace. At length, when the flocks were led +forth to the midwinter pasturage, he begged to go with me. It was on +this very day that we came, the same day of the year on which the Lord +was born. He was feeble and tottered as he <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span>walked; but he leaned on +my arm and we came slowly. In the evening he said: 'Let me go, my son, +and sit once more under the great rock.' I wrapped him in my coat of +skins, and sat here where I sit now and where he was sitting when the +angel came. We talked here long, under the stars, that night, of Him +whom we had learned to love as Master and Lord, of the works that He +had done and the words that He had spoken, as His disciples had told +of them. We had been silent for a few moments, when I looked up, and +saw that his head had fallen backward against the rock wall. I sprang +to him. His eyes were shut, but his lips were moving. I put my ear to +his mouth, and heard him say only: 'Peace—on—earth—good +will'—they were his last words. He had gone beyond our starlight, +into the country where the light always shines—the glory that fell +that night, fifty years ago, upon these hills of Bethlehem."</p> + +<p>Stephanus was silent and Joseph's eyes were full of tears. At length +the old man rose.</p> + +<p>"Come, my son," he said. "Cesil is in the south; it is midnight; let +us call your father and his brother. The old man and the boy have kept +their watch, and it is now time for rest."</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5" id="Footnote_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5"><span class="label">*</span></a> Used by permission of the Author.</p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span></p> +<h3>THE STORY OF CHRISTMAS<a name="FNanchor_6" id="FNanchor_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6" class="fnanchor">*</a></h3> + +<h4><span class="smcap">Nora A. Smith</span></h4> + +<p class="center" style="margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%;"> +"A great spiritual efficiency lies in story-telling".—<i>Froebel.</i></p> + + +<p>Christmas Day, you know, dear children, is Christ's day, Christ's +birthday, and I want to tell you why we love it so much, and why we +try to make every one happy when it comes each year.</p> + +<p>A long, long time ago—more than eighteen hundred years—the baby +Christ was born on Christmas Day; a baby so wonderful and so +beautiful, who grew up to be a man so wise, so good, so patient and +sweet that, every year, the people who know about Him love Him better +and better, and are more and more glad when His birthday comes again. +You see that He must have been very good and wonderful; for people +have always remembered His birthday, and kept it lovingly for eighteen +hundred years.</p> + +<p>He was born, long years ago, in a land far, far away across the seas.</p> + +<p>Before the baby Christ was born, Mary, His mother, had to make a long +journey with her husband, Joseph. They made this journey to be taxed +or counted; for in those days this could not be done in the town where +people happened to live, but they must be numbered in the place where +they were born.</p> + +<p>In that far-off time the only way of traveling was on a horse, or a +camel, or a good, patient donkey. Camels and horses cost a great deal +of money, and Mary was <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span>very poor; so she rode on a quiet, safe +donkey, while Joseph walked by her side, leading him and leaning on +his stick. Mary was very young, and beautiful, I think, but Joseph was +a great deal older than she.</p> + +<p>People dress nowadays, in those distant countries, just as they did so +many years ago, so we know that Mary must have worn a long, thick +dress, falling all about her in heavy folds, and that she had a soft +white veil over her head and neck, and across her face. Mary lived in +Nazareth, and the journey they were making was to Bethlehem, many +miles away.</p> + +<p>They were a long time traveling, I am sure; for donkeys are slow, +though they are so careful, and Mary must have been very tired before +they came to the end of their journey.</p> + +<p>They had traveled all day, and it was almost dark when they came near +to Bethlehem, to the town where the baby Christ was to be born. There +was the place they were to stay,—a kind of inn, or lodging-house, but +not at all like those you know about.</p> + +<p>They have them today in that far-off country, just as they built them +so many years ago.</p> + +<p>It was a low, flat-roofed, stone building, with no windows and only +one large door. There were no nicely furnished bed rooms inside, and +no soft white beds for the tired travelers; there were only little +places built into the stones of the wall, something like the berths on +steamboats nowadays, and each traveler brought his own bedding. No +pretty garden was in front of the inn, for the road ran close to the +very door, so that its dust lay upon the doorsill. All around the +house, to a high, rocky hill <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span>at the back, a heavy stone fence was +built, so that the people and the animals inside might be kept safe.</p> + +<p>Mary and Joseph could not get very near the inn; for the whole road in +front was filled with camels and donkeys and sheep and cows, while a +great many men were going to and fro, taking care of the animals. Some +of these people had come to Bethlehem to pay their taxes, as Mary and +Joseph had done, and others were staying for the night on their way to +Jerusalem, a large city a little further on.</p> + +<p>The yard was filled, too, with camels and sheep; and men were lying on +the ground beside them, resting and watching and keeping them safe. +The inn was so full and the yard was so full of people that there was +no room for anybody else, and the keeper had to take Joseph and Mary +through the house and back to the high hill, where they found another +place that was used for a stable. This had only a door and front, and +deep caves were behind, stretching far into the rocks.</p> + +<p>This was the spot where Christ was born. Think how poor a place!—but +Mary was glad to be there, after all; and when the Christ-child came, +He was like other babies, and had so lately come from heaven that He +was happy everywhere.</p> + +<p>There were mangers all around the cave, where the cattle and sheep +were fed, and great heaps of hay and straw were lying on the floor. +Then, I think, there were brown-eyed cows and oxen there, and quiet, +woolly sheep, and perhaps even some dogs that had come in to take care +of the sheep.</p> + +<p>And there in the cave, by and by, the wonderful baby <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span>came, and they +wrapped Him up and laid Him in a manger.</p> + +<p>All the stars in the sky shone brightly that night, for they knew the +Christ-child was born, and the angels in heaven sang together for joy. +The angels knew about the lovely child, and were glad that He had come +to help the people on earth to be good.</p> + +<p>There lay the beautiful baby, with a manger for His bed, and oxen and +sheep all sleeping quietly round Him. His mother watched Him and loved +Him, and by and by many people came to see Him, for they had heard +that a wonderful child was to be born in Bethlehem. All the people in +the inn visited Him, and even the shepherds left their flocks in the +fields and sought the child and His mother.</p> + +<p>But the baby was very tiny, and could not talk any more than any other +tiny child, so He lay in His mother's lap, or in the manger, and only +looked at the people. So after they had seen Him and loved Him, they +went away again.</p> + +<p>After a time, when the baby had grown larger, Mary took Him back to +Nazareth, and there He lived and grew up.</p> + +<p>And He grew to be such a sweet, wise, loving boy, such a tender, +helpful man, and He said so many good and beautiful things, that +everyone who knew Him, loved Him. Many of the things He said are in +the Bible, you know, and a great many beautiful stories of the things +He used to do while He was on earth.</p> + +<p>He loved little children like you very much, and often used to take +them up in His arms and talk to them.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span>And this is the reason we love Christmas Day so much, and try to make +everybody happy when it comes around each year. This is the reason; +because Christ, who was born on Christmas Day, has helped us all to be +good so many, many times, and because He was the best Christmas +present the world ever had!</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6" id="Footnote_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6"><span class="label">*</span></a> From "The Story Hour," by Kate Douglas Wiggins and Nora +A. Smith. Used by permission of the authors and also of the +publishers—Houghton, Mifflin and Company.</p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span></p> +<h3>THE LEGEND OF THE CHRISTMAS TREE<a name="FNanchor_7" id="FNanchor_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7" class="fnanchor">*</a></h3> + +<h4><span class="smcap">By Lucy Wheelock</span></h4> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span>Two little children were sitting by the fire one cold winter's night. +All at once they heard a timid knock at the door, and one ran to open +it.</p> + +<p>There, outside in the cold and the darkness, stood a child with no +shoes upon his feet and clad in thin, ragged garments. He was +shivering with cold, and he asked to come in and warm himself.</p> + +<p>"Yes, come," cried both the children; "you shall have our place by the +fire. Come in!"</p> + +<p>They drew the little stranger to their warm seat and shared their +supper with him, and gave him their bed, while they slept on a hard +bench.</p> + +<p>In the night they were awakened by strains of sweet music and, looking +out, they saw a band of children in shining garments approaching the +house. They were playing on golden harps, and the air was full of +melody.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the Stranger Child stood before them; no longer cold and +ragged, but clad in silvery light.</p> + +<p>His soft voice said: "I was cold and you took Me in. I was hungry, and +you fed Me. I was tired, and you gave Me your bed. I am the Christ +Child, wandering through the world to bring peace and happiness to all +good children. As you have given to Me, so may this tree every year +give rich fruit to you."</p> + +<p>So saying, He broke a branch from the fir tree that grew near the +door, and He planted it in the ground and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span>disappeared. But the branch +grew into a great tree, and every year it bore wonderful golden fruit +for the kind children.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_7" id="Footnote_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7"><span class="label">*</span></a> From "For the Children's Hour," by Bailey and Lewis. Used +by permission of the authors and the publishers—Milton Bradley +Company.</p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span></p> +<h3>LITTLE JEAN<a name="FNanchor_8" id="FNanchor_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8" class="fnanchor">*</a></h3> + +<h4><span class="smcap">A Christmas Story</span></h4> + + +<p>Long ago, and far from here, in a country with a name too hard to +pronounce, there lived a little boy named Jean. In many ways, he was +just like the boys here, for there are many Johns over here, are there +not? Then too, Jean lived with his auntie, and some of our boys do +that too. His father and mother were dead, and that is true here +sometimes, isn't it? But in some ways things were quite different with +Jean. In the first place his auntie was very, very cross, and she +often made him climb up his ladder to his little garret room to go to +sleep on his pallet of straw, without any supper, save a dry crust. +His stockings had holes in the heels, and toes and knees, because his +auntie never had time to mend them, and his shoes would have been worn +out all the time if they had not been such strong wooden shoes—for in +that country the boys all wore wooden shoes. Jean did many a little +service around the place, for his auntie made him work for his daily +bread, and he chopped the wood and swept the paths and made the fires +and ran the errands, but he never heard anyone say "Thank you."</p> + +<p>Jean's happiest days were at school, and I wonder if he was like our +boys in that? There his playmates wore much better clothes and good +stockings too, and warm top coats, but they never thought of making +fun of Jean, for they all loved to play with him. One morning Jean +started off to school (which was next to the big church), <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span>and when he +got there he found the children all so happy and gay and dressed in +their best clothes, and he heard one boy say, "Won't it be jolly +tomorrow with the big tree full of oranges and popcorn and candy, and +the candles burning?" And another added, "Won't it be fun to see the +things in our shoes in the morning, the goodies that boys love?" And +another said, "My, but we have a big, fat goose at our house, stuffed +with plums and just brown to a turn," and he smacked his lips as he +thought of it. And Jean began to wonder about that beautiful tree and +wish that one would grow at his house. And he thought about his wooden +shoes and knew there would be no goodies in them for him in the +morning. Then he heard one boy say, "Don't you love Christmas?" And +Jean said, "Christmas! why, what is Christmas?" But just then the +teacher came in and said, "Boys, come into the church now and hear the +music." And so the boys marched one behind the other just as they do +in school here, and they went into the great church. Jean thought it +was beautiful in there! The soft light, the warm pleasant air, the +flowers, and the marble altar, and then the music! Oh, such music Jean +had never heard, and somehow as he sat on the high-backed bench and +listened, his own heart grew very warm although he could not +understand why, and he loved so to hear them singing: "Peace on earth, +good will to men." And it began to sing itself over and over in his +heart, this sweet, sweet song of "Peace on earth, good will to men." +Then the time came to go home, and the boys all shouted, "Good-bye, +Jean! and Merry Christmas!" And though Jean didn't know about "Merry +Christmas," he kept singing in his little <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span>warmed heart, "Peace on +earth, good will to men," and then he was glad the other boys could +have the tree and the goose and the wooden shoes full of goodies even +if he couldn't.</p> + +<p>As Jean went home the snow began to fall and the big flakes lodged on +his shoulders and cap and hands, but he didn't mind the cold for his +heart was so warm. By and by as he ran down the street he passed a +tall house with the steps going up from the street, and there sitting +on the bottom step he saw a little boy with soft curling hair and a +beautiful face, leaning his head against the stone house, fast asleep. +Somehow as Jean looked at the sleeping face, his own heart grew still +and quiet and warm, and he felt like he could look at it forever, and +suddenly he caught himself singing softly under his breath, "Peace on +earth, good will to men." And then he looked down at the little boy's +feet and he saw that he was barefooted and his little feet were purple +with the cold. As Jean looked at the feet, and then at the face of the +child, and thought of the sweet song in his heart, he said, "Oh! I +wish I could give him my shoes, for I have stockings to keep me warm, +but auntie would be so mad! And the more he looked and thought, the +more he longed to give his shoes away, until all at once he said, "I +know what I'll do, I'll give him one shoe and one stocking and then he +won't be so cold," and he felt as though he couldn't get his shoe and +stocking off fast enough to give them to the little child. So gently +and tenderly he lifted the little cold foot in his hand to put on the +shoe that he did not waken the sleeping boy, even when he had put the +stocking on the other foot, and then <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span>as he stood up again and took a +last look at the lovely face, before he knew it he was singing aloud, +"Peace on earth, good will to men." Then he hopped off home in the +snow with the happiest heart he had ever had.</p> + +<p>Now, I wish the story turned out differently and that his auntie said +when he told her about it, "I'm so glad you did it, Jean." But she was +so very cross, that she slapped Jean and sent him off to bed without +any supper, saying, "You had no right to give away that shoe and +stocking for my money paid for them!" Somehow Jean didn't mind doing +without supper that night and he soon went fast asleep and dreamed a +beautiful dream, for he thought he was still singing "Peace on earth, +good will to men!" And he saw a vision of the little sleeping boy, +that grew into a tall and gentle man with a radiant face who walked to +and fro in Jean's dream, singing with him "Peace on earth, good will +to men!" Then morning came and outside his window, Jean heard the +voices of children singing, "Glory to God in the highest, on earth +peace, good will to men!" And he heard a very strange sound too, for +his auntie's voice, soft and gentle, said, "Jean, wake up, and come +down and see what has happened," and Jean came down the ladder and lo! +there was a wonderful tree just like the other boys were having today, +and a goose, and by the fireplace his own wooden shoe, and beside it +the mate that he had given to the sleeping child, and far in the +distance Jean heard the children's voices singing as they ran down the +street, "Peace, peace on earth, good will to men!" Then the room grew +very still and peaceful and Jean's heart did too—and through the +silence there came a voice so tender <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span>and loving—so gentle that the +auntie's eyes were full of tears, and Jean wanted to listen forever, +and the voice said, "Jean, inasmuch as ye did it unto one of the least +of these, my brethren, ye did it unto ME."</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_8" id="Footnote_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8"><span class="label">*</span></a> Adapted from the French of Francois Coppee, by +Nannie-Lee-Frayser.</p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span></p> +<h3>HOW THE FIR TREE BECAME THE CHRISTMAS TREE<a name="FNanchor_9" id="FNanchor_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9" class="fnanchor">*</a></h3> + +<h4><span class="smcap">By Aunt Hede</span>, in "Kindergarten Magazine"</h4> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span>This is the story of how the fir tree became the Christmas tree.</p> + +<p>At the time when the Christ Child was born all the people, the +animals, and the trees, and plants were very happy. The Child was born +to bring peace and happiness to the whole world. People came daily to +see the little One, and they always brought gifts with them.</p> + +<p>There were three trees standing near the crypt which saw the people, +and they wished that they, too, might give presents to the Christ +Child.</p> + +<p>The Palm said: "I will choose my most beautiful leaf, and place it as +a fan over the Child."</p> + +<p>"And I," said the Olive, "will sprinkle sweet-smelling oil upon His +head."</p> + +<p>"What can I give to the Child?" asked the Fir, who stood near.</p> + +<p>"You!" cried the others. "You have nothing to offer Him. Your needles +would prick Him, and your tears are sticky."</p> + +<p>So the poor little Fir tree was very unhappy, and it said: "Yes, you +are right. I have nothing to offer the Christ Child."</p> + +<p>Now, quite near the trees stood the Christmas Angel, who had heard all +that the trees had said. The Angel was sorry for the Fir tree who was +so lowly and without envy of the other trees. So, when it was dark, +and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span>the stars came out, he begged a few of the little stars to come +down and rest upon the branches of the Fir tree. They did as the +Christmas Angel asked, and the Fir tree shone suddenly with a +beautiful light.</p> + +<p>And, at that very moment, the Christ Child opened His eyes—for He had +been asleep—and as the lovely light fell upon Him He smiled.</p> + +<p>Every year people keep the dear Christmas Child's birthday by giving +gifts to each other, and every year, in remembrance of His first +birthday, the Christmas Angel places in every house a fir tree, also. +Covered with starry candles it shines for the children as the stars +shone for the Christ Child. The Fir tree was rewarded for its +meekness, for to no other tree is it given to shine upon so many happy +faces.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_9" id="Footnote_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9"><span class="label">*</span></a> From "For the Children's Hour," by Bailey and Lewis. Used +by permission of the authors and also the publishers—Milton Bradley +Company.</p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span></p> +<h3>THE MAGI IN THE WEST AND THEIR SEARCH FOR THE CHRIST<a name="FNanchor_10" id="FNanchor_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_10" class="fnanchor">*</a></h3> + +<h4><span class="smcap">A Tale for the Christmas-Tide</span></h4> + +<h4><span class="smcap">By Frederick E. Dewhurst</span></h4> + + + +<div class="sidenote">The Mountain of Vision</div> + +<p>Now, it happened a long time ago, in the year ——, but the exact year +does not matter, because you will not find this story written in the +history of any of the nations of the world. But in one of the +countries of Europe bordering on the Mediterranean Sea was a lofty +mountain, which, to the dwellers in the plains below, seemed to reach +to the very sky. At times its summit was covered with clouds, so that +it could not be seen; at other times it stood out fair and clear, as +though silently asking the people to look up and not down. The lower +slopes of the mountain were covered with olive trees, with groves of +oranges and lemons, and with vineyards, and they were dotted here and +there with the little white cottages of the peasants who made their +living from these groves and vineyards, the fruit of which they sold +in the city not far away.</p> + +<div class="sidenote">Sunset in the Sea</div> + +<p>Along the mountain-side wound a foot-trail even to the summit, and +nowhere, in all the region, was there a finer view of the +Mediterranean than from the summit of this mountain. In the long +summer afternoons the peasants and children would climb to the top and +look off on the lovely picture of land <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span>and sea. Then they would eat +their simple lunch of bread and dates and olives and quench their +thirst from the spring on the mountain-side, which they called +"Dew-of-heaven," so clear and fresh and sparkling was it; and when the +sun began to touch the western sky with his pencils of gold and +carmine and purple, they hastened down, that they might reach their +cottages before the night shut in.</p> + +<div class="sidenote">A Stranger Cometh</div> + +<p>On the day when this story begins a man was standing on the summit of +the mountain looking across the sea in the direction where you will +find Tyre and Joppa on the map. He was, very plainly, not one of the +peasants who lived on the mountain-side. He looked about sixty years +of age; he was tall and erect, though he carried a staff in his hand. +His hair and beard were long and flowing, and almost gray, but his eye +was clear and penetrating, and he was looking across the sea as though +he expected some one to appear.</p> + +<p>And while he stood there gazing seaward, there appeared a second man +on the summit, helping himself up with his staff, and panting with the +effort of the long climb. From his dress and manner it was plain that +this man, too, was not one of the peasants, for, like the first comer, +he seemed to belong to another age and clime. The two men glanced at +each other and gave such greeting as strangers might who should meet +in so solitary a spot as a mountain summit. Then both lapsed into +silence and looked off across the sea.</p> + +<div class="sidenote">And Findeth a Friend</div> + +<p>Presently the last comer seemed to awake from his reverie. He walked +over to the place where the other man <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span>was sitting, still gazing off +toward Joppa, and touched him on the shoulder: "A thousand pardons, my +friend," he said, "but my mind is haunted with some far-off +recollection, as though in some other land and some far-off time I had +seen thy face. Wilt thou have the kindness to tell me thy name?"</p> + +<p>Without lifting his eyes from the sea, and in a tone which seemed +regretful and sad, the stranger replied: "My name is Gaspard."</p> + +<div class="sidenote">A Far-off Pilgrimage Recalled</div> + +<p>"Gaspard! Indeed, then have I seen thee! Look at me, my friend; dost +thou not remember me? My name is Melchoir. Dost thou not recall that +time, how long I know not, when thou and I and Balthazar followed a +star which led us to a little Jewish hamlet, thou bearing gold and I +frankincense, and Balthazar myrrh? Dost thou not remember how, on the +long journey thither, we talked about the young Prince, whom we +expected to find in a royal palace, and how at last when we reached +the village, following the star, we were led not to a palace but to a +little inn, and not even to a room within the inn, but to the +stable-yard, where we found a sweet-faced woman bending over a babe +cradled in a manger; and standing near, a sturdy peasant, proud and +happy, whose name was Joseph? Dost thou not remember, too, that when +we had recovered from our surprise, we left our gifts and greetings, +and went our way as men who had been dreaming? Gaspard, dost thou not +remember?"</p> + +<div class="sidenote">And Wanderings in Many Lands</div> + +<p>And Gaspard, looking now intently in the other's face, replied: "Yes, +Melchoir, I remember thee, and I <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span>remember the journey of which thou +hast spoken better than I remember aught else. Neither have I +forgotten the surprise and disappointment with which we came to the +place whither the star led us; nor how, after leaving our gifts, we +went away as in a dream; and, Melchoir, I have been dreaming ever +since. Even here hast thou found me in a dream of perplexity. I am +still Gaspard, the wandering magician; for how many years I know not, +I have wandered up and down these lands of Europe. I have crossed the +seas; in every place I have sought to find the kingdom over which we +were told this young prince was one day to reign. Dost thou not +remember that we were told His kingdom was to last forever, that He +would reign in it himself forever and would never die? Alas! I have +lost the old power of the magician's art. I can summon no star to +guide me to the place where I shall find this kingdom and its king."</p> + +<div class="sidenote">If Only Balthazar Were Here</div> + +<p>"Truly, Gaspard," answered Melchoir, "the story of your wanderings is +but the repetition of my own; and even now was I drawn to this +mountain summit on the self-same errand that brought you here,—to see +if I could not discover in the direction of yonder land, where +Bethlehem was, some star which might prove to be His star, and which +might guide me in the new quest. If only our old companion, Balthazar, +were with us now, he might give us the clew to our search, for not +only was he more skilful in the magician's art, but he was braver and +more courageous, and withal more serene in spirit."</p> + +<div class="sidenote">A Song in the Air</div> + +<p>Now, even while Melchoir was speaking, a voice was <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span>heard a little way +down the mountain. Gaspard and Melchoir stopped to listen. The voice +was singing, and the words of the song floated up to them distinctly:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If the sun has hid its light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If the day has turned to night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If the heavens are not benign,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If the stars refuse to shine—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Heart of man lose not thy hope;<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Door, there's none that shall not ope;<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Path, there's none that shall not clear;<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Heart of man! why shouldst thou fear?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If for years should be thy quest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If for years thou hast no rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If thou circlest earth and sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If thou worn and weary be—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Heart of man, lose not thy hope;<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Door, there's none that shall not ope;<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Path, there's none that shall not clear;<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Heart of man! why shouldst thou fear?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="sidenote">Balthazar Cometh</div> + +<p>"That," exclaimed Gaspard and Melchoir together, "is the voice of +Balthazar," and they hastened to meet him, for he was now almost at +the summit, and the refrain of his song was still upon his lips. At +that moment Balthazar sprang up from the sloping path into full view +of the two men, and, giving each a hand, exclaimed: "Gaspard, +Melchoir, beloved companions, I have found you at last. The peasants +be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span>low were not mistaken. From their description, I was certain I +should find you here. And you, too, have been searching these long +years for the kingdom of the Christ! and, like me, you have met with +disappointment; but, comrades, be not of faint heart:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Door, there's none that shall not ope;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Path, there's none that shall not clear.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Let us hasten down the mountain, for see! the sky is already growing +gold and crimson beyond the pillars of Hercules. Let us seek the +wayfarer's lodging with the hospitable peasants in the valley, and +tomorrow let us begin our search for the Christ anew. We have wandered +alone; let us invoke now the star to guide us together."</p> + +<div class="sidenote">Forget Not Hospitality</div> + +<p>That night, therefore, the three strangers lodged with the simple +peasant people in the valley, partaking with thankfulness of the +coarse bread, the dates and the red wine—the common fare of their +daily life. Nor did they fail to notice a motto inscribed above the +fireplace in rude Greek letters:</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>On the morrow they were ready to begin their search together for the +Christ, and they hoped not to wander far before they should find at +least the outskirts of His kingdom. But whither should they go? In +what direction should they first turn their steps?</p> + +<div class="sidenote">Once More a Star</div> + +<p>While they were thus wondering and debating, Bal<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span>thazar suddenly +exclaimed: "I see the star!" And behold, a little way before them, and +at no great distance above their heads, they discerned in the gray of +the early morning a star of pale, opal light, which seemed to move +forward as the men moved toward it.</p> + +<p>"We must follow the star!" Balthazar said in a whisper. Silently and +breathlessly his companions followed on.</p> + +<p>Now, so intently did the three men keep their eyes fixed upon the +star, and so eagerly did they follow in the direction where it seemed +to lead, that it was only after a considerable time they discovered +that they had become separated from each other, and that their paths +were getting farther and farther apart. Yet, there before each of them +was the star, shining with its soft, opalescent light, and still +ringing in their ears were the words of Balthazar—"we must follow the +star."</p> + +<div class="sidenote">The Star Stands Still</div> + +<p>So each followed the star, each by himself alone. Gaspard's path wound +along near the shore of the gulfs and bays of the Mediterranean, until +at last the the star turned southward and drew him nearer and nearer +to a great city, and finally stood still over the dome of a vast +cathedral. "It must be," thought Gaspard, "that I have come to the end +of my search. This must be the capital and palace of the eternal +king."</p> + +<div class="sidenote">Marbled Aisle's Magnificence</div> + +<p>The square in front of the cathedral was thronged with people; +multitudes were pouring in through the great portals. Gaspard joined +the throngs, and at last found himself under the mighty dome, which +seemed to him as far away as the sky it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span>self. Everything in this +wonderful place appealed to his imagination. There were great rows of +massive columns, symbol of a strength eternal, and they seemed like +wide-open arms holding out a welcome to the human race. There were +statues and paintings by great masters in art. The light of the sun +poured in through many-colored windows, on which were blazoned the +deeds of heroes and saints. Strains of music from the great organ in +the distance floated out upon the air. Touched and thrilled by all he +saw, Gaspard exclaimed to himself: "The place on which I stand is holy +ground."</p> + +<div class="sidenote">Kyrie Eleison</div> + +<p>Soon, however, he perceived that the throngs of people were not +lingering, like himself, in awe and wonder over the great columns and +the dome, and the statues, and the paintings, and the windows. Their +eyes were fixed intently upon something that was going on in the far +end of the cathedral. An altar was there, and priests in white robes +passing up and down before it, and tall tapers burning around it. Near +the altar was the image of a man hanging from a cross; his hands and +feet were pierced with nails, and a cruel wound was in his side. The +people were gazing at this altar, and at the image, and at what the +white-robed priests were doing. The strains of solemn music from the +organ blended with the voices of priests chanting the service. Clouds +of incense rose from censers, swung with solemn motion by the +altar-boys, and the fragrance of the incense was wafted down the long +aisles. At last, the tinkling of a bell. The organ became silent for +an instant, as though it felt within its heart the awful sol<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span>emnity of +the moment; and then it burst forth into new rapture, and the people +began pouring out through the great doors.</p> + +<div class="sidenote">We Must Follow the Star</div> + +<p>Gaspard went forth with the throng into the cathedral square. "And +this," he said, "is the end of my search. I have found the Christ. His +kingdom is in the imagination of man. How beautiful, how wonderful, +how strange it was! 'Dominus vobiscum,' did not the priests say? Here, +then, at last I have found the city of the great King."</p> + +<p>But as he lingered, behold! the star which had stood over the dome of +the cathedral was now before him, as at first, and seemed to waver and +tremble, as if beckoning him on. So, although his feet seemed bound to +the spot, and his heart was still throbbing with the deep feelings the +cathedral service had created in him, remembering the words of +Balthazar, "we must follow the star," he slowly and reluctantly walked +on.</p> + +<div class="sidenote">The Just Shall Live by Faith</div> + +<p>In the meantime Melchoir also had followed faithfully the path along +which the star seemed to lead. Through forests in which he almost lost +his way, across rivers difficult and dangerous to ford—still he +followed on. At length Melchoir's star seemed to tarry over the spire +of a gothic church, into which the people were going in throngs. +Waiting a moment, to be sure that the star was actually standing +still, Melchoir went in with the rest. In this place was no altar, +such as Gaspard saw; no image on the cross; no white-robed priests; no +swinging censers. But, as Melchoir entered he heard strains from the +organ, and a chorus of voices was singing an anthem <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span>beginning with +the words, "Te Deum Laudamus." And when the anthem came to a close, a +man clothed in a black robe, such as scholars were wont to wear, rose +in his place upon a platform elevated above the people, and began to +speak to them about the kingdom of Christ. Melchoir listened in eager +expectancy. <span class="sidenote">The Truth Shall Make You Free</span> +"The kingdom of the Christ," the preacher said, "is the +kingdom of the truth, and the truth is to be continued and kept alive +by the strength of man's belief. Those things which have been handed +down by holy men and sacred oracles since Christ was here upon the +earth, are the truths by which we live. How can Christ live except He +live in our beliefs? Why did the Father of all intrust us with our +reasons, unless it were that we should make them the instruments of +our faith and our salvation? Let us therefore stand in our places, +while we recite together the articles of our holy faith."</p> + +<p>These and many such words did the scholar-preacher declare. And as he +sat there with the people, Melchoir felt the weight of the solemn and +earnest words, and he said: "So at last have I come to the end of my +search. The kingdom of Christ is in the mind of man. His kingdom is +the kingdom of the truth."</p> + +<div class="sidenote">More Light Shall Break Forth</div> + +<p>Then he followed the throngs as they went forth from the church; but +the star which had tarried over the lofty spire was now before him, +and the opal light wavered and trembled, as if beckoning him on; and +the words of the preacher, "we must believe," seemed to blend with the +words <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span>of Balthazar, "we must follow the star." So, reluctantly and +slowly he followed on.</p> + +<div class="sidenote">Thy Sacramental Liturgies</div> + +<p>But Balthazar—whither went he, following the star? Over many a rugged +way, through many a tangled thicket, through valleys and over hills. +His star tarried over no cathedrals; it lingered over no Gothic +spires. It seemed capricious and restless and tireless. At times it +seemed intent on coming to a pause over the head of some human being, +but perhaps it was because these human beings themselves were so +restless and so busy that the star could not accomplish its intent. +For Balthazar saw these men and women hurrying hither and thither on +errands of mercy, or deeds of justice; he saw them ferreting out great +wrongs, laying heavy blows on the backs of men who oppressed and +defrauded their fellow men.</p> + +<p>At length Balthazar seemed to understand the movements of the star, +and, drawing nearer, he would seem to hear these men repeating +cheering and encouraging words to one another. "Pure religion and +undefiled," he heard one exclaiming, "is to visit the fatherless and +widows in their affliction, and to keep himself unspotted from the +world." And another echoed, "Inasmuch as we do it to the least of +these, we do it unto Christ."</p> + +<div class="sidenote">The Joy of Doing Good</div> + +<p>"Ah! thought Balthazar as he listened, I see the meaning of it now; I +am coming to the end of my search. The kingdom of Christ—I have found +it. It is in the deeds of men; it is in the conscience and the serving +will. Devotion to right, this is the law of the kingdom of Christ."</p> + +<p>Then Balthazar turned to go in search of his com<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span>rades again; but +behold! the opal star was trembling, as if beckoning him on. So, still +doubting if he had reached the end of his search, he followed the +star.</p> + +<div class="sidenote">The Paths Converge</div> + +<p>Thus Gaspard, Melchoir and Balthazar, each following the star, at last +approached each other. The star of each seemed to melt and blend into +the star of the others, and the opal light stood at last in the center +of the group. Gaspard exclaimed: "I have found that which we all were +seeking. The kingdom of Christ is in the imagination; Christ lives in +what man feels."</p> + +<p>"Nay," said Melchoir, "I have followed the star, and I have found what +we sought. The kingdom of Christ is in the reason of man. Christ lives +in what man believes."</p> + +<p>"But," cried Balthazar, "my star has led me to a different end. The +kingdom of Christ is in the will of man. Christ lives in what man +does."</p> + +<p>"The truth," once more exclaimed Melchoir, "is the law of the +kingdom."</p> + +<p>"Not truth," declared Balthazar, "but justice, righteousness, goodness +and purity—these are its laws and its marks."</p> + +<p>"Nay, comrades beloved, hearken to me," answered Gaspard, "it is the +miracle of the divine presence. It is God among men, realized in the +holy mass. I beheld it all in yonder cathedral."</p> + +<p>But lo! once more the star began to tremble and to change its place.</p> + +<p>"Let us follow the star!" Balthazar whispered. "We will follow it," +echoed the other two.</p> + +<div class="sidenote">Once More the Quest</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> +Then the star led them on, and they followed together until they came +at length to the doorway of a little cottage; and within the cottage +they saw a woman bending over a cradle, and in the cradle a little +child lay sleeping. She was a peasant woman; her clothing was not +rich; the furnishing of the cottage was humble and scanty. The cradle +itself was rude, as if put together by hands unskilful in tasks like +that. But when the mother looked at her babe a sweet smile played +about her lips, and a light was in her eyes. Then all suddenly the +three men remembered another scene long before, when they were bearers +of gold and frankincense and myrrh to another babe.</p> + +<div class="sidenote">He That Loveth Knoweth God</div> + +<p>And while they stood and wondered by the door, there came a strong and +sturdy peasant, broad-shouldered, roughly clad, his face browned in +the sun, his hands hardened with toil. He came and stood beside the +woman, and they bent together over the cradle of the sleeping child, +and the man drew the woman tenderly toward him and kissed her brow.</p> + +<p>And still the three men lingered; for behold! the star stood still +above the child, and they dared not speak. But the heart of Gaspard +was saying in silence, "There is something greater than the repeated +miracle of the mass."</p> + +<p>And Melchoir was thinking, "There is something mightier even than the +mind; something superior to naked truth."</p> + +<div class="sidenote">For God Is Love</div> + +<p>And Balthazar was confessing to himself that he had found something +more potent even than the righteous <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span>deed. For here they all beheld +how life was made sweet and blessed and holy by the power of love; and +by love for a little child, in whom was all weakness and helplessness, +whose only voice was a cry, but who was all strong and mighty with the +power of God, because he could transform roughness into tenderness, +and selfishness into loving care, and poverty itself into gifts of +gold and fragrant myrrh.</p> + +<p>"Truly, my comrades," Balthazar said, "love is the greatest of all."</p> + +<p>"And now I understand," said Gaspard, "how the weak things of the +world can confound the mighty."</p> + +<p>"And I," added Melchoir, "see what it means for God to come to earth +in the form of a little child."</p> + +<p>And so they turned away, and the radiance of the star was round about +them, and they were saying to each other: "Our search at last is +ended."</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_10" id="Footnote_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10"><span class="label">*</span></a> Reprinted with the permission of "The Sketching Club," +Indianapolis, Ind.</p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span></p> +<h3>LITTLE GRETCHEN AND THE WOODEN SHOE<a name="FNanchor_11" id="FNanchor_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_11" class="fnanchor">*</a></h3> + +<h4><span class="smcap">By Elizabeth Harrison</span></h4> + + +<p>Once upon a time, a long time ago, far away across the great ocean, in +a country called Germany, there could be seen a small log hut on the +edge of a great forest, whose fir trees extended for miles and miles +to the north. This little house, made of heavy hewn logs, had but one +room in it. A rough pine door gave entrance to this room, and a small +square window admitted the light. At the back of the house was built +an old-fashioned stone chimney, out of which in winter curled a thin, +blue smoke, showing that there was not very much fire within.</p> + +<p>Small as the house was, it was large enough for two people who lived +in it. I want to tell you a story today about these two people. One +was an old gray-haired woman, so old that the little children of the +village, nearly half a mile away, often wondered whether she had come +into the world with the huge mountains and the giant fir trees, which +stood like giants back of her small hut. Her face was wrinkled all +over with deep lines, which, if the children could only have read +aright, would have told them of many years of cheerful, happy, +self-sacrifice; of loving, anxious, watching beside sick-beds; of +quiet endurance of pain, of many a day of hunger and cold, and of a +thousand deeds of unselfish love for other people; but, of course, +they could not read this strange handwriting. They only knew that she +was old and wrinkled, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span>and that she stooped as she walked. None of +them seemed to fear her, for her smile was always cheerful, and she +had a kindly word for each of them if they chanced to meet her on her +way to and from the village. With this old, old woman lived a very +little girl. So bright and happy was she that the travellers who +passed by the lonesome little house on the edge of the forest often +thought of a sunbeam as they saw her. These two people were known in +the village as Granny Goodyear and Little Gretchen.</p> + +<p>The winter had come and the frost had snapped off many of the smaller +branches of the pine trees in the forest. Gretchen and her granny were +up by daybreak each morning. After their simple breakfast of oatmeal, +Gretchen would run to the little closet and fetch Granny's old woolen +shawl, which seemed almost as old as Granny herself. Gretchen always +claimed the right to put the shawl over Granny's head, even though she +had to climb onto the wooden bench to do it. After carefully pinning +it under Granny's chin, she gave her a good-bye kiss, and Granny +started out for her morning's work in the forest. This work was +nothing more nor less than the gathering up of the twigs and branches +which the autumn winds and winter frosts had thrown upon the ground. +These were carefully gathered into a large bundle which Granny tied +together with a strong linen band. She then managed to lift the bundle +to her shoulder and trudged off to the village with it. Here she sold +the fagots for kindling wood to the people of the village. Sometimes +she would get only a few pence each day, and sometimes a dozen or +more, but on this money little Gretchen and she <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span>managed to live; they +had their home, and the forest kindly furnished the wood for the fire +which kept them warm in winter.</p> + +<p>In the summer time Granny had a little garden at the back of the +house, where she raised, with little Gretchen's help, a few potatoes +and turnips and onions. These she carefully stored away for winter +use. To this meagre supply, the pennies, gained by selling the twigs +from the forest, added the oatmeal for Gretchen and a little black +coffee for Granny. Meat was a thing they never thought of having. It +cost too much money. Still, Granny and Gretchen were very happy, +because they loved each other dearly. Sometimes Gretchen would be left +alone all day long in the hut, because Granny would have some work to +do in the village after selling her bundle of sticks and twigs. It was +during these long days that little Gretchen had taught herself to sing +the song which the wind sang to the pine branches. In the summer time +she learned the chirp and twitter of the birds, until her voice might +almost be mistaken for a bird's voice, she learned to dance as the +swaying shadows did, and even to talk to the stars which shone through +the little square window when Granny came home late or too tired to +talk.</p> + +<p>Sometimes, when the weather was fine, or her Granny had an extra +bundle of knitted stockings to take to the village, she would let +little Gretchen go along with her. It chanced that one of these trips +to the town came just the week before Christmas, and Gretchen's eyes +were delighted by the sight of the lovely Christmas trees which stood +in the window of the village store. It seemed to her that she would +never tire of looking at the knit dolls, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span>the woolly lambs, the little +wooden shops with their queer, painted men and women in them, and all +the other fine things. She had never owned a plaything in her whole +life; therefore, toys which you and I would not think much of seemed +to her very beautiful.</p> + +<p>That night, after their supper of baked potatoes was over, and little +Gretchen had cleared away the dishes and swept up the hearth, because +Granny dear was so tired, she brought her own little wooden stool and +placed it very near Granny's feet and sat down upon it, folding her +hands on her lap. Granny knew that this meant that she wanted to be +told about something, so she smilingly laid away the large Bible which +she had been reading, and took up her knitting, which was as much as +to say: "Well, Gretchen, dear, Granny is ready to listen."</p> + +<p>"Granny," said Gretchen slowly, "It's almost Christmas time, isn't +it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, dearie," said Granny, "only five days more now," and then she +sighed, but little Gretchen was so happy that she did not notice +Granny's sigh.</p> + +<p>"What do you think, Granny, I'll get this Christmas?" said she, +looking up eagerly into Granny's face.</p> + +<p>"Ah, child, child," said Granny, shaking her head, "you'll have no +Christmas this year. We are too poor for that."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but Granny," interrupted little Gretchen, "think of all the +beautiful toys we saw in the village today. Surely Santa Claus has +sent enough for every little child."</p> + +<p>"Ah, dearie, those toys are for people who can pay for them, and we +have no money to spend for Christmas toys."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span>"Well, Granny," said Gretchen, "perhaps some of the little children +who live in the great house on the hill at the other end of the +village, will be willing to share some of their toys with me. They +will be glad to give some to a little girl who has none."</p> + +<p>"Dear child, dear child," said Granny, leaning forward and stroking +the soft, shiny hair of the little girl, "your heart is full of love. +You would be glad to bring a Christmas to every child; but their heads +are so full of what they are going to get that they forget all about +anybody else but themselves." Then she sighed and shook her head.</p> + +<p>"Well, Granny," said Gretchen, her bright, happy tone of voice growing +a little less joyous, "perhaps the dear Santa Claus will show some of +the village children how to make presents that do not cost money, and +some of them may surprise me Christmas morning with a present. And, +Granny, dear," added she, springing up from her low stool, "can't I +gather some of the pine branches and take them to the old sick man who +lives in the house by the mill, so that he can have the sweet smell of +our forest in his room all Christmas day?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, dearie," said Granny, "you may do what you can to make the +Christmas bright and happy, but you must not expect any present +yourself."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but, Granny," said little Gretchen, her face brightening, "you +forgot all about the shining Christmas angels, who came down to earth +and sang their wonderful song the night the beautiful Christ-Child was +born! They are so loving and good that <i>they</i> will not forget any +little child. I shall ask my dear stars tonight to tell them of us. +You know," she added, with a look of relief, "the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span>stars are so very +high that they must know the angels quite well as they come and go +with their messages from the loving God."</p> + +<p>Granny sighed as she half whispered. "Poor child, poor child!" but +Gretchen threw her arm around Granny's neck and gave her a hearty +kiss, saying as she did so: "Oh, Granny, Granny, you don't talk to the +stars often enough, else you would not be sad at Christmas time." Then +she danced all around the room, whirling her little skirts about her +to show Granny how the wind had made the snow dance that day. She +looked so droll and funny that Granny forgot her cares and worries and +laughed with little Gretchen over her new snow dance. The days passed +on and the morning before Christmas Eve came. Gretchen having tidied +up the little room—for Granny had taught her to be a careful little +housewife—was off to the forest, singing a birdlike song, almost as +happy and free as the birds themselves. She was very busy that day +preparing a surprise for Granny. First, however, she gathered the most +beautiful of the fir branches within her reach to take the next +morning to the old sick man who lived by the mill.</p> + +<p>The day was all too short for the happy little girl. When Granny came +trudging wearily home that night, she found the frame of the doorway +covered with green pine branches.</p> + +<p>"It is to welcome you, Granny! It is to welcome you!" cried Gretchen; +"our dear old home wanted to give you a Christmas welcome. Don't you +see, the branches of the evergreen make it look as if it were <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span>smiling +all over, and it is trying to say, 'A happy Christmas to you Granny'."</p> + +<p>Granny laughed and kissed the little girl, as they opened the door and +went in together. Here was a new surprise for Granny. The four posts +of the wooden bed, which stood in one corner of the room, had been +trimmed by the busy little fingers, with smaller and more flexible +branches of the pine trees. A small bouquet of red mountain ash +berries stood at each side of the fireplace, and these, together with +the trimmed posts of the bed, gave the plain old room quite a festive +look. Gretchen laughed and clapped her hands and danced about until +the house seemed full of music to poor, tired Granny, whose heart had +been sad as she turned toward their home that night, thinking of the +disappointment that must come to loving little Gretchen the next +morning.</p> + +<p>After supper was over little Gretchen drew her stool up to Granny's +side, and laying her soft, little hands on Granny's knee asked to be +told once again the story of the coming of the Christ-Child; how the +night that he was born the beautiful angels had sung their wonderful +song, and how the whole sky had become bright with a strange and +glorious light, never seen by the people of earth before. Gretchen had +heard the story many, many times before, but she never grew tired of +it, and now that Christmas Eve had come again, the happy little child +wanted to hear it once more.</p> + +<p>When Granny had finished telling it the two sat quiet and silent for a +little while thinking it over; then Granny rose and said that it was +time for her to go to bed. She slowly took off her heavy wooden shoes, +such as are worn in that country, and placed them beside the hearth.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> +Gretchen looked thoughtfully at them for a minute or two, and then she +said, "Granny, don't you think that <i>somebody</i> in all this wide world +will think of us tonight?"</p> + +<p>"Nay, Gretchen, I do not think any one will."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, Granny," said Gretchen, "the Christmas angels will, I +know; so I am going to take one of your wooden shoes and put it on the +windowsill outside, so that they may see it as they pass by. I am sure +the stars will tell the Christmas angels where the shoe is."</p> + +<p>"Ah, you foolish, foolish child," said Granny, "you are only getting +ready for a disappointment. Tomorrow morning there will be nothing +whatever in the shoe. I can tell you that now."</p> + +<p>But little Gretchen would not listen. She only shook her head and +cried out: "Ah, Granny, you do not talk enough to the stars." With +this she seized the shoe, and opening the door, hurried out to place +it on the window sill. It was very dark without and something soft and +cold seemed to gently kiss her hair and face. Gretchen knew by this +that it was snowing, and she looked up to the sky, anxious to see if +the stars were in sight, but a strong wind was tumbling the dark, +heavy snow-clouds about and had shut away all else.</p> + +<p>"Never mind," said Gretchen softly to herself, "the stars are up +there, even if I can't see them, and the Christmas angels do not mind +snow storms."</p> + +<p>Just then a rough wind went sweeping by the little girl, whispering +something to her which she could not understand, and then it made a +sudden rush up to the snow clouds and parted them, so that the deep +mysterious sky appeared beyond, and shining down out of the midst of +it was Gretchen's favorite star.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span>"Ah, little star, little star!" said the child, laughing aloud, "I +knew you were there, though I could not see you. Will you whisper to +the Christmas angels as they come by that little Gretchen wants so +very much to have a Christmas gift tomorrow morning, if they have one +to spare, and that she has put one of Granny's shoes upon the +windowsill for it?"</p> + +<p>A moment more and the little girl, standing on tiptoe had reached the +windowsill and placed the shoe upon it, and was back again in the +house beside Granny and the warm fire.</p> + +<p>The two went quietly to bed, and that night as little Gretchen knelt +to pray to the Heavenly Father, she thanked him for having sent the +Christ-Child into the world to teach all mankind to be loving and +unselfish, and in a few minutes she was sleeping, dreaming of the +Christmas angels.</p> + +<p>The next morning, very early, even before the sun was up, little +Gretchen was awakened by the sound of sweet music coming from the +village. She listened for a moment and then she knew that the choir +boys were singing the Christmas carols in the open air of the village +street. She sprang up out of bed and began to dress herself as quickly +as possible, singing as she dressed. While Granny was slowly putting +on her clothes, little Gretchen having finished dressing herself, +unfastened the door and hurried out to see what the Christmas angels +had left in the old wooden shoe.</p> + +<p>The white snow covered everything—trees, stumps, roads, and +pastures—until the whole world looked like fairy land. Gretchen +climbed up on a large stone which was beneath the window and carefully +lifted down the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span>wooden shoe. The snow tumbled off of it in a shower +over the little girl's hands, but she did not heed that; she ran +hurriedly back into the house, putting her hand into the toe of the +shoe as she ran.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Granny, Granny!" she exclaimed; "you did not believe the +Christmas angels would think about us, but see, they have, they have! +Here is a dear little bird nestled down in the toe of your shoe! Oh, +isn't he beautiful?"</p> + +<p>Granny came forward and looked at what the child was holding lovingly +in her hand. There she saw a tiny chick-a-dee, whose wing was +evidently broken by the rough and boisterous winds of the night +before, and who had taken shelter in the safe, dry toe of the old +wooden shoe. She gently took the little bird out of Gretchen's hands, +and skilfully bound his broken wing to his side, so that he need not +hurt himself trying to fly with it. Then she showed Gretchen how to +make a nice warm nest for the little stranger, close beside the fire +and when their breakfast was ready, she let Gretchen feed the little +bird with a few moist crumbs.</p> + +<p>Later in the day Gretchen carried the fresh, green boughs to the old +sick man by the mill, and on her way home stopped to enjoy the +Christmas toys of some other children that she knew, never once +wishing they were hers. When she reached home she found that the +little bird had gone to sleep. Soon, however, he opened his eyes and +stretched his head up, saying just as plain as a bird can say:</p> + +<p>"Now, my new friends, I want you to give me something more to eat." +Gretchen gladly fed him again, and then, holding him in her lap, she +softly and gently stroked <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span>his gray feathers until the little creature +seemed to lose all fear of her. That evening Granny taught her a +Christmas hymn and told her another beautiful Christmas story. Then +Gretchen made up a funny little story to tell the birdie. He winked +his eyes and turned his head from side to side in such a droll fashion +that Gretchen laughed until the tears came.</p> + +<p>As Granny and she got ready for bed that night, Gretchen put her arms +softly around Granny's neck, and whispered: "What a beautiful +Christmas we have had today, Granny. Is there anything more lovely in +all the world than Christmas?"</p> + +<p>"Nay, child, nay," said Granny, "not to such loving hearts as yours."</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_11" id="Footnote_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11"><span class="label">*</span></a> Reprinted by permission of the author from her +collection, "Christmastide." Published by the Chicago Kindergarten +College.</p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span></p> +<h3>THE LITTLE SHEPHERD<a name="FNanchor_12" id="FNanchor_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_12" class="fnanchor">*</a></h3> + +<h4><span class="smcap">By Maud Lindsay</span></h4> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span>The shepherd was sick and the shepherd's wife looked out from her door +with anxious eyes. "Who will carry the sheep to the pasture lands +today?" she said to her little boy Jean.</p> + +<p>"I will," cried Jean, "I will. Mother, let me."</p> + +<p>Jean and his father and mother lived long ago in a sunny land across +the sea, where flowers bloom, and birds sing, and shepherds feed their +flocks in the green valleys. Every morning, as soon as it was light, +Jean's father was up and away with his sheep. He had never missed a +morning before, and the sheep were bleating in the fold as if to say, +"Don't forget us today."</p> + +<p>The sheep were Jean's playfellows. There was nothing he liked better +than to wander with them in the pleasant pastures, and already they +knew his voice and followed at his call.</p> + +<p>"Let the lad go," said his old grandfather. "When I was no older than +he I watched my father's flock."</p> + +<p>Jean's father said the same thing, so the mother made haste to get the +little boy ready.</p> + +<p>"Eat your dinner when the shadows lie straight across the grass," she +said as she kissed him good-bye.</p> + +<p>"And keep the sheep from the forest paths," called his sick father.</p> + +<p>"And watch, for it is when the shepherd is not watching that the wolf +comes to the flock," said the old grandfather.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span>"Never fear," said little Jean. "The wolf shall not have any of my +white lambs."</p> + +<p>They were white sheep and black sheep and frolicsome lambs in the +shepherd's flock, and each one had a name of its own. There was +Babbette, and Nannette, and Pierrot, and Jeannot,—I cannot tell them +all, but Jean knew every name.</p> + +<p>"Come, Bettine and Marie. Come, Pierrot and Croisette. Come, pretty +ones all," he called as he led them from the fold that day. "I will +carry you to the meadows where the daisies grow."</p> + +<p>"Baa," answered the sheep, well satisfied, as they followed him down +the king's highway, and over the hill to the pasture lands.</p> + +<p>The other shepherds were already there with their flocks, so Jean was +not lonely. He watered his sheep at the dancing brook that ran through +the flowers, and led them along its shady banks to feed in the sunny +fields beyond, and not one lambkin strayed from his care to the forest +paths.</p> + +<p>The forest lay dim and shadowy on one side of the pasture lands. The +deer lived there, and the boars that fed upon acorns, and many other +creatures that loved the wild woods. There had been wolves in the +forest, but the king's knights had driven them away and the shepherds +feared them no longer. Only the old men like Jean's grandfather, and +the little boys like Jean, talked of them still.</p> + +<p>Jean was not afraid. Oh, no. There was not a lamb in the flock so +merry and fearless as he. He sang with the birds and ran with the +brook, and laughed till the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span>echoes laughed with him as he watched the +sheep from early morn to noon, when the shadows fell straight across +the grass and it was time for him to eat his dinner.</p> + +<p>There were little cakes in Jean's dinner basket. He had seen his +mother put them there, but he had not tasted a single one when, out on +the king's highway, beyond the hill, he heard the sound of pipes and +drums, and the tramp, tramp of many feet.</p> + +<p>The other shepherds heard too, and they began to listen and to stare +and to run. "The king and his knights are coming," they cried. "Come +let us see them as they pass by."</p> + +<p>"Who will take care of the sheep?" asked Jean, but nobody answered, so +he too left his dinner and ran with the rest, away from the pastures +and up the hillside path that led to the highway.</p> + +<p>"How pleased my mother will be when I tell her that I have seen the +king," he said to himself, and he was hurrying over the hill top when +all at once he remembered the forest, and the wolf, and his +grandfather's words.</p> + +<p>"Come on," called the others.</p> + +<p>"I must stay with the sheep," answered he; and he turned and went +back, though the pipes and the drums all seemed to say, "Come this +way, come this way." He could scarcely keep from crying as he +listened.</p> + +<p>There was nothing in sight to harm the sheep, and the pasture lands +were quiet and peaceful, but into the forest that very day a hungry +gray wolf had come. His eyes were bright and his ears were sharp and +his four feet were as soft as velvet, as he came creeping, creeping, +creeping under the houses and through the tanglewood. He put his nose +out and sniffed the air, and he put his <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span>head out and spied the sheep +left alone in the meadows. "Now's my chance," he said, and out he +sprang just as little Jean down the hill.</p> + +<p>"Wolf, wolf, wolf!" shouted Jean. "Wolf, wolf, wolf!" He was only a +little boy, but he was brave and his voice rang clear as a bugle call +over the valley, and over the hill, "Wolf, wolf, wolf!"</p> + +<p>The shepherds and knights and the king himself came running and riding +to answer his cry, and as for the gray wolf, he did not even stop to +look behind him as he sped away to the forest shades. He ran so fast +and he ran so far that he was never seen in the king's country again, +though the shepherds in the pastures watched for him day after day.</p> + +<p>Jean led his flock home at eventide, white sheep and black sheep and +frolicsome lambs, not one was missing.</p> + +<p>"Was the day long?" asked his mother, who was watching in the doorway +for him.</p> + +<p>"Are the sheep all in?" called the sick father.</p> + +<p>"Did the wolf come?" said the old grandfather; but there is no need +for me to tell you what <i>Jean</i> said. You can imagine that for +yourself.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_12" id="Footnote_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12"><span class="label">*</span></a> From "More Mother Stories," by Maud Lindsay. Used by +permission of the author and the publishers—the Milton Bradley +Company.</p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span></p> +<h3>BABOUSCKA<a name="FNanchor_13" id="FNanchor_13"></a><a href="#Footnote_13" class="fnanchor">*</a></h3> + +<h4><span class="smcap">Russian Legend</span></h4> + + +<p>It was the night the dear Christ Child came to Bethlehem. In a country +far away from Him, an old, old woman named Babouscka sat in her snug +little house by her warm fire. The wind was drifting the snow outside +and howling down the chimney, but it only made Babouscka's fire burn +more brightly.</p> + +<p>"How glad I am that I may stay indoors!" said Babouscka, holding her +hands out to the bright blaze. But suddenly she heard a loud rap at +her door. She opened it and her candle shone on three old men standing +outside in the snow. Their beards were as white as the snow, and so +long that they reached the ground. Their eyes shone kindly in the +light of Babouscka's candle, and their arms were full of precious +things—boxes of jewels, and sweet-smelling oils, and ointments.</p> + +<p>"We have traveled far, Babouscka," said they, "and we stop to tell you +of the Baby Prince born this night in Bethlehem. He comes to rule the +world and teach all men to be loving and true. We carry Him gifts. +Come with us, Babouscka!"</p> + +<p>But Babouscka looked at the driving snow, and then inside at her cozy +room and the crackling fire. "It is too late for me to go with you, +good sirs," she said, "the weather is too cold." She went inside again +and shut the door, and the old men journeyed on to Bethlehem without +her. But as Babouscka sat by her fire, rocking, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span>she began to think +about the little Christ Child, for she loved all babies.</p> + +<p>"Tomorrow I will go to find Him," she said; "tomorrow, when it is +light, and I will carry Him some toys."</p> + +<p>So when it was morning Babouscka put on her long cloak, and took her +staff, and filled a basket with the pretty things a baby would +like—gold balls, and wooden toys, and strings of silver cobwebs—and +she set out to find the Christ Child.</p> + +<p>But, oh! Babouscka had forgotten to ask the three old men the road to +Bethlehem, and they had traveled so far through the night that she +could not overtake them. Up and down the roads she hurried, through +woods and fields and towns, saying to whomsoever she met: "I go to +find the Christ Child. Where does he lie? I bring some pretty toys for +His sake."</p> + +<p>But no one could tell her the way to go, and they all said: "Farther +on, Babouscka, farther on." So she traveled on, and on, and on for +years and years—but she never found the little Christ Child.</p> + +<p>They say that old Babouscka is traveling still, looking for Him. When +it comes Christmas eve, and the children are lying fast asleep, +Babouscka comes softly through the snowy fields and towns, wrapped in +her long cloak and carrying her basket on her arm. With her staff she +raps gently at the doors and goes inside and holds her candle close to +the little children's faces.</p> + +<p>"Is He here?" she asks. "Is the little Christ Child here?" And then +she turns sorrowfully away again, crying: "Farther on, farther on." +But before she leaves she takes a toy from her basket and lays it +beside the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span>pillow for a Christmas gift. "For His sake," she says +softly and then hurries on through the years and forever in search of +the little Christ Child.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_13" id="Footnote_13"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13"><span class="label">*</span></a> From "For the Children's Hour," by Bailey and Lewis. Used +by permission of the authors and also the publishers—Milton Bradley +Company.</p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span></p> +<h3>THE BOY WITH THE BOX</h3> + +<h4><span class="smcap">By Mary Griggs Van Voorhis</span></h4> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span>It was an ideal Christmas day. The sun shone brightly but the air was +crisp and cold, and snow and ice lay sparkling everywhere. A light +wind, the night before, had swept the blue, icebound river clean of +scattering snow; and, by two o'clock in the afternoon, the broad bend +near Creighton's mill was fairly alive with skaters. The girls in gay +caps and scarfs, the boys in sweaters and mackinaws of every +conceivable hue, with here and there a plump, matronly figure in a +plush coat or a tiny fellow in scarlet, made a picture of life and +brilliancy worthy of an artist's finest skill.</p> + +<p>Tom Reynolds moved in and out among the happy throng, with swift, easy +strokes, his cap on the back of his curly head, and his brown eyes +shining with excitement. Now and again, he glanced down with +pardonable pride, at the brand new skates that twinkled beneath his +feet. "Jolly Ramblers," sure enough "Jolly Ramblers" they were! Ever +since Ralph Evans had remarked, with a tantalizing toss of his +handsome head, that "no game fellow would try to skate on anything but +'Jolly Ramblers,'" Tom had yearned, with an inexpressible longing, for +a pair of these wonderful skates. And now they were his and the ice +was fine and the Christmas sun was shining!</p> + +<p>Tom was rounding the big bend for the fiftieth time, when he saw, +skimming gracefully toward him through <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span>the merry crowd, a tall boy in +a fur-trimmed coat, his handsome head proudly erect.</p> + +<p>"That's Ralph Evans now," said Tom to himself. "Just wait till you see +these skates, old boy, and maybe you won't feel so smart!" And with +slow, cautious strokes, he made his way through laughing boys and +girls to a place just in front of the tall skater, coming toward him +down the broad white way. When Ralph was almost upon him, Tom paused +and in conspicuous silence, looked down at his shining skates.</p> + +<p>"Hullo," said Ralph good naturedly, seizing Tom's arm and swinging +around. Then, taking in the situation with a careless glance, he +added, "Get a new pair of skates for Christmas?"</p> + +<p>"'Jolly Ramblers,'" said Tom impressively, "the best 'Jolly Ramblers' +in the market!"</p> + +<p>Ralph was a full half head the taller, but, as Tom delivered himself +of this speech with his head held high, he felt every inch as tall as +the boy before him.</p> + +<p>If Ralph was deeply impressed he failed to show it, as he answered +carelessly, "Huh, that so? Pretty good little skates they are, the +'Jolly Ramblers!'"</p> + +<p>"You said no game fellow would use any other make," said Tom hotly.</p> + +<p>"O but that was nearly a year ago," said Ralph. "I got a new pair of +skates for Christmas, too," he added, as if it had just occurred to +him, "'Club House' skates, something new in the market just this +season. Just look at the curve of that skate, will you?" he added, +lifting a foot for inspection, "and that clamp that you couldn't shake +off if you had to! They're guaranteed for a year, too, and if anything +gives out, you get a new pair for <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span>nothing. Three and a half, they +cost, at Mr. Harrison's hardware store. I gave my 'Jolly Ramblers' to +a kid about your size. A mighty good little skate they are!" And, with +a long, graceful stroke, Ralph Evans skated away.</p> + +<p>And it seemed to Tom Reynolds that all his Christmas joy went skimming +away behind him. The sun still shone, the ice still gleamed, the +skaters laughed and sang, but Tom moved slowly on, with listless, +heavy strokes. The "Jolly Ramblers" still twinkled beneath his feet, +but he looked down at them no more. What was the use of "Jolly +Ramblers" when Ralph Evans had a pair of "Club House" skates that cost +a dollar more, had a graceful curve, and a faultless clamp, and were +guaranteed for a year?</p> + +<p>It was only four o'clock when Tom slipped his new skates carelessly +over his shoulder and started up the bank for home. He was slouching +down the main street, head down, hands thrust deep into his pockets, +when, on turning a corner, he ran plump into—a full moon! Now I know +it is rather unusual for full moons to be walking about the streets by +daylight; but that is the only adequate description of the round, +freckled face that beamed at Tom from behind a great box, held by two +sturdy arms.</p> + +<p>"That came pretty near being a collision," said the owner of the full +moon, still beaming, as he set down the box and leaned against a +building to rest a moment.</p> + +<p>"Nobody hurt, I guess," said Tom.</p> + +<p>"Been down to the ice?" asked the boy, eagerly. "I could see the +skaters from Patton's store. O, I see, you got some new skates for +Christmas! Ain't they beau<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span>ties, now?" And he beamed on the despised +"Jolly Ramblers" with his heart in his little blue eyes.</p> + +<p>"A pretty good little pair of skates," said Tom, in Ralph's +condescending tone.</p> + +<p>"Good! Well I should guess yes! And Christmas ice just made o' +purpose!" In spite of his ill humor, Tom could not help responding to +the warm interest of the shabby boy at his side. He knew him to be +Harvey McGinnis, the son of a poor Irish widow, who worked at Patton's +department store out of school hours. Looking at the great box with an +awakening interest, he remarked, kindly, "What you been doin' with +yourself on Christmas day?"</p> + +<p>"Want to know, sure enough?" said Harvey, mysteriously, his round face +beaming more brightly than ever, "Well, I've been doin' the Santy +Claus act down at Patton's store.</p> + +<p>"About a week ago," he went on, leaning back easily against the tall +building and thrusting his hands down deep into his well worn pockets, +"about a week ago, as I was cleaning out the storeroom, I came on +three big boxes with broken dolls in 'em. Beauties they were, I kin +tell you, the Lady Jane in a blue silk dress, the Lady Clarabel in +pink, and the Lady Matilda in shimmerin' white. Nothin' wrong with 'em +either only broken rubbers that put their jints out o' whack and set +their heads arollin' this way and that. 'They could be fixed in no +time, I ses to myself, 'and what a prize they'd be fer the kids to be +sure!' For mom and me had racked our brains considerable how we'd +scrape together the money for Christmas things for the girls.</p> + +<p>"So I went to the boss and I asked him right out what <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span>he'd charge me +for the three ladies just as they wus, and he ses, 'Jimmie,' he ses +(I've told him me name a dozen times, but he allus calls me 'Jimmie'), +'Jimmie,' he ses, 'if you'll come down on Christmas day and help me +take down the fixin's and fix up the store for regular trade, I'll +give you the dolls fer nothin',' he ses.</p> + +<p>"So I explained to the kids that Santy'd be late to our house this +year (with so many to see after it wouldn't be strange) and went down +to the store early this morning and finished me work and fixed up the +ladies es good es new. Would you like to be seein' 'em, now?" he +added, turning to the great box with a look of pride.</p> + +<p>"Sure, I'd like to see 'em," said Tom.</p> + +<p>With careful, almost reverent touch, Harvey untied the string and +opened the large box, disclosing three smaller boxes, one above the +other. Opening the first box, he revealed a really handsome doll in a +blue silk dress, with large dark eyes that opened and shut and dark, +curling locks of "real hair."</p> + +<p>"This is the Lady Jane," he said, smoothing her gay frock with gentle +fingers. "We're goin' to give her to Kitty. Kitty's hair is pretty and +curly, but she hates it, 'cause it's red; and she thinks black hair is +the prettiest kind in the world. Ain't it funny how all of us will be +wantin' what we don't have ourselves?"</p> + +<p>Tom did not reply to this bit of philosophy; but he laid a repentant +hand on the "Jolly Ramblers" as if he knew he had wronged them in his +heart. "That's as handsome a doll as ever I saw and no mistake," he +said.</p> + +<p>Pleased with this praise, Harvey opened the second box and disclosed +the Lady Matilda with fair golden curls and a dress of "shimmerin' +white." "The Lady<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> Matilda goes to Josephine," said Harvey. "Josephine +has black hair, straight as a string, and won't she laugh, though, to +see them fetchin' yellow curls?"</p> + +<p>"She surely ought to be glad," said Tom.</p> + +<p>The Lady Clarabel was another fair-haired lady in a gown of the +brightest pink. "This here beauty's for the baby," said Harvey, his +eyes glowing. "She don't care if the hair's black or yellow, but won't +that stunnin' dress make her eyes pop out?"</p> + +<p>"They'll surely believe in Santy when they see those beauties," said +Tom.</p> + +<p>'That's just what I was sayin' to mom this morning," said Harvey. +"Kitty's had some doubts, (she's almost nine), but when she sees those +fine ladies she'll be dead sure mom and I didn't buy 'em. If I had a +Santy Claus suit, I'd dress up and hand 'em out myself."</p> + +<p>Tom's face lighted with a bright idea. "My brother Bob's got a Santa +Claus suit that he used in a show last Christmas," he said. "Say, let +me dress up and play Santa for you. The girls would never guess who I +was!"</p> + +<p>"Wouldn't they stare, though!" said Harvey, delightedly. "But do you +think you'd want to take time," he asked apologetically, "and you with +a new pair of skates and the ice like this?"</p> + +<p>"Of course, I want to if you'll let me," said Tom. "I'll skate down +the river and meet you anywhere you say."</p> + +<p>"Out in our back yard, then, at seven o'clock," said Harvey.</p> + +<p>"All right, I'll be there!" and with head up, and skates clinking, Tom +hurried away.</p> + +<p>It was a flushed, excited boy who burst into the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> Reynolds' quiet +sitting room a few minutes later, with his skates still hanging on his +shoulder and his cap in his hand. "Say, mother," he cried, "can I have +Bob's Santa Claus suit this evening, please? I'm going to play Santa +Claus for Harvey McGinnis!"</p> + +<p>"Play Santa Claus for Harvey McGinnis. What do you mean, child?"</p> + +<p>"You know Mrs. McGinnis, mother, that poor woman who lives in the +little house by the river. Her husband got killed on the railroad last +winter, you know. Well, Harvey, her boy, has fixed up some grand +looking dolls for his sisters and he wants me to come out and play +Santa tonight," and Tom launched out into a long story about Harvey +and his good fortune.</p> + +<p>"He must be a splendid boy," said Mrs. Reynolds, heartily, "and I am +sure I shall be glad to have you go."</p> + +<p>"And another thing, mother," said Tom, hesitating a little, "do you +think grandma would care if I spent part of that five dollars she gave +me for a pair of skates for Harvey? He hasn't any skates at all, and I +know he'd just love to have some!"</p> + +<p>"It is generous of you to think of it," said his mother, much pleased, +"and you would still have two and a half for that little trip down to +grandma's."</p> + +<p>"But I'd like to get him some 'Club House' skates," said Tom. "They're +a new kind that cost three dollars and a half."</p> + +<p>"But I thought you said the 'Jolly Ramblers' were the best skates +made?" Mrs. Reynolds looked somewhat hurt as she glanced from Tom to +the skates on his shoulder and back to Tom again.</p> + +<p>"They are, mother, they're just dandies!" said Tom <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span>blushing with +shame that he could ever have despised his mother's gift. "But these +'Club House' skates are just the kind for Harvey. You see, Harvey's +shoes are old and worn, and these 'Club House' skates have clamps that +you can't shake loose if you have to. Then, if anything happens to +them before the year's up, you get a new pair free; and Harvey, you +know, wouldn't have any money to be fixing skates."</p> + +<p>"Well, do as you like," said Mrs. Reynolds, pleased with Tom's +eagerness, for such a spell of generosity was something new in her +selfish younger son. "But remember, you will have to wait a while for +your visit to grandma."</p> + +<p>"All right, and thank you, mother," said Tom. "You can buy the skates +down at Harrison's and I'm going over and ask Mr. Harrison if he won't +open up the store and get a pair for me for a special time like this. +I'm most sure he will!" and away he flew.</p> + +<p>That evening, at seven, as the moon was rising over the eastern hills, +a short, portly Santa Claus stepped out of the dry reeds by the river +bank and walked with wonderfully nimble feet, right into the McGinnis' +little back yard. As he neared the small back porch, a dark figure +rose to greet him, one hand held up in warning, the other holding at +arm's length, a bulky grain sack, full to the brim.</p> + +<p>"Here's yer pack, Santy," he whispered, gleefully. "They're all +waitin' in the front room yonder. I'll slip in the back way, whilst +you go round and give a good thump at the front door and mom'll let +you in."</p> + +<p>Trembling with eagerness, Tom tiptoed round the house, managing to +slip an oblong package into the capa<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span>cious depths of the big sack as +he did so. Thump, thump! how his knock reëchoed in the frosty air! The +door swung wide, and Mrs. McGinnis' gaunt figure stood before him.</p> + +<p>"Good evenin', Santy, come right in," she said.</p> + +<p>Tom had always thought what a homely woman Harvey's mother was when he +happened to meet her at the grocery, with her thin red hair drawn +severely back from her gaunt face, and a black shawl over her head. +But as he looked up into her big, kind face, so full of Christmas +sunshine, he wondered he could ever have thought her anything but +lovely. The room was small and bare, but wonderfully gay with pine and +bits of red and green crepe paper, saved from the 'fixins' at the +store. And on a large bed in the corner sat the three little girls, +Kitty with her bright curls bobbing, Josephine with her black braids +sticking straight out, and the baby with tiny blue eyes that twinkled +and shone like Harvey's.</p> + +<p>The fine speech that Tom had been saying over to himself for the past +two hours seemed to vanish into thin air before this excited little +audience. But in faltering, stammering tones, which everyone was too +excited to notice, he managed to say something about "Merry Christmas" +and "good children" and then proceeded to open the magic sack. "Miss +Kitty McGinnis!" he called, in deep, gruff tones. Kitty took the box +he offered with shy embarrassment, slowly drew back the lid and gave a +cry of amazement and delight. "A doll, O the loveliest doll that ever +was!" she cried. Then turning to her brother, she whispered as softly +as excitement would permit, "O Harvey, I'm afeard ye paid too much!"</p> + +<p>"Aw, go on!" said Harvey, his face more like a full <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span>moon than ever. +"Don't ye know that Santy kin do whatever he wants to?"</p> + +<p>The other dolls were received with raptures, Josephine stroking the +golden curls of the Lady Matilda with wondering fingers, and the baby +dancing round and round, waving the pink-robed Lady Clarabel above her +head.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Harvey McGinnis!" came the gruff tones of Santa Claus; and Harvey +smiled over to his mother as he drew out a pair of stout cloth gloves.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. McGinnis!" And that good lady smiled back, as she shook out a +dainty white apron with a coarse embroidery ruffle.</p> + +<p>"I reckon Santy wanted you to wear that of a Sunday afternoon," said +Harvey, awkwardly.</p> + +<p>"And I'll be proud to do it!" said his mother.</p> + +<p>Little sacks of candy were next produced and everyone settled down to +enjoy it, thinking that the bottom of the big sack must be reached, +when Santa called out in tones that trembled beneath the gruffness, +"Another package for Mr. Harvey McGinnis!"</p> + +<p>"Fer me—why—what—" said Harvey, taking the heavy oblong bundle; +then, as the sparkling "Club House" skates met his view, his face lit +up with a glory that Tom never forgot. The glory lasted but a moment, +then he turned a troubled face toward the bulky old saint.</p> + +<p>"You never ought to a done it," he said. "These must have cost a lot!"</p> + +<p>"Aw, go on," was the reply in a distinctly boyish tone, "don't you +know that Santy can do whatever he wants to?" and, with a prodigious +bow, old Santa was gone.</p> + +<p>A few minutes later, a slender boy with a bundle <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span>under his arm, was +skating swiftly down the shining river in the moonlight. As he rounded +the bend, a tall figure in a fur-trimmed coat came skimming slowly +toward him, and a voice called out in Ralph Evans' condescending +tones, "Well, how are the 'Jolly Ramblers' doing tonight?"</p> + +<p>But the answer, this time, was clear and glad and triumphant. "The +best in the world," said Tom, "and isn't this the glorious night for +skating?"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span></p> +<h3>THE WORKER IN SANDALWOOD<a name="FNanchor_14" id="FNanchor_14"></a><a href="#Footnote_14" class="fnanchor">*</a></h3> + +<h4><span class="smcap">By Marjorie L. C. Pickthall</span></h4> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span>The good curé of Terminaison says that this tale of Hyacinthe's is all +a dream. But then Madame points triumphantly to the little cabinet of +sandalwood in the corner of her room. It had stood there for many +years now, and the dust has gathered in the fine lines of the little +birds' feathers, and softened the petals of the lilies carved at the +corners. And the wood has taken on a golden gleam like the memory of a +sunset.</p> + +<p>"What of that, my friend?" says Madame, pointing to the cabinet. And +the old curé bows his head.</p> + +<p>"It may be so. God is very good," he says gently. But he is never +quite sure what he may believe.</p> + +<p>On that winter day long ago, Hyacinthe was quite sure of one thing and +that was that the workshop was very cold. There was no fire in it, and +only one little lamp when the early dark drew on. The tools were so +cold they scorched his fingers, and feet were so cold he danced +clumsily in the shavings to warm them. He was a great clumsy boy of +fourteen, dark-faced, dull-eyed, and uncared for. He was clumsy +because it is impossible to be graceful when you are growing very fast +and have not enough to eat. He was dull-eyed because all eyes met his +unlovingly. He was uncared for because no one knew the beauty of his +soul. But his heavy young hands could<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> carve things like birds and +flowers perfectly. On this winter evening he was just wondering if he +might lay aside the tools, and creep home to the cold loft where he +slept, when he heard Pierre L'Oreillard's voice shouting outside.</p> + +<p>"Be quick, be quick, and open the door, thou <i>imbecile</i>. It is I, thy +master."</p> + +<p>"<i>Oui, mon maitre</i>," said Hyacinthe, and he shambled to the door and +opened it.</p> + +<p>"Slow worm!" cried Pierre, and he cuffed Hyacinthe as he passed in. +Hyacinthe rubbed his head and said nothing. He was used to blows. He +wondered why his master was in the workshop at that time of day +instead of drinking brandy at the Cinq Chateaux.</p> + +<p>Pierre L'Oreillard had a small heavy bundle under his arm, wrapped in +sacking, and then in burlap, and then in fine soft cloths. He laid it +on a pile of shavings, and unfolded it carefully; and a dim sweetness +filled the dark shed and hung heavily in the thin winter sunbeams.</p> + +<p>"It is a piece of wood," said Hyacinthe in slow surprise. He knew that +such wood had never been seen in Terminaison.</p> + +<p>Pierre L'Oreillard rubbed the wood respectfully with his knobby +fingers.</p> + +<p>"It is sandalwood," he explained to Hyacinthe, pride of knowledge +making him quite amiable, "a most precious wood that grows in warm +countries, thou great goblin. Smell it, idiot. It is sweeter than +cedar. It is to make a cabinet for the old Madame at the big house."</p> + +<p>"<i>Oui, mon maitre</i>," said the dull Hyacinthe.</p> + +<p>"Thy great hands shall shape and smooth the wood,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> <i>nigaud</i>, and I +will render it beautiful," said Pierre, puffing out his chest.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Master," answered Hyacinthe humbly, "and when is it to be ready +for Madame?"</p> + +<p>"Madame will want it perhaps next week, for that is Christmas. It is +to be finished and ready on the holy festival, great sluggard. Hearest +thou?" and he cuffed Hyacinthe's ears again furiously.</p> + +<p>Hyacinthe knew that the making of the cabinet would fall to him, as +most of the other work did. When Pierre L'Oreillard was gone he +touched the strange sweet wood and at last laid his cheek against it, +while the fragrance caught his breath. "How it is beautiful!" said +Hyacinthe, and for a moment his eyes glowed, and he was happy. Then +the light passed and with bent head he shuffled back to his bench +through a foam of white shavings curling almost to his knees.</p> + +<p>"Madame will want the cabinet for Christmas," repeated Hyacinthe to +himself, and fell to work harder than ever, though it was so cold in +the shed that his breath hung in the air like a little silvery cloud. +There was a tiny window on his right, through which, when it was clear +of frost, one looked on Terminaison; and that was cheerful, and made +him whistle. But to the left, through the chink of the ill-fitting +door, there was nothing to be seen but the forest, and the road dying +under the snow.</p> + +<p>Brandy was good at the Cinq Chateaux and Pierre L'Oreillard gave +Hyacinthe plenty of directions, but no further help with the cabinet.</p> + +<p>"That is to be finished for Madame at the festival, sluggard," said he +every day, cuffing Hyacinthe about the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span>head, "finished, and with a +prettiness about the corners, hearest thou, <i>ourson</i>?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Monsieur," said Hyacinthe in his slow way; "I will try to finish +it. But if I hurry I shall spoil it."</p> + +<p>Pierre's little eyes flickered. "See that it is done, and done +properly. I suffer from a delicacy of the constitution and a little +feebleness of the legs these days, so that I cannot handle the tools +properly. I must leave this work to thee, <i>gacheur</i>. And stand up and +touch a hand to thy cap when I speak to thee, slow-worm."</p> + +<p>"Yes, monsieur," said Hyacinthe wearily.</p> + +<p>It is hard to do all the work and to be beaten into the bargain. And +fourteen is not very old. Hyacinthe worked on at the cabinet with his +slow and exquisite skill. But on Christmas eve he was still at work, +and the cabinet unfinished.</p> + +<p>"The master will beat me," thought Hyacinthe, and he trembled a +little, for Pierre's beatings were cruel. "But if I hurry, I shall +spoil the wood, and it is too beautiful to be spoiled."</p> + +<p>But he trembled again when Pierre came into the workshop, and he stood +up and touched his cap.</p> + +<p>"Is the cabinet finished, <i>imbecile</i>?" asked Pierre. And Hyacinthe +answered in a low voice, "No, it is not finished yet, monsieur."</p> + +<p>"Then work on it all night, and show it to me completed in the +morning, or thy bones shall mourn thine idleness," said Pierre, with a +wicked look in his little eyes. And he shut Hyacinthe into the shed +with a smoky lamp, his tools, and the sandalwood cabinet.</p> + +<p>It was nothing unusual. He had been often left before to finish a +piece of work overnight while Pierre <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span>went off to his brandies. But +this was Christmas eve, and he was very tired. Even the scent of the +sandalwood could not make him fancy he was warm. The world seemed to +be a black place, full of suffering and despair.</p> + +<p>"In all the world, I have no friend," said Hyacinthe, staring at the +flame of the lamp. "In all the world, there is no one to care whether +I live or die. In all the world, no place, no heart, no love. O kind +God, is there a place, a love for me in another world?"</p> + +<p>I hope you feel very sorry for Hyacinthe, lonely, and cold, and shut +up in the workshop on the eve of Christmas. He was but an overgrown, +unhappy child. And I think with old Madame that for unhappy children, +at this season, no help seems too divine for faith.</p> + +<p>"There is no one to care for me," said Hyacinthe. And he even looked +at the chisel in his hand, thinking that by a touch of that he might +lose it all, and be at peace, somewhere, not far from God. Only it was +forbidden. Then came the tears, and great sobs that shook him, so that +he scarcely heard the gentle rattling of the latch.</p> + +<p>He stumbled to the door, opening it on the still woods and the frosty +stars. And a lad who stood outside in the snow said, "I see you are +working late, comrade. May I come in?"</p> + +<p>Hyacinthe brushed his ragged sleeve across his eyes and nodded "Yes." +Those little villages strung along the great river see strange +wayfarers at times. And Hyacinthe said to himself that surely here was +such a one. Blinking into the stranger's eyes, he lost for a flash the +first impression of youth, and received one of incredible age or +sadness. But the wanderer's eyes were only quiet, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span>very quiet, like +the little pools in the wood where the wild does went to drink. As he +turned within the door, smiling at Hyacinthe and shaking some snow +from his cap, he did not seem to be more than sixteen or so.</p> + +<p>"It is very cold outside," he said. "There is a big oak tree on the +edge of the fields that had split in the frost and frightened all the +little squirrels asleep there. Next year it will make an even better +home for them. And see what I found close by!" He opened his fingers +and showed Hyacinthe a little sparrow lying unruffled in the palm.</p> + +<p>"<i>Pauvrette!</i>" said the dull Hyacinthe. "<i>Pauvrette!</i> Is it then +dead?" He touched it with a gentle forefinger.</p> + +<p>"No," answered the strange boy, "it is not dead. We will put it here +among the shavings, not far from the lamp, and it will be well by the +morning."</p> + +<p>He smiled at Hyacinthe again, and the shambling lad felt dimly as if +the scent of the sandalwood were sweeter, and the lamp-flame clearer. +But the stranger's eyes were only quiet, quiet.</p> + +<p>"Have you come far?" asked Hyacinthe. "It is a bad season for +traveling, and the wolves are out."</p> + +<p>"A long way," said the other. "A long, long way. I heard a child +cry—"</p> + +<p>"There is no child here," put in Hyacinthe. "Monsieur L'Oreillard says +children cost too much money. But if you have come far, you must need +food and fire, and I have neither. At the Cinq Chateaux you will find +both."</p> + +<p>The stranger looked at him again with those quiet eyes, and Hyacinthe +fancied that his face was familiar. "I will stay here," he said; "you +are late at work, and you are unhappy."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span>"Why as to that," answered Hyacinthe, rubbing his cheeks and ashamed +of his tears, "most of are sad at one time or another, the good God +knows. Stay here and welcome if it pleases you; and you may take a +share of my bed, though it is no more than a pile of balsam boughs and +an old blanket in the loft. But I must work at this cabinet, for the +drawers must be finished and the handles put on and the corners +carved, all by the holy morning; or my wages will be paid with a +stick."</p> + +<p>"You have a hard master," put in the other, "if he would pay you with +blows upon the feast of Noel."</p> + +<p>"He is hard enough," said Hyacinthe, "but once he gave me a dinner of +sausages and white wine; and once, in the summer, melons. If my eyes +will stay open, I will finish this by morning. Stay with me an hour or +so, comrade, and talk to me of your travels, so that the time may pass +more quickly."</p> + +<p>And while Hyacinthe worked, he told,—of sunshine and dust, of the +shadow of vine-leaves on the flat white walls of a house; of rosy +doves on the roof; of the flowers that come out in the spring, +anemones crimson and blue, and white cyclamen in the shadow of the +rocks; of the olive, the myrtle, and the almond; until Hyacinthe's +fingers ceased working, and his sleepy eyes blinked wonderingly.</p> + +<p>"See what you have done, comrade," he said at last; "you have told me +of such pretty things that I have done but little work for an hour. +And now the cabinet will never be finished, and I shall be beaten."</p> + +<p>"Let me help you," smiled the other. "I also was bred a carpenter."</p> + +<p>At first Hyacinthe would not, fearing to trust the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span>sweet wood out of +his own hands. But at length he allowed the stranger to fit in one of +the drawers. And so deftly was it done that Hyacinthe pounded his +fists on the bench in admiration. "You have a pretty knack," he cried. +"It seemed as if you did but hold the drawer in your hands a moment, +and hey! it jumped into its place."</p> + +<p>"Let me fit in the other little drawers while you rest awhile," said +the stranger. So Hyacinthe curled up among the shavings, and the other +boy fell to work upon the little cabinet of sandalwood.</p> + +<p>Hyacinthe was very tired. He lay still among the shavings, and thought +of all the boy had told him, of the hillside flowers, the laughing +leaves, the golden bloom of the anise, and the golden sun upon the +roads until he was warm. And all the time the boy with the quiet eyes +was at work upon the cabinet, smoothing, fitting, polishing.</p> + +<p>"You do better work than I," said Hyacinthe once, and the stranger +answered, "I was lovingly taught." And again Hyacinthe said, "It is +growing towards morning. In a little while I will get up and help +you."</p> + +<p>"Lie still and rest," said the other boy. And Hyacinthe lay still. His +thoughts began to slide into dreams, and he woke with a little start, +for there seemed to be music in the shed; though he could not tell +whether it came from the strange boy's lips, or from the shappy tools +as he used them, or from the stars.</p> + +<p>"The stars are much paler," thought Hyacinthe. "Soon it will be +morning, and the corners are not carved yet. I must get up and help +this kind one in a little moment. Only the music and the sweetness +seem to fold me close, so that I may not move."</p> + +<p>Then behind the forest there shone a pale glow of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span>dawn, and in +Terminaison the church bells began to ring. "Day will soon be here," +thought Hyacinthe, "and with day will come Monsieur L'Oreillard and +his stick. I must get up and help for even yet the corners are not +carved."</p> + +<p>But the stranger looked at him, smiling as though he loved him, and +laid his brown finger lightly on the four empty corners of the +cabinet. And Hyacinthe saw the squares of reddish wood ripple and +heave and break, as little clouds when the wind goes through the sky. +And out of them thrust forth the little birds, and after them the +lilies, for a moment living; but even as Hyacinthe looked, settling +back into the sweet reddish-brown wood. Then the stranger smiled +again, laid all the tools in order, and, opening the door, went away +into the woods.</p> + +<p>Hyacinthe crept slowly to the door. The winter sun, half risen, filled +all the frosty air with splendid gold. Far down the road a figure +seemed to move amid the glory, but the splendor was such that +Hyacinthe was blinded. His breath came sharply as the glow beat on the +wretched shed, on the old shavings, on the cabinet with the little +birds and the lilies carved at the corners.</p> + +<p>He was too pure of heart to feel afraid. But "Blessed be the Lord," +whispered Hyacinthe, clasping his slow hands, "for He hath visited and +redeemed His people. But who will believe?"</p> + +<p>Then the sun of Christ's day rose gloriously, and the little sparrow +came from his nest among the shavings and shook his wings to the +light.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_14" id="Footnote_14"></a><a href="#FNanchor_14"><span class="label">*</span></a> Reprinted by permission of the publishers of +"Everyland."</p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span></p> +<h3>THE SHEPHERD WHO DIDN'T GO<a name="FNanchor_15" id="FNanchor_15"></a><a href="#Footnote_15" class="fnanchor">*</a></h3> + +<h4><span class="smcap">By Jay T. Stocking</span></h4> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span>You have all heard of the shepherds who went to Bethlehem, but I do +not believe any of you have heard of the shepherd who didn't go. The +Bible does not say anything about him, but his story has come to me, +and I am going to tell it to you.</p> + +<p>The city of Bethlehem stood on a hill. Below the town, with its steep +narrow streets and white walls, were gray olive orchards. Below the +orchards were gardens bright with flowers. Below the gardens lay green +meadows, and beyond these pasture-lands that stretched away to the +wilderness plains where little patches of grass grew among the bushes +and between the great rocks. There were caves among these rocks where +wolves used to skulk and sometimes robbers hid. So the shepherds who +guarded their flocks in these wild pastures dared not leave them +alone.</p> + +<p>One clear beautiful night, many centuries ago, four shepherds were +watching their flocks on these pastures. Samuel, Ezra, Joel, and +Dahvid were their names. Samuel, Ezra, and Joel were strong men, no +longer young, with shaggy eyebrows and brown beards; Ezra's was short, +Joel's long, and Samuel's streaked with gray. They owned the flocks +which they tended. Dahvid was a boy with ruddy cheeks, bright eyes, +and strong lithe limbs. He cared for the flocks of old Abraham. +Abraham was old and rich, and did not work any more, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span>but hired +Dahvid, whose family was very poor, to care for his sheep.</p> + +<p>The flocks of the four shepherds were lying quiet on the plain far +below the city, and near by Samuel, Ezra, Joel, and Dahvid lay wrapped +in their shepherds' cloaks.</p> + +<p>"Samuel," said Dahvid, rising upon his elbow.</p> + +<p>"What is it, Dahvid?" asked the other in a deep voice.</p> + +<p>"Are you not glad that you tend sheep in Bethlehem instead of some +distant place?"</p> + +<p>"Why, Dahvid?" asked Samuel sleepily.</p> + +<p>"Because it is in Bethlehem that the King we have been looking for so +long is to be born. I have been reading it in the prophets only +today."</p> + +<p>"Have you only just heard of that?" asked Ezra sourly.</p> + +<p>"No," replied the boy hotly. "I have heard my mother tell of it ever +since I can remember, and I have read it over and over again. Samuel!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Dahvid?"</p> + +<p>"Do you think we shall ever see the promised King?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know, my boy," the older man answered sadly. "We have waited +long, and there seems little hope for Israel now. But he will come +some day, he will come some day. Why do you ask, Dahvid?"</p> + +<p>"I cannot tell. It is often in my mind. Something makes me think of it +tonight. Perhaps it is because I read of him today. Samuel, I would +walk to the end of the earth to see the Christ-child."</p> + +<p>"Well, you need not start now," grumbled Ezra, and Joel added roughly, +"Go to sleep, boy, the hour is late."</p> + +<p>It was much later before Dahvid fell asleep, for his <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span>head was full of +dreams, and the stories of wonderful days to come that his mother had +told him. But at length he joined the rest in healthy slumber.</p> + +<p>Suddenly it seemed to each of them that something had passed over him, +and touched him lightly on the cheek. The older men raised themselves +on their elbows, but Dahvid sprang to his feet. At first they saw only +a great light, which nearly blinded them, then they discerned a +shining form in the sky, and heard a voice saying: "Be not afraid; for +behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy which shall be to all +the people; for there is born to you this day in the city of David a +Saviour, who is Christ the Lord. And this is the sign unto you: Ye +shall find a babe wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger."</p> + +<p>And then all the sky was full of light, and the air was full of +heavenly voices, singing, "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth +peace, good will toward men."</p> + +<p>While the shepherds listened, half joyful, half afraid, the light +faded and the voices floated away—"Good will to men—to men—to men," +and all was still as before. For a moment the shepherds looked at each +other in silent awe and wonder. Then Ezra spoke in a voice dry with +fear. "What was it?"</p> + +<p>Dahvid stood speechless, and Samuel answered reverently, "Angels."</p> + +<p>"Brothers," he continued, "a wonderful thing has happened to us. It +has been a long, long day since angels have spoken to men."</p> + +<p>Then he girded his shepherd's cloak about him and seized his staff. +"Come, Ezra, Joel, Dahvid, let us be going."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span>"Going—where?" asked Ezra and Joel.</p> + +<p>"Why, to Bethlehem to see the Child. Did not the angel tell us the +sign? Let us go at once to find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes +and lying in a manger."</p> + +<p>"There be many mangers in Bethlehem," objected Ezra.</p> + +<p>"I know not how we shall find him," said Joel. "It is a vain search, I +fear," and he drew his cloak about him and reached for his staff, "but +I will go with you if you say."</p> + +<p>So they started, Samuel, Ezra, and Joel—but Dahvid stood still.</p> + +<p>"Come, Dahvid, make haste!" called Samuel.</p> + +<p>But the boy did not move.</p> + +<p>"I cannot go," he said.</p> + +<p>"Cannot go!" cried Samuel in amazement; and Ezra added, "Who said but +a little while ago that he would go to the end of the earth to see the +King?"</p> + +<p>"And so I would," cried Dahvid; "but the sheep—we cannot leave the +sheep alone."</p> + +<p>"The sheep will be safe enough," said Samuel. "The dogs will keep them +together. There are no wolves tonight. Come, Dahvid."</p> + +<p>But the boy was firm. "There is my master; he'll be angry if I leave +his flocks alone."</p> + +<p>"Old Abraham will never know," said Joel.</p> + +<p>"Abraham is a hard master," said Dahvid. "Many a time I have felt his +heavy staff on my back. But it is not that which keeps me. I have +given him my word that, come day, come night, come life, come death, I +will not fail to keep the flocks. Go on without me; I must keep my +word. Go on."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span>So they went on, impatient and eager for this wondrous quest, Ezra +and Joel muttering now and then at the obstinacy of the boy, but +Samuel full of glowing admiration. Dahvid watched them as they moved +up the hill. That dream of finding the Christ-child—how could he give +it up? Once he started forward: "I will go!" But something held him +back, and he threw himself on the ground and kept back tears of bitter +disappointment. After a time he grew calmer, and found a certain +comfort in thinking of the helplessness of his flock.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the low growling of his dog brought him to his feet. But he +saw nothing, heard nothing, and bade the dog be still. In a moment, +with a bark of alarm, the dog was up again and away. Dahvid sprang up, +certain now that danger was near. There was panic in the flock. Toward +the wilderness he could see lean, gray forms, moving stealthily and +swiftly among the sheep. Wolves! Springing upon a rock, and waving his +cloak in circles about his head, he uttered the familiar call which +gathered the sheep about him, his own sheep nearest, and behind them +the flocks of Samuel, Ezra, and Joel. The wolves made off and Dahvid +quickly looked over his flock to see if all were there—for the +Eastern shepherd knows his sheep by name.</p> + +<p>One by one he named them, with an increasing feeling of relief. They +were all there. No! One was missing—Ke-barbara, the pet of the flock. +Ke-barbara means striped, and the little sheep was so called because +of the dark marking of her fleece. After waving his staff over the +huddled beasts, and uttering a few times the soothing cry, "Hoo-o-o, +ta-a-a! hoo-o-o, ta-a-a!" he rushed off in the direction which the +wolves had taken. At the top <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span>of the steep bank, at the edge of the +pasture, he stopped and called, "Ke-barbara! Ke-barbara!" and for +answer heard an anguished bleat from the rocks below.</p> + +<p>It was a steep and slippery way, but Dahvid plunged down with no +thought of anything but the sheep. Loose stones gave way and he lost +his footing. At the bottom he picked himself up unhurt, and there +beside him were two wolves quarreling over the wounded sheep. One of +them slunk away at sight of the boy, but the other had a taste of +blood and sprang at Dahvid, missing his throat but sinking his teeth +into his leg. Then Dahvid, as the beast turned to spring again, struck +him a heavy blow on the head with his staff and killed him. His own +wounds were bleeding and painful, but he turned at once with caressing +words to the sheep.</p> + +<p>"Ke-barbara, they have hurt you, little sheep! But they have not +killed you! I reached you just in time. You cannot walk; can you? And +I am afraid I cannot carry you. But I can help. There, put your head +on my arm." He groaned with pain. "No, the other one." So he talked to +her, as to a child, as the wounded boy and the wounded sheep slowly +made their way up the steep hillside and over the rough rocks. It was +not a long way, and, half an hour before, the sturdy shepherd lad +would have bounded over it quickly enough. But now the wounded leg was +slow, the wounded arm was weak, and the wounded lamb seemed very +heavy. It was a weary journey, with many stops. When at last they +reached the flock, still huddled trembling together, Dahvid had only +strength to give one reassuring "Hoo-o-o, ta-a-a," then fell +exhausted.</p> + +<p>How long he lay there he did not know, but the dawn <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span>was growing +bright when three men appeared from the direction of the town. It was +not the shepherds, but old Abraham and two of his servants. As the old +man caught sight of his flock, but he saw no shepherd, he raged with +anger. "Dahvid!" he shouted fiercely. "Dahvid!" There was no answer.</p> + +<p>"The young vagabond! He has left the sheep. Of great worth are his +promises! He would keep my flock. 'Come life—come death!' Dahvid! Let +me once find him and I will give him something he will remember longer +than he does his vows."</p> + +<p>As he drew near the flock he discovered the boy lying on the ground. +"Ah, asleep is he? and the sun this high! Come, get up!" he shouted +fiercely, and lifted his staff to strike. But, as he did so he caught +sight of the white face and the bleeding arm, and noticed the wounded +sheep. Old Abraham dropped his angry arm, and there was a touch of +tenderness that was strange to him, as he continued: "Ah, Dahvid, boy! +You did not forget your promises; did you, Dahvid? And I would have +struck you! Forgive me, my lad." Then, turning to his servants, he +gave them command: "Take him to the inn and bid them care for him. I, +myself, will keep the flock today."</p> + +<p>The servants bowed low, "The inn is full, my lord."</p> + +<p>Old Abraham commanded again positively, "Take him to the inn, I say."</p> + +<p>"But the inn is full, my lord," replied the older servant, trembling.</p> + +<p>Then the other servant spoke, "There is perhaps room in the stable, my +lord."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span>"Then bear him thither, and bid them give him the best of care. Go at +once."</p> + +<p>So the servants bore Dahvid away, still unconscious from his wounds +and made him comfortable on a bed of straw in the stable of the inn.</p> + +<p>It was some hours before he came to himself. When at last he opened +his eyes, and his ears began to catch once more the sounds about him, +the first thing he heard was a faint cry.</p> + +<p>"What is that?" he asked eagerly of Samuel, who was watching beside +him.</p> + +<p>"That," said the old shepherd, in tones of mingled joy and reverence, +"is the Child the angels told us about, the Child we came to see. We +found him here in the stable, in a manger."</p> + +<p>"And I am not to see him?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, you are," said Samuel, and a grave-faced man brought the Child +and laid Him in Dahvid's arms, the Child for whose coming the people +had been longing for a thousand years.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>The color at length came back to Dahvid's white cheeks and strength +and health to his limbs and he went back again to the plain. Old +Abraham embraced him, "Forgive me, my son. I have been a hard master. +Thou hast been very faithful, and for thy reward I make thee lord over +all my flocks and half of them shall be thine own."</p> + +<p>So Dahvid became a man of flocks, and all his days he was known among +the other shepherds as the one <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span>who had held the Christ-child in his +arms. And there was none among them who was thought so brave, and +gentle, and wise as the <i>Shepherd Who Didn't Go</i>.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_15" id="Footnote_15"></a><a href="#FNanchor_15"><span class="label">*</span></a> Reprinted by permission from "The City that Never Was +Reached," by Jay T. Stocking; published by the Pilgrim Press.</p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span></p> +<h3>PAULINA'S CHRISTMAS<a name="FNanchor_16" id="FNanchor_16"></a><a href="#Footnote_16" class="fnanchor">*</a></h3> + +<h4><span class="smcap">A Story of Russian Life. Adapted from Anna Robinson's <i>Little Paulina</i></span></h4> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span>One day, in Russia, there was a heavy snowstorm. The snow was deep on +the ground; and in the forest the branches of the trees bent under its +weight.</p> + +<p>In this forest a little girl was struggling along. There was no path +for her to follow, for the snow covered all the paths. The little +girl's name was Paulina. She was dressed in a long fur coat, and she +wore a cap and mittens and gaiters of fur, so that she looked more +like a little furry animal than a little girl. She kept tramping +along, not a bit afraid, when suddenly she heard a call for help.</p> + +<p>"Help! Help!" the call came.</p> + +<p>"Coming, coming!" she called back. She went in the direction of the +voice and soon she saw a man making his way toward her. His dress was +that of a peasant.</p> + +<p>"Will you please direct me out of this forest, little one?" he asked. +"You probably know the paths about."</p> + +<p>"No, I am a stranger here," Paulina answered. "I live in Kief—that +is, I did live there; but I am on my way to my father."</p> + +<p>"Where is your father?" asked the man.</p> + +<p>"He is in Siberia. They banished him."</p> + +<p>"But, little one," said the stranger, "that is a terrible place for a +child to go to. That frozen country, where wicked people are sent!"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span>"O, yes,—but my father is there, you know," said Paulina.</p> + +<p>"Who is your father?" the man asked.</p> + +<p>The little girl was about to tell him, when she noticed a look of +interest on the stranger's face, so she said,</p> + +<p>"Did you say that you had lost your way in the forest? Do you live far +from here?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, very far. I am lost, and am nearly perishing from hunger and +cold. How far is it to the next village?"</p> + +<p>"They told me it was some miles on," said the child. "But I will take +you back to the woodsman's cottage where I spent the night. The woman +is a kind-hearted person, and I am sure she will give you shelter."</p> + +<p>"That is kind of you, little one," said the stranger, "but you will be +hindering your own journey if you do that."</p> + +<p>"I know that my father would want me to show a kindness, even though +it did put me back some," Paulina said.</p> + +<p>"You must have a good father, to give you such training. Why did the +Emperor send him into exile?" the stranger asked her.</p> + +<p>"O, my father had enemies who lied to the Emperor—and there was no +chance given to my father to explain. So the Emperor sent him away to +Siberia,—and I am trying to find my way there to him."</p> + +<p>While they walked through the forest, the stranger told Paulina about +his own little daughter who was expecting him to spend Christmas with +her. At last they reached the woodsman's hut. The woman greeted them +kindly, and while Paulina went into another room to help <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span>her prepare +the evening meal, the stranger was left warming himself by the fire, +and rocking the cradle.</p> + +<p>Once Paulina thought she heard voices, as if the stranger were talking +to someone; but when she went back, she found him alone, still warming +his hands and rocking the cradle with his foot.</p> + +<p>That night the stranger slept on the floor in front of the fire—there +was no other place for him; but he was glad to be safe from the storm +outside.</p> + +<p>Early in the morning, the two started out through the forest again. +They must hurry, if they were to reach the next village before +darkness fell. The storm had passed over, and the day was cold and +clear. A beautiful winter's day. The little girl and the stranger +reached the village on the other side of the forest early in the +afternoon, and there before them they saw a beautiful sleigh drawn by +four horses. There were four servants standing near.</p> + +<p>"What a lovely sleigh!" exclaimed Paulina.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I wonder where they are going. I will ask them," the stranger +said. He went nearer the men and spoke to them.</p> + +<p>"We are driving for our master to Igorhof," they said.</p> + +<p>"Why, that is where my daughter is. If I might only ride with you, I +could spend Christmas with her. Tomorrow is Christmas day, you know. +And, little one, you could spend Christmas with us, too."</p> + +<p>"O, no," said Paulina. "I could not take the time. I must hurry on to +my father. But it would be lovely if we could only ride in this +beautiful sleigh."</p> + +<p>"You could spend the night with us, and then we <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span>could set you on your +way, because you have been so kind to me," the man told her.</p> + +<p>The servants were willing to let them ride in the beautiful sleigh, +and soon they were speeding over the snow toward the great city. Once, +the stranger took a scarf from a pocket on the side of the sleigh and +threw it about his neck. Paulina frowned, and promptly placed it back +in the pocket.</p> + +<p>"It isn't right for you to touch anything in the sleigh. It belongs to +someone else. I am beginning to fear that you may not be an honest +man," she said gravely.</p> + +<p>The stranger laughed at her, but he did not take the scarf again. They +sped on over the snow until, as darkness fell, they reached the city. +Soon they entered a large courtyard, and the stranger took Paulina's +hand and led her into a narrow passageway, and up a small winding +stairway.</p> + +<p>"Where are you taking me?" asked Paulina. "I feel almost sure now, +that you are not an honest man. I think that you may even be a thief!"</p> + +<p>The man laughed again.</p> + +<p>"No, I am an honest man. You will believe me when you see my little +daughter. I trusted you in the forest. Now you trust me."</p> + +<p>He led her into a large room, and they sat down upon a sofa.</p> + +<p>"We will wait here until my daughter comes," he said.</p> + +<p>Soon the door opened, and a beautiful little girl, about as large as +Paulina, came toward them. She looked puzzled when she saw the +rough-looking man with the little girl. She went close to the stranger +and looked into his face.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span>"It <i>is</i> my father!" she cried, and threw her arms around his neck.</p> + +<p>"But why are you dressed like a peasant? Has there been an accident? +And who is this little stranger?"</p> + +<p>The man took her on his lap and told her how his sleigh had been +overturned in the storm, and how he had found his way to a peasant's +hut, where they had given him dry clothes to put on, and how he had +started out alone to find his way through the forest; and how he was +nearly perishing with cold and hunger when this little girl had +rescued him, and how, if it had not been for her, he would have died +in the snow in the forest. He told her how little Paulina was on her +way to Siberia to find her father, and how they went to the woodsman's +hut where a servant had found him, and how he had planned for the +sleigh to meet them on the other side of the forest.</p> + +<p>"O," Paulina interrupted him, "then there was somebody talking with +you when we were preparing the evening meal?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and everything came out just as I had planned. And do you know, +little daughter, this Paulina would not let me put my own scarf around +my neck. She thought that I was a thief. She is an honest little girl. +But she will not tell me her name. She does not trust me."</p> + +<p>"But why should I trust you, when you will not tell me who you are, or +anything about yourself?" Paulina asked.</p> + +<p>"Do trust my father, Paulina. I'm sure he can help you. He will tell +you who he is soon, I know," the beautiful little girl said.</p> + +<p>"Yes, little one," the stranger said. "I know someone who could speak +to the Emperor about your father, and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span>perhaps he could be pardoned. +Please tell me your name; and then before you go away I will answer +any questions about myself you may ask me."</p> + +<p>"Do tell my father, Paulina," the little girl urged.</p> + +<p>Paulina threw her arms about the stranger's knees.</p> + +<p>"O, if you could only get the Emperor to pardon him.—But I do not ask +for a <i>pardon</i>—he has done nothing to be pardoned for. All that I ask +is that he may have justice done him. My father is Vladimir Betzkoi."</p> + +<p>The stranger frowned, and then he whispered,</p> + +<p>"There must be some mistake. He must be a good man to have such an +honest little daughter." Then he said to Paulina,</p> + +<p>"Do you believe now that I am an honest man, since you have seen my +daughter?"</p> + +<p>"O, yes, indeed I do. You couldn't help being good and honest. She is +so beautiful. I think her face is like what a queen's should be," +Paulina answered eagerly.</p> + +<p>The stranger and his little daughter smiled, and the man said,</p> + +<p>"Well, I believe that your father is an honest man since I have seen +you. And I can tell you now, I <i>know</i> he will be pardoned."</p> + +<p>"Tell her, father, tell the little Paulina who you are," his daughter +whispered.</p> + +<p>"Until your father returns to you, little one, you must stay here and +I will be a father to you—as I am father to all the people of Russia, +for <i>I am the Emperor!</i>"</p> + +<p>Just then the bells began ringing, and voices outside <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span>began +singing,—for it was the beginning of Christmas morning. And Paulina +said,</p> + +<p>"This is the happiest Christmas morning I have ever known."</p> + + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_16" id="Footnote_16"></a><a href="#FNanchor_16"><span class="label">*</span></a> By permission—Copyright, 1912, by Sturgis & Walton +Company.</p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span></p> +<h3>UNTO US A CHILD IS BORN</h3> + +<h4><span class="smcap">As Told by Phebe A. Curtiss at a "White Gift" Service</span></h4> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span>It was in the little town of Bethlehem, with its white walls and +narrow streets, that a wonderful thing happened many, many years ago. +The whole aspect of the place had been completely transformed, and +instead of the quiet which usually existed there, confusion reigned. +The little town was crowded full of people. All day long men, women +and children had been pouring in companies into it until every +available place was full. It had something to do with the payment of +taxes, and the people had come from far and near in response to the +call of those in authority.</p> + +<p>Many of them were staying with relatives and friends, and every door +had been opened to receive those who came. There were not many places +where the public could go to stay in those days, and the ones that +there were had been already filled.</p> + +<p>Just as the shadows were closing down around the hill, an interesting +little group found its way up the winding path through the orchards, +touched as they were by the sunset coloring, and into the gate of the +city. The man, seemingly about fifty years of age, walked with slow +and measured tread. He had a black beard, lightly sprinkled with gray, +and he carried in his hand a staff, which served him in walking and +also in persuading the donkey he was leading to move a little more +rapidly.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span>It was plain to see that the errand he had come on was an important +one, both from the care with which he was dressed and from the anxious +look which now and then spread over his face.</p> + +<p>Upon the donkey's back sat a woman, and your attention would have been +directed to her at once if you could have been there. She was +marvelously beautiful. She was very young—just at that interesting +period between girlhood and womanhood, when the charm is so great.</p> + +<p>Her eyes were large and blue and they were a prominent feature in the +face that was absolutely perfect in contour and coloring.</p> + +<p>She wore an outer robe of a dull woolen stuff which covered the blue +garment worn underneath—the garment which indicated that she was a +virgin. Over her head and around her neck she wore the customary white +veil or "wimple."</p> + +<p>As the donkey jogged along, stopping now and then to nibble at the +bushes on either side, she sat calmly looking out upon the +surroundings. Once in a while she would draw aside her veil and her +beautiful eyes would lift themselves to heaven with a look of rapture +and adoration in them, which was wonderful to see.</p> + +<p>As they drew nearer to the town the look of anxiety upon the face of +the man deepened, for he began to realize more and more the crowded +condition of the place they were approaching. The hurry and bustle and +confusion made themselves felt far beyond the bounds of the town +itself.</p> + +<p>They seemed to be strangers—at least they did not have relatives or +friends to whom they could turn; and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span>the man started at once to make +his way to the inn or "kahn," as it was called in those days.</p> + +<p>This inn was a quadrangular building made of rough stones. It was one +story high, with a flat roof, and it had not a single window. All +around it was a high wall, built of rocks; and the space between that +wall and the building made a safe enclosure for the animals.</p> + +<p>The thing about these inns that would surprise you or me today was the +way in which the business connected with them was run. There was no +charge made for staying there, but safe lodging was freely given. Each +company which came brought its own bedding, its own food and +everything they needed to use in cooking. A resting place and safe +protection were all that were offered. The inn was in charge of one +caretaker. There were no other servants.</p> + +<p>As the traveler, whose name was Joseph, drew near he found to his +dismay that he could not even make his way through the crowd to the +gate keeper, who was guarding the one entrance to the inn.</p> + +<p>He decided to leave Mary, his wife, in the company of a family with +whom he had been talking while he made an effort to gain entrance.</p> + +<p>When at last he reached the man in charge, he found it was just as he +had feared. The inn was full—there was no room for them there.</p> + +<p>In vain he urged; he told of his own line of ancestors; of the noble +line from which his wife descended. The answer was always the same: +"There is no room."</p> + +<p>At last he pleaded for Mary, his wife. He told the man in charge that +she was not strong, that she had come a long, long way and was very +tired; and urged that some <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span>place be found for her. He feared the +results if she should be compelled to stay in the open all night.</p> + +<p>So earnestly he pleaded his case that at last the man said, "I have no +room and yet I cannot turn you away; come with me and I will find you +a place in the stable."</p> + +<p>Joseph then found Mary and they and the ones with whom she had been +tarrying went together to the stable and there made themselves +comfortable for the night.</p> + +<p>This was not at all the cross to them that it would seem to you today. +It was a very common thing indeed for people to stay in the stables +when the inn was full. And then, too, you must remember that they were +descended from a long line of shepherds. They naturally loved the +animals and did not feel at all badly to sleep where they had been, or +even in very close company with them.</p> + +<p>We can imagine that it was with very thankful hearts they lay down to +rest that night.</p> + +<p>There was a company of men, asleep in the pasture lands at some little +distance from Bethlehem, on the slope of the hill. They were +shepherds. They had cared for their sheep and after that all but one +of them had lain down to sleep. It was their custom for all of the +number to watch while the others slept. They were wrapped in their +great, warm shepherd's cloaks, for the air was chilly at that season. +All at once a strange thing happened. It began to grow very light, and +the one who was watching could not understand. He spoke to the others +and they sprang to their feet.</p> + +<p>Brighter and brighter shone the light until it was like the day, and +you can imagine that the shepherds were startled. They could not +speak, so great was their aston<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span>ishment; but as they drew closer +together they heard a voice coming out of the light. The voice said, +"Be not afraid. Behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which +shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day, in the city of +David, a Saviour which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign +unto you; ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes lying in +a manger."</p> + +<p>And then there were with this angel, who spoke, many other angels; and +they sang, praising God, saying, "Glory to God in the highest, and on +earth peace, good will toward men."</p> + +<p>They sang it again and again until the heavens fairly rang with it.</p> + +<p>For a while after the beautiful song had died away and the light had +failed, the shepherds stood with bowed heads. Then each one gathered +his cloak around him and took his staff in his hand and they started +together to find the place and the Child about which they had heard.</p> + +<p>Hastening into Bethlehem they came to the inn and found Joseph and +Mary, and the babe, lying in the manger, just as the angel said they +would. They worshipped the Child and returned to their duties, +praising God and glorifying Him.</p> + +<p>After that Joseph and Mary went away to another place and took the +child Jesus with them, and many others came to worship Him. Among them +were three Wise Men who had come from separate places and all from a +great distance.</p> + +<p>They followed the star which was set in the heavens to guide them and +they too found the One they sought.</p> + +<p>As they came into the place where He was, each one <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span>bowed in worship +and they laid before Him the gifts they had brought—gold, +frankincense and myrrh.</p> + +<p>What a wonderful story it is, and how our hearts swell with love as we +think about it! It is fitting that tonight we should dwell upon it, +for we, too, have come to worship our King. It is His birthday and we +have come together to bring Him our gifts. We have brought "white +gifts" because they are the expression of our pure, unselfish love.</p> + +<p>The Wise Men brought gold, and we have brought our gifts of +<i>substance</i>—money and food and clothing and things that will help to +make others comfortable and happy.</p> + +<p>The Wise Men brought frankincense, and we bring gifts of <i>service</i>; +for each one of us desires to do some one thing all during the year +that will make for good and make us worthy followers of Him.</p> + +<p>The Wise Men brought myrrh, and we bring devotion; for we bring the +gift of <i>self</i>. If we have not already given ourselves to the Master, +we want to do so now; and if we have done so, we want to reconsecrate +our lives to Him.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span></p> +<h3>THE STAR<a name="FNanchor_17" id="FNanchor_17"></a><a href="#Footnote_17" class="fnanchor">*</a></h3> + +<h4><span class="smcap">By Florence M. Kingsley</span></h4> + + +<p>Once upon a time in a country far away from here, there lived a little +girl named Ruth. Ruth's home was not at all like our houses, for she +lived in a little tower on top of the great stone wall that surrounded +the town of Bethlehem. Ruth's father was the hotel-keeper—the Bible +says the "inn keeper." This inn was not at all like our hotels, +either. There was a great open yard, which was called the courtyard. +All about this yard were little rooms and each traveler who came to +the hotel rented one. The inn stood near the great stone wall of the +city, so that as Ruth stood, one night, looking out of the tower +window, she looked directly into the courtyard. It was truly a strange +sight that met her eyes. So many people were coming to the inn, for +the King had made a law that every man should come back to the city +where his father used to live to be counted and to pay his taxes. Some +of the people came on the backs of camels, with great rolls of bedding +and their dishes for cooking upon the back of the beast. Some of them +came on little donkeys, and on their backs too were the bedding and +the dishes. Some of the people came walking—slowly; they were so +tired. Many miles some of them had come. As Ruth looked down into the +courtyard, she saw the camels being led to their places by their +masters, she heard the snap of the whips, she saw the sparks shoot up +from the fires that were kindled in the courtyard, where each per<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span>son +was preparing his own supper; she heard the cries of the tired, hungry +little children.</p> + +<p>Presently her mother, who was cooking supper, came over to the window +and said, "Ruthie, thou shalt hide in the house until all those people +are gone. Dost thou understand?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, my mother," said the child, and she left the window to follow +her mother back to the stove, limping painfully, for little Ruth was a +cripple. Her mother stooped suddenly and caught the child in her arms.</p> + +<p>"My poor little lamb. It was a mule's kick, just six years ago, that +hurt your poor back and made you lame."</p> + +<p>"Never mind, my mother. My back does not ache today, and lately when +the light of the strange new star has shone down upon my bed my back +has felt so much stronger and I have felt so happy, as though I could +climb upon the rays of the star and up, up into the sky and above the +stars!"</p> + +<p>Her mother shook her head sadly. "Thou art not likely to climb much, +now or ever, but come, the supper is ready; let us go to find your +father. I wonder what keeps him."</p> + +<p>They found the father standing at the gate of the courtyard, talking +to a man and woman who had just arrived. The man was tall, with a long +beard, and he led by a rope a snow white mule, on which sat the +drooping figure of the woman. As Ruth and her mother came near, they +heard the father say, "But I tell thee that there is no more room in +the inn. Hast thou no friends where thou canst go to spend the night?" +The man shook his head. "No, none," he answered. "I care not for +myself, but my poor wife." Little Ruth pulled at her mother's <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span>dress. +"Mother, the oxen sleep out under the stars these warm nights and the +straw in the caves is clean and warm; I have made a bed there for my +little lamb."</p> + +<p>Ruth's mother bowed before the tall man. "Thou didst hear the child. +It is as she says—the straw is clean and warm." The tall man bowed +his head. "We shall be very glad to stay," and he helped the +sweet-faced woman down from the donkey's back and led her away to the +cave stable, while the little Ruth and her mother hurried up the +stairs that they might send a bowl of porridge to the sweet-faced +woman, and a sup of new milk, as well.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>That night when little Ruth lay down in her bed, the rays of the +beautiful new star shone through the window more brightly than before. +They seemed to soothe the tired aching shoulders. She fell asleep and +dreamed that the beautiful, bright star burst and out of it came +countless angels, who sang in the night:</p> + +<p>"Glory to God in the highest, peace on earth, good will to men." And +then it was morning and her mother was bending over her and saying, +"Awake, awake, little Ruth. Mother has something to tell thee." Then +as the eyes opened slowly—"The angels came in the night, little one, +and left a Baby to lay beside your little white lamb in the manger."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>That afternoon, Ruth went with her mother to the fountain. The mother +turned aside to talk to the other women of the town about the strange +things heard and seen the night before, but Ruth went on and sat down +by the edge of the fountain. The child, was not frightened, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span>for +strangers came often to the well, but never had she seen men who +looked like the three who now came towards her. The first one, a tall +man with a long white beard, came close to Ruth and said, "Canst tell +us, child, where is born he that is called the King of the Jews?"</p> + +<p>"I know of no king," she answered, "but last night while the star was +shining, the angels brought a baby to lie beside my white lamb in the +manger." The stranger bowed his head. "That must be he. Wilt thou show +us the way to Him, my child?" So Ruth ran and her mother led the three +men to the cave and "when they saw the Child, they rejoiced with +exceeding great joy, and opening their gifts, they presented unto Him +gold, and frankincense and myrrh," with wonderful jewels, so that +Ruth's mother's eyes shone with wonder, but little Ruth saw only the +Baby, which lay asleep on its mother's breast.</p> + +<p>"If only I might hold Him in my arms," she thought, but was afraid to +ask.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>After a few days, the strangers left Bethlehem, all but the three—the +man, whose name was Joseph, and Mary, his wife, and the Baby. Then, as +of old, little Ruth played about the courtyard and the white lamb +frolicked at her side. Often she dropped to her knees to press the +little woolly white head against her breast, while she murmured: "My +little lamb, my very, very own. I love you, lambie," and then together +they would steal over to the entrance of the cave to peep in at the +Baby, and always she thought, "If I only might touch his hand," but +was afraid to ask. One night as she lay in her bed, she thought to +herself: "Oh, I wish I had a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span>beautiful gift for him, such as the wise +men brought, but I have nothing at all to offer and I love him so +much." Just then the light of the star, which was nightly fading, fell +across the foot of the bed and shone full upon the white lamb which +lay asleep at her feet—and then she thought of something. The next +morning she arose with her face shining with joy. She dressed +carefully and with the white lamb held close to her breast, went +slowly and painfully down the stairway and over to the door of the +cave. "I have come," she said, "to worship Him, and I have brought +Him—my white lamb." The mother smiled at the lame child, then she +lifted the Baby from her breast and placed Him in the arms of the +little maid who knelt at her feet.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>A few days after, an angel came to the father, Joseph, and told him to +take the Baby and hurry to the land of Egypt, for the wicked King +wanted to do it harm, and so these three—the father, mother and +Baby—went by night to the far country of Egypt. And the star grew +dimmer and dimmer and passed away forever from the skies over +Bethlehem, but little Ruth grew straight and strong and beautiful as +the almond trees in the orchard, and all the people who saw her were +amazed, for Ruth was once a cripple.</p> + +<p>"It was the light of the strange star," her mother said, but little +Ruth knew it was the touch of the blessed Christ-Child, who was once +folded against her heart.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_17" id="Footnote_17"></a><a href="#FNanchor_17"><span class="label">*</span></a> Used by permission of the author and the publishers, +Henry Altemus Company.</p></div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Christmas Stories And Legends, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHRISTMAS STORIES AND LEGENDS *** + +***** This file should be named 17770-h.htm or 17770-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/7/7/17770/ + +Produced by Stacy Brown Thellend, Barbara Tozier, Bill +Tozier 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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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 Stories And Legends + +Author: Various + +Release Date: February 16, 2006 [EBook #17770] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHRISTMAS STORIES AND LEGENDS *** + + + + +Produced by Stacy Brown Thellend, Barbara Tozier, Bill +Tozier and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + +CHRISTMAS STORIES +AND LEGENDS + + +COMPILED BY +PHEBE A. CURTISS + +Author of "White Gifts +for the King" + + + + +MEIGS PUBLISHING CO. +INDIANAPOLIS, IND. + + +Copyright 1916 + +BY + +MEIGS PUBLISHING CO. +Indianapolis, Indiana + + + + +FOREWORD + + +No greater teaching force has ever been discovered than the story and +no one has ever lived who used that force so skillfully as did our +Great Teacher. + +It is not strange, then, that among all the stories that have ever +been written or told none are so dear to us as the stories and legends +which center in His birth. + +Young and old alike delight in them and never tire of hearing them. + +Unusual care has been taken in compiling this little volume and each +story has its own sweet lesson. Each one is from the pen of one who +has imbibed the real spirit of Christmas. They were chosen as being +particularly well adapted to use in connection with the Christmas +Service "White Gifts for the King," but they will prove attractive and +helpful at any time during the year. + +It is our earnest wish that this little book may find its way into +many homes and schools and Sunday Schools and that its contents may +help to give a deeper appreciation of the true Christmas spirit. + + + + +CONTENTS + + Page + I. The Legend of the "White Gifts"--Phebe A. Curtiss 9 + + II. Her Birthday Dream--Nellie C. King 13 + + III. The Fir Tree--Hans Andersen--adapted by J. H. Stickney 25 + + IV. The Little Match Girl--Hans Andersen 37 + + V. Little Piccola--Nora A. Smith 41 + + VI. The Shepherd's Story--Dr. Washington 47 + + VII. The Story of Christmas--Nora A. Smith 63 + + VIII. The Legend of the Christmas Tree--Lucy Wheelock 69 + + IX. Little Jean--French of Francois Coppe. Translated by + Nannie Lee Frayser 71 + + X. How the Fir Tree Became the Christmas Tree--Aunt Hede + in Kindergarten Magazine 77 + + XI. The Magi in the West and Their Search for the + Christ--Frederick E. Dewhurst 79 + + XII. Little Gretchen and the Wooden Shoe--Elizabeth + Harrison 93 + + XIII. The Little Shepherd--Maud Lindsay 105 + + XIV. Babouscka--Carolyn S. Bailey 109 + + XV. The Boy with the Box--May Griggs Van Voorhis 113 + + XVI. The Worker in Sandal wood--Marjorie L. C. Pickthall 125 + + XVII. The Shepherd Who Didn't Go--Jay T. Stocking 135 + +XVIII. Paulina's Christmas--Adapted from Anna Robinson's + "Little Paulina" 145 + + XIX. Unto Us a Child Is Born--Phebe A. Curtiss 153 + + XX. The Star--Florence M. Kingsley 159 + + + + +THE LEGEND OF THE "WHITE GIFTS" + +As Told by Phebe A. Curtiss + + +A great many years ago in a land far away from us there was a certain +king who was dearly beloved by all of his people. Men admired him +because he was strong and just. In all of his dealings they knew they +could depend upon him. Every matter that came to his consideration was +carefully weighed in his mind and his decisions were always wise. +Women trusted him because he was pure and true, with lofty thoughts +and high ambitions, and the children loved him because of his +gentleness and tenderness toward them. He was never so burdened with +affairs of state that he could not stop to speak a pleasant word of +greeting to the tiniest child, and the very poorest of his subjects +knew they could count upon his interest in them. + +This deep-seated love and reverence for their king made the people of +this country wish very much for a way in which to give expression to +it so that he would understand it. Many consultations were held and +one after another the plans suggested were rejected, but at last a +most happy solution was found. It was rapidly circulated here and +there and it met with the most hearty approval everywhere. + +It was a plan for celebrating the King's birthday. + +Of course, that had been done in many lands before, but there were +certain features about this celebration which differed materially from +anything that had ever been tried. They decided that on the King's +birthday the people should all bring him gifts, but they wanted in +some way to let him know that these gifts were the expression of a +love on the part of the giver which was pure and true and unselfish, +and in order to show that, it was decided that each gift should be a +"White Gift." + +The King heard about this beautiful plan, and it touched his heart in +a wonderful way. He decided that he would do his part to carry out the +idea and let his loving subjects know how much he appreciated their +thoughtfulness. + +You can just imagine the excitement there was all over the land as the +King's birthday drew near. All sorts of loving sacrifices had been +made and everyone was anxious to make his gift the very best he had to +offer. At last the day dawned, and eagerly the people came dressed in +white and carrying their white gifts. To their surprise they were +ushered into a great, big room--the largest one in the palace. They +stood in silence when they first entered it, for it was beautiful +beyond all expression. It was a _white_ room;--the floor was white +marble; the ceiling looked like a mass of soft, white fluffy clouds; +the walls were hung with beautiful white silken draperies, and all the +furnishings were white. In one end of the room stood a stately white +throne, and seated upon it was their beloved ruler and he was clad in +shining white robes, and his attendants--all dressed in white--were +grouped around him. + +Then came the presentation of the gifts. What a wealth of them there +was--and how different they were in value. In those days it was just +as it is now--there were many people who had great wealth, and they +brought gifts which were generous in proportion to their wealth. + +One brought a handful of pearls, another a number of carved ivories. +There were beautiful laces and silks and embroideries, all in pure +white, and even splendid white chargers were brought to his majesty. + +But many of the people were poor--some of them very poor--and their +gifts were quite different from those I have been telling about. Some +of the women brought handfuls of white rice, some of the boys brought +their favorite white pigeons, and one dear little girl smilingly gave +him a pure white rose. + +It was wonderful to watch the King as each one came and kneeled before +him as he presented his gift. He never seemed to notice whether the +gift was great or small; he regarded not one gift above another so +long as all were white. Never had the King been so happy as he was +that day and never had such real joy filled the hearts of the people. +They decided to use the same plan every year, and so it came to pass +that year after year on the King's birthday the people came from here +and there and everywhere and brought their white gifts--the gifts +which showed that their love was pure, strong, true and without stain, +and year after year the King sat in his white robes on the white +throne in the great white room and it was always the same--he regarded +not one gift above another so long as all were _white_. + + + + +HER BIRTHDAY DREAM[*] + +By Nellie C. King + + +Marcia Brownlow came out of the church, and walked rapidly down the +street. She seemed perturbed; her gray eyes flashed, and on her cheeks +glowed two red spots. She was glad she was not going home, so she +wouldn't have to take a car, but could walk the short distance to Aunt +Sophy's, where she had been invited to dine and visit with her special +chum, Cousin Jack--who was home from college for the short +Thanksgiving vacation. She slowed up as she reached her destination, +and waited a little before going in--she wanted to get calmed down a +bit, for she didn't want her friend to see her when she felt so "riled +up." Back of it was a secret reluctance to meet Jack--he was so +different since the Gipsy Smith revival; of course, he was perfectly +lovely, and unchanged toward her, but--somehow, she felt uncomfortable +in his presence--and she didn't enjoy having her self-satisfaction +disturbed. + +As she entered the dining-room, she was greeted with exclamations of +surprise and pleasure. + +"Why, Marcia!" said Aunt Sophia; "we had given you up! I almost never +knew of your being late in keeping an appointment." + +"You must excuse me, Auntie; and lay this offense to the charge of our +Sunday school superintendent," answered Marcia. + +"I suppose Mr. Robinson is laying his plans for Christmas," remarked +Uncle John. "He believes in taking time by the forelock--and a very +commendable habit it is, too." + +"Yes," answered Marcia laconically. + +Jack glanced at her keenly. "Is there anything new in the Christmas +line?" he asked. + +The gray eyes grew black, and the red spots burned again, as Marcia +replied: "Well, I should think so--he proposes to turn things +topsy-turvy!" + +"My! What does he want to do?" inquired Cousin Augusta. + +"Oh, he calls it the 'White Gift Christmas'; but the long and short of +the matter is, that he proposes to 'turn down' Santa Claus, and all +the old time-honored customs connected with Christmas that are so dear +to the hearts of the children, and have the school do the giving. He +has a big banner hung up in the Sunday school room bearing the words, +'Gifts for the Christ-Child'." + +"An excellent idea," exclaimed Uncle John, "but I don't see much of an +innovation about that; you have always made the children's giving a +part of your Christmas celebration, have you not?" + +"Certainly!" rejoined Marcia. "They have always brought their little +gifts for the poor, and that is all right; but this time there are no +gifts to the Sunday school at all." + +"Not even to the Primary School?" asked Augusta. + +"Well," admitted Marcia, "Mr. Robinson gave the children their choice +today, whether they would have the old Christmas or the 'White Gift +Christmas,' and they all voted for the new idea." + +"Why then should the children be obliged to have gifts, if they don't +want them?" laughed Augusta. + +"Oh, children are always taken with novelty, and Mr. Robinson told it +to them in such a way that fancy was captivated; but I don't think +they really understood what they were giving up." + +"Marcia, it seems to me that your are emphasizing the wrong side of +the subject if I understand it aright," said Jack. + +"Why, do you know about it?" asked Marcia, in surprise. + +"Not much," replied Jack; "but I read the White Gift story in the +'Sunday School Times,' and the report of the Painesville experiment." + +"Well, Jack, tell us what you know about this mysterious 'White +Gift'," commanded his father. + +"I would rather Marcia should tell it, father; I know so little." + +"Oh, go on, Jack," urged Marcia; "you can't possibly know less about +it than I do, for I confess I was so full of the disappointment of the +little ones that the other side of it didn't impress me very much." + +"Well, as I remember it," said Jack, "the gist of the plan is +this--that Christmas is Christ's birthday, and we should make our +gifts to him, instead of to one another; and the idea of the White +Gift was suggested by the story of the Persian king named Kublah Khan, +who was a wise and good ruler, and greatly beloved. On his birthday +his subjects kept what they called the 'White Feast.' This was +celebrated in an immense great white banqueting-hall, and each one of +his subjects brought to their king a white gift to express that the +love and loyalty of their hearts was without stain. The rich brought +white chargers, ivory and alabaster; the poor brought white pigeons, +or even a measure of rice; and the great king regarded all gifts +alike, so long as they were white. Have I told it right, cousin?" +queried Jack. + +"Yes, I think so. It is a beautiful thought, I must confess, and might +be all right in a large, rich Sunday school; but in a mission school +like ours I am sure it will be a failure. It will end in our losing +our scholars. I don't believe in taking up new ideas without +considering whether they are adapted to our needs or not. But please, +dear folkses, don't let us say anything more about it," pleaded +Marcia, and so the subject was dropped. + +That evening as Jack Thornton bade his cousin good-bye, he placed in +her hand a little package, saying: "I am so sorry, Marcia, that I +can't be here for your birthday, but here is my remembrance. Now don't +you dare open it before Tuesday, and, dear, you may be sure it is a +'white gift,' and may you have a 'white birthday'." And before she +could say a word, he had opened the door, and was gone. + +Touched by his thoughtful gift and his words, she said to herself: "A +'white birthday!' I always have perfectly beautiful birthdays." And so +she did; for she was always looking out for other people's birthdays, +and making much of them; and so she always got the gospel measure: +"Give, and it shall be given unto you; good measure, pressed down, and +shaken together, and running over, shall man give into your bosom." + +But these thoughts were crowded out by the pressure of things to be +done--father and mother had gone into the country to visit a sick +friend, and the younger brothers and sisters surrounded her and +clamored for songs and Bible stories, and as she was a good older +sister she devoted herself to them until their bedtime. Then, turning +out the lights, she sat down in an easy chair before the library +grate, and yielded herself to the spell of the quiet hour. The +strained, irritated nerves relaxed, and a strange, sweet peace stole +over her. As she gazed dreamily into the fire, a star seemed to rise +out of the glowing coals, and beam at her with a beautiful soft +radiance, and the words of the Evangel came into her mind: "And when +they saw the star, they rejoiced with exceeding joy; and when they +were come into the house they saw the young child, with Mary his +mother, and they fell down and worshipped him; and when they had +opened their treasures they presented unto him gifts, gold, +frankincense and myrrh." She repeated the words over and over to +herself. How simple and restful they were; how direct and genuine and +satisfying was this old-time giving! There it was--Gifts for the +Christ-Child--"They presented unto him gifts, gold, frankincense and +myrrh." She remembered reading somewhere that the gold represented our +earthly possessions, the frankincense typified our service and the +myrrh our suffering for his sake. + +As she gazed into the fire, and mused, she fell asleep, and all these +thoughts were woven into the fabric of a dream--and who shall say that +God does not speak to his children still in dreams? + +She dreamed that it was the morning of her birthday. She heard cheery +voices in the hall calling out to one another: "This is Marcia's +birthday. Wish you many returns of the day!" There was an excited +running to and fro between the different rooms, and gleeful +exclamations--but no one came near her! She sat up in bed listening, +and wondering what it could mean! Why, mother always came into her +room, and folded her to her heart, and said those precious things that +only a mother can say; and the children always scrambled to see who +should be the first to give sister a birthday kiss. Were they playing +some joke on her? She would be quiet and watch, and so not be taken +unawares. + +Presently they went trooping happily downstairs into the dining-room, +and she heard father's voice say: "Good morning, children; I wish you +many happy returns of Marcia's birthday." + +What did it all mean? Was she going crazy? Or were they just going to +surprise her by some novel way of celebrating her birthday? She arose, +and with trembling fingers dressed herself hastily, and stole softly +down the stairs, and looked into the dining-room. Hush!--father was +asking a blessing. He returned thanks for dear Marcia's birthday, and +asked that it should be a happy day for them all. Beside each plate +save her own, were various packages; and these were opened amid +ejaculations of surprise and pleasure, and sundry hugs and kisses. + +After the first burst of happiness had subsided, Marcia braced herself +and entered the dining-room, saying with forced gayety: "Good morning, +dear ones all." They looked up with blank, unanswering faces, and +said: "Good morning, Marcia"--that was all. But Marcia's heart leaped +at the recognition of her presence, for she had begun to fear that she +was dead, and that it was her spirit that was wandering about. + +She stooped and kissed her mother, who murmured abstractedly, "Yes, +dear," never once looking up from the presents she was examining. With +a sinking heart she turned away from her mother and went and stood +behind her father's chair, and leaning over whispered in his ear: +"Dear father, have you forgotten that this is my birthday?" He +answered kindly but absent-mindedly: "Why, daughter, am I likely to +forget it with all these tokens around me?"--and he waved his hand +toward the gifts piled around his plate. This was almost more than +Marcia could bear, for father was always specially tender and +attentive to her on her birthday. She always sat on his knee a while; +and he told her what a joy and comfort she was to him, and he always +paid her some pretty compliment that made her girlish heart swell with +innocent pride, for every girl knows that compliments from one's +father are a little sweeter than any others. + +In vain she hung around waiting for some clue to this mysterious, +unnatural conduct of the family. They were all absorbed in plans for +spending this birthday--Marcia's birthday, but no reference whatever +was made to what she liked; no one consulted her as to what she wanted +to do, or to have done. The boys were going skating in the forenoon; +the little girls were to invite four of their friends to help serve +the first dinner in the new doll's house, and in the afternoon father +would take them all for an automobile ride into the country to a dear +friend's--all but Marcia, who couldn't bear to get into an auto since +a terrible accident she had been in a few weeks ago. A troop of her +girl friends came in, and in a conventional way wished her "many happy +returns" of the day; and then proceeded to ignore her, and gave gifts +to other members of the family. "It is a wonder," thought Marcia, +bitterly, "that they didn't have a birthday party for Marcia with +Marcia left out." + +And so it went on all through that strange, miserable day; while they +were all busy celebrating her birthday, she herself was neglected and +ignored as she sat in the quiet house alone in the twilight--for she +had no heart to light the gas--just homesick for the personal love +which had characterized all her birthdays and all her home life +heretofore, there came a timid knock on the door, and as Marcia opened +it, there stood little crippled Joe, one of her scholars in the +Mission Sunday school. As he saw her, he gave a little exclamation of +surprise and delight, and said: "O Miss Marshay! I hearn last night +'twas yer berthday today, an' I wanted to guv yer suthin' white, like +Mr. Robinson he told us 'bout, don't yer know?--an' 'caus yer has +allers treated me so white--'n'--'n' I didn't hev nuthin', 'n so I +axed Him, ye know, what yer telled us 'bout in Sunday school--Jesus; +who died on the cross, and who's allers willin' to help a poor +feller--an' I axed Him to help me get suthin' real nice 'n' white fer +uer birthday; 'n I kep' me eyes peeled all day 'xpectin' it, 'n just +now a reel swell feller buyed a paper of me, 'n then he guv he this +here bunch uv white sweet smellin' posies, 'thout my sayin' a word. +Here they be, Miss Marshay fer yer. Giminy, teacher, ain't them purty? +An' O, teacher--He made 'm in the fust place 'n had the man guv them +to me, 'n so I reckon He 'n me's pardners in this here white gift +bizness." And he held up in his thin, grimy hand a bunch of white, +sweet-scented violets. + +Marcia's first impulse was to catch up the little fellow and his gift +in her arms, and baptize them with a flood of tears from her own +overcharged heart! But she hadn't taught boys in a Mission Sunday +school class for nothing--Joe would have thought she had gone crazy, +or been struck silly, or was sick unto death; so she controlled +herself, and kneeling beside him took the violets reverently in both +her hands, saying in a choked voice: "Joe, they are just beautiful! +This is the only really truly white gift I have had today, and I don't +deserve it--but I thank Him and you." + +The boy looked at her with shining face, drew his hand across his +eyes, and then answered brightly: "Oh, that's all right, Miss Marshay; +'tenny rate 'tis with me, 'n' I reckon 'tis with Him"--and seizing his +crutch, he hopped like a little sparrow through the door and onto the +street, and she heard his boyish voice calling out: "Evenin' papers, +last edishun--all 'bout the big graft 'sposure." + +Just then the big white touring car discharged its merry load at the +door, and the house was filled with the chatter and laughter of the +children. In vain she tried to find a quiet corner where she could be +alone with her heart--it was impossible to escape from the hilarious +celebration of her birthday. She was so glad when the children said +good-night and went off to bed, and she could seek the quiet of her +own room. + +As she bade her father good night, he said: "Well, daughter, I hope +you have enjoyed your birthday and all your gifts?" + +At this all the honesty of her nature, all the hatred of sham, rose up +in one indignant outburst, and she exclaimed: "I have had no gifts, +neither has this been my birthday celebration." + +"Why, Marcia!" said her father in an aggrieved tone, "this certainly +is your birthday, and we have been very happy in keeping it for love +of you." + +"I have failed to see any manifestation of love to me," retorted +Marcia. "You may have had a happy time, but I have not been in it; you +have given gifts to one another, but I have had just one"--and she +held up the bunch of violets. "This is a gift of love from little lame +Joe, in answer to his prayer, and in pity for my hungry heart." + +There was silence in the room for a moment, and then her father +answered: "It seems to me, daughter, that when you get right down to a +personal application, what you believe in after all is a 'white +birthday'." + +The words went through her like an electric shock, and with a start +she awoke, and sat upright in her chair; and, lo, it was all a dream! + +Marcia looked around the room, shook herself a little, stirred the +fire, and put on fresh coal. She laughed at the remembrance of her +dream, and its absurdity! How glad she was that it was only a dream! +But was it only a dream? Was it not a reality? Was not this the way +she had kept the Lord's birthday? When she had opened her Christmas +treasure, how much had been given Him and for love of Him? How large a +place had she given Him in the season's activity? Had she ever made +room for Him as the central figure of it all; or had he been crowded +out, and His rightful place given to Santa Claus and the world's +merry-making? + +In the light of the Spirit she saw that the Star of Bethlehem always +leads to the cross of Calvary. She had never liked to think about the +cross before, but now it was all illumined with the glory of the love +which gave to us God's best, his only begotten Son. She remembered how +the Lord Jesus had said: "If I be lifted up, I will draw all men unto +Me." She saw that it is as we see Christ on the cross for us that we +are drawn to Him. + +In that still hour, on her knees, at the foot of the cross, Marcia +with great gladness made her first "White Gift" unto her Lord--she +gave HERSELF to Him. + +[*] By permission of the author and the publisher, Pittsburgh +Christian Advocate. + + + + +THE FIR TREE[*] + +Adapted by J. H. Stickney + + +Far away in the forest, where the warm sun and the fresh air made a +sweet resting place, grew a pretty little fir tree. The situation was +all that could be desired; and yet it was not happy, it wished so +much to be like its tall companions, the pines and firs which grew +around it. + +The sun shone, and the soft air fluttered its leaves, and the little +peasant children passed by, prattling merrily; but the fir tree did +not heed them. + +Sometimes the children would bring a large basket of raspberries or +strawberries, wreathed in straws, and seat themselves near the fir +tree, and say, "Is it not a pretty little tree?" which made it feel +even more unhappy than before. + +And yet all this while the tree grew a notch or joint taller every +year; for by the number of joints in the stem of a fir tree we can +discover its age. + +Still, as it grew, it complained: "Oh! how I wish I were as tall as +the other trees; then I would spread out my branches on every side, +and my crown would overlook the wide world around. I should have the +birds building their nests on my boughs, and when the wind blew, I +should bow with stately dignity, like my tall companions." + +So discontented was the tree, that it took no pleasure in the warm +sunshine, the birds, or the rosy clouds that floated over it morning +and evening. + +Sometimes in winter, when the snow lay white and glittering on the +ground, there was a little hare that would come springing along, +and jump right over the little tree's head; then how mortified it +would feel. + +Two winters passed; and when the third arrived, the tree had grown so +tall that the hare was obliged to run round it. Yet it remained +unsatisfied, and would exclaim, "Oh! to grow, to grow; if I could but +keep on growing tall and old! There is nothing else worth caring for +in the world." + +In the autumn the woodcutters came, as usual, and cut down several of +the tallest trees; and the young fir, which was now grown to its full +height, shuddered as the noble trees fell to the earth with a crash. + +After the branches were lopped off, the trunks looked so slender and +bare that they could scarcely be recognized. Then they were placed, +one upon another, upon wagons, and drawn by horses out of the forest. +"Where could they be going? What would become of them?" The young fir +tree wished very much to know. + +So in the spring, when the swallows and the storks came, it asked, "Do +you know where those trees were taken? Did you meet them?" + +The swallows knew nothing; but the stork, after a little reflection, +nodded his head, and said, "Yes, I think I do. As I flew from Egypt, I +saw several new ships, and they had fine masts that smelt like fir. +These must have been the trees; and I assure you they were stately; +they sailed right gloriously!" + +"Oh, how I wish I were tall enough to go on the sea," said the fir +tree. "Tell me what is this sea, and what does it look like?" + +"It would take too much time to explain, a great deal too much," said +the stork, flying quickly away. + +"Rejoice in thy youth," said the sunbeam; "rejoice in thy fresh +growth, and in the young life that is in thee." + +And the wind kissed the tree, and the dew watered it with tears; but +the fir tree regarded them not. + +Christmas time drew near, and many young trees were cut down, some +that were even smaller and younger than the fir tree, who enjoyed +neither rest nor peace with longing to leave its forest home. These +young trees, which were chosen for their beauty, kept their branches, +and were also laid on wagons, and drawn by horses far away out of the +forest. + +"Where are they going?" asked the fir tree. "They are not taller than +I am; indeed, one is not so tall. And why do they keep all their +branches? Where are they going?" + +"We know, we know," sang the sparrows; "we have looked in at the +windows of the houses in the town, and we know what is done with them. +Oh! you cannot think what honor and glory they receive. They are +dressed up in the most splendid manner. We have seen them standing in +the middle of a warm room, and adorned with all sorts of beautiful +things;--honey cakes, gilded apples, playthings, and many hundreds of +wax tapers." + +"And then," asked the fir tree, trembling in all its branches, "and +then what happens?" + +"We did not see any more," said the sparrows; "but this was enough +for us." + +"I wonder whether anything so brilliant will ever happen to me," +thought the fir tree. "It would be better even than crossing the sea. +I long for it almost with pain. Oh, when will Christmas be here? I am +now as tall and well grown as those which were taken away last year. +Oh, that I were now laid on the wagon, or standing in the warm room, +with all that brightness and splendor around me! Something better and +more beautiful is to come after, or the trees would not be so decked +out. Yes, what follows will be grander and more splendid. What can it +be? I am weary with longing. I scarcely know what it is that I feel." + +"Rejoice in our love," said the air and the sunlight. "Enjoy thine own +bright life in the fresh air." + +But the tree would not rejoice, though it grew taller every day and, +winter and summer, its dark green foliage might be seen in the +forests, while passersby would say, "What a beautiful tree!" + +A short time before Christmas the discontented fir tree was the first +to fall. As the axe cut sharply through the stem, and divided the +pith, the tree fell with a groan to the earth, conscious of pain and +faintness, and forgetting all its dreams of happiness, in sorrow at +leaving its home in the forest. It knew that it should never again see +its dear old companions, the trees, nor the little bushes and +many-colored flowers that had grown by its side; perhaps not even the +birds. Nor was the journey at all pleasant. + +The tree first recovered itself while being unpacked in the courtyard +of a house, with several other trees; and it heard a man say, "We +only want one, and this is the prettiest. This is beautiful!" + +Then came two servants in grand livery, and carried the fir tree into +a large and beautiful apartment. Pictures hung on the walls, and near +the great stove stood great china vases, with lions on the lids. There +were rocking chairs, silken sofas, large tables covered with pictures, +books, and playthings that had cost a hundred times a hundred dollars; +at least so said the children. + +Then the fir tree was placed in a large tub, full of sand; but green +baize hung all around it, so that no one could know it was a tub; and +it stood on a very handsome carpet. Oh, how the fir tree trembled! +What was going to happen to him now? Some young ladies came in, and +the servants helped them to adorn the tree. + +On one branch they hung little bags cut out of colored paper, and each +bag was filled with sweetmeats. From other branches hung gilded apples +and walnuts, and all around were hundreds of red, blue and white +tapers, which were fastened upon the branches. Dolls, exactly like +real men and women, were placed under the green leaves,--and the tree +had never seen such things before,--and at the top was fastened a +glittering star, made of gold tinsel. Oh, it was very beautiful. "This +evening," they all exclaimed, "how bright it will be!" + +"Oh, that the evening were come," thought the tree, "and the tapers +lighted! Then I should know what else is going to happen. Will the +trees of the forest come to see me? Will the sparrows peep in at the +windows, I wonder, as they fly? Shall I grow faster here, and keep on +all these ornaments during summer and winter?" But guessing was of +very little use. His back ached with trying; and this pain is as bad +for a slender fir tree as headache is for us. + +At last the tapers were lighted, and then what a glistening blaze of +splendor the tree presented! It trembled so with joy in all its +branches, that one of the candles fell among the green leaves and +burnt some of them. "Help! help!" exclaimed the young ladies; but +there was no danger, for they quickly extinguished the fire. + +After this the tree tried not to tremble at all, though the fire +frightened him, he was so anxious not to hurt any of the beautiful +ornaments, even while their brilliancy dazzled him. + +And now the folding doors were thrown open, and a troop of children +rushed in as if they intended to upset the tree, and were followed +more slowly by their elders. For a moment the little ones stood silent +with astonishment, and then they shouted for joy till the room rang; +and they danced merrily round the tree, while one present after +another was taken from it. + +"What are they doing? What will happen next?" thought the tree. At +last the candles burned down to the branches, and were put out. Then +the children received permission to plunder the tree. + +Oh, how they rushed upon it! There was such a riot that the branches +cracked, and had it not been fastened with the glistening star to the +ceiling, it must have been thrown down. + +Then the children danced about with their pretty toys, and no one +noticed the tree, except the children's maid, who came and peeped +among the branches to see if an apple or a fig had been forgotten. + +"A story, a story," cried the children, pulling a little fat man +toward the tree. + +"Now we shall be in green shade," said the man, as he seated himself +under it, "and the tree will have the pleasure of hearing also; but I +shall only relate one story. What shall it be? Ivede-Avede, or +Humpty-Dumpty, who fell down stairs, but soon got up again, and at +last married a princess?" + +"Ivede-Avede," cried some. "Humpty-Dumpty," cried others; and there +was a famous uproar. But the fir tree remained quite still, and +thought to himself, "Shall I have anything to do with all this? Ought +I to make a noise too?" but he had already amused them as much as they +wished. + +Then the old man told them the story of Humpty-Dumpty;--how he fell +downstairs and was raised up again, and married a princess. And the +children clapped their hands and cried "Tell another, tell another," +for they wanted to hear the story of Ivede-Avede; but this time they +had only Humpty-Dumpty. After this the fir tree became quite silent +and thoughtful. Never had the birds in the forest told such tales as +Humpty-Dumpty who fell down stairs, and yet married a princess. + +"Ah, yes! so it happens in the world," thought the fir tree. He +believed it all, because it was related by such a pleasant man. + +"Ah, well!" he thought, "who knows? Perhaps I may fall down too and +marry a princess;" and he looked forward joyfully to the next evening, +expecting to be again decked out with lights and playthings, gold and +fruit. "Tomorrow I will not tremble," thought he; "I will enjoy all my +splendor, and I shall hear the story of Humpty-Dumpty again, and +perhaps Ivede-Avede." And the tree remained quiet and thoughtful all +night. + +In the morning the servants and the housemaid came in. "Now," thought +the fir tree, "all my splendor is going to begin again." But they +dragged him out of the room and upstairs to the garret and threw him +on the floor, in a dark corner where no daylight shone, and there they +left him. "What does this mean?" thought the tree. "What am I to do +here? I can hear nothing in a place like this;" and he leaned against +the wall and thought and thought. + +And he had time enough to think, for days and nights passed, and no +one came near him; and when at last somebody did come, it was only to +push away some large boxes in a corner. So the tree was completely +hidden from sight as if it had never existed. + +"It is winter now," thought the tree; "the ground is hard and covered +with snow, so that people cannot plant me. I shall be sheltered here, +I dare say, until spring comes. How thoughtful and kind everybody is +to me! Still, I wish this place were not so dark and so dreadfully +lonely, with not even a little hare to look at. How pleasant it was +out in the forest while the snow lay on the ground, when the hare +would run by, yes, and jump over me too, although I did not like it +then. Oh! it is terribly lonely here." + +"Squeak, squeak," said a little mouse, creeping cautiously towards the +tree; then came another, and they both sniffed at the fir tree, and +crept in and out between the branches. + +"Oh, it is very cold here," said the little mouse. "If it were not, we +would be very comfortable here, wouldn't we, old fir tree?" + +"I am not old," said the fir tree. "There are many who are older than +I am." + +"Where do you come from?" asked the mice, who were full of curiosity; +"and what do you know? Have you seen the most beautiful places in the +world, and can you tell us all about them? And have you been in the +storeroom, where cheeses lie on the shelf and hams hang from the +ceiling? One can run about on tallow candles there; one can go in thin +and come out fat." + +"I know nothing of that," said the fir tree; "but I know the wood +where the sun shines and the birds sing." And then the tree told the +little mice all about its youth. They had never heard such an account +in their lives; and after they had listened to it attentively, they +said, "What a number of things you have seen! You must have been very +happy." + +"Happy!" exclaimed the fir tree; and then, as he reflected on what he +had been telling them, he said, "Ah, yes! after all, those were happy +days." But when he went on and related all about Christmas eve, and +how he had been dressed up with cakes and lights, the mice said, "How +happy you must have been, you old fir tree." + +"I am not old at all," replied the tree; "I only came from the forest +this winter. I am now checked in my growth." + +"What splendid stories you can tell," said the little mice. And the +next night four other mice came with them to hear what the tree had to +tell. The more he talked, the more he remembered, and then he thought +to himself, "Yes, those were happy days; but they may come again. +Humpty-Dumpty fell downstairs, and yet he married a princess. Perhaps +I may marry a princess too." And the fir tree thought of the pretty +little birch tree that grew in the forest; a real princess, a +beautiful princess, she was to him. + +"Who is Humpty-Dumpty?" asked the little mice. And then the tree +related the whole story; he could remember every single word. And the +little mice were so delighted with it, that they were ready to jump to +the top of the tree. The next night a great many more mice made their +appearance, and on Sunday two rats came with them; but they said it +was not a pretty story at all, and the little mice were very sorry, +for it made them also think less of it. + +"Do you know only that one story?" asked the rats. + +"Only that one," replied the fir tree. "I heard it on the happiest +evening of my life; but I did not know I was so happy at the time." + +"We think it is a very miserable story," said the rats. "Don't you +know any story about bacon or tallow in the storeroom?" + +"No," replied the tree. + +"Many thanks to you, then," replied the rats, and they went their +ways. + +The little mice also kept away after this, and the tree sighed and +said, "It was very pleasant when the merry little mice sat around me +and listened while I talked. Now that is all past too. However, I +shall consider myself happy when someone comes to take me out of this +place." + +But would this ever happen? Yes; one morning people came to clear up +the garret; the boxes were packed away, and the tree was pulled out of +the corner and thrown roughly on the floor; then the servants dragged +it out upon the staircase where the daylight shone. + +"Now life is beginning again," said the tree, rejoicing in the +sunshine and fresh air. Then it was carried downstairs and taken into +the courtyard so quickly that it forgot to think of itself, and could +only look about, there was so much to be seen. + +The court was close to a garden, where everything looked blooming. +Fresh and fragrant roses hung over the little palings. The linden +trees were in blossom; while the swallows flew here and there crying, +"Twit, twit, twit, my mate is coming;" but it was not the fir tree +they meant. + +"Now I shall live," cried the tree joyfully, spreading out its +branches; but alas! they were all withered and yellow, and it lay in a +corner amongst weeds and nettles. The star of gold paper still stuck +in the top of the tree, and glittered in the sunshine. + +In the same courtyard two of the merry children were playing who had +danced round the tree at Christmas time and had been so happy. The +youngest saw the gilded star and ran and pulled it off the tree. "Look +what is sticking to the ugly old fir tree," said the child, treading +on the branches till they crackled under his boots. + +And the tree saw all the fresh, bright flowers in the garden, and +then looked at itself, and wished it had remained in the dark corner +of the garret. It thought of its fresh youth in the forest, of the +merry Christmas evening, and of the little mice who had listened to +the story of Humpty-Dumpty. + +"Past! past!" said the poor tree. "Oh, had I but enjoyed myself while +I could have done so! but now it is too late." + +Then a lad came and chopped the tree into small pieces, till a large +bundle lay in a heap on the ground. The pieces were placed in the +fire, and they blazed up brightly, while the tree sighed so deeply +that each sigh was like a little pistol shot. Then the children, who +were at play, came and seated themselves in front of the fire and +looked at it, and cried, "Pop, pop." But at each "pop," which was a +deep sigh, the tree was thinking of a summer day in the forest, or of +some winter night there when the stars shone brightly, and of +Christmas evening and of Humpty-Dumpty, the only story it had ever +heard, or knew how to relate,--till at last it was consumed. + +The boys still played in the garden, and the youngest wore the golden +star on his breast with which the tree had been adorned during the +happiest evening of its existence. Now all was past; the tree's life +was past, and the story also past! for all stories must come to an end +some time or other. + +[*] From "Hans Andersen's Fairy Tales," adapted by J. H. Stickney. By +permission of the publishers--Ginn and Company. + + + + +THE LITTLE MATCH GIRL[*] + +Hans Andersen + + +It was dreadfully cold; it was snowing fast, and was almost dark, as +evening came on--the last evening of the year. In the cold and the +darkness, there went along the street a poor little girl, bareheaded +and with naked feet. When she left home she had slippers on, it is +true; but they were much too large for her feet,--slippers that her +mother had used until then, and the poor little girl lost them in +running across the street when two carriages were passing terribly +fast. When she looked for them, one was not to be found, and a boy +seized the other and ran away with it, saying he would use it for a +cradle some day, when he had children of his own. + +So on the little girl went with her bare feet, that were red and blue +with cold. In an old apron that she wore were bundles of matches, and +she carried a bundle also in her hand. No one had bought so much as a +bunch all the long day, and no one had given her even a penny. + +Poor little girl! Shivering with cold and hunger she crept along, a +perfect picture of misery! + +The snowflakes fell on her long flaxen hair, which hung in pretty +curls about her throat; but she thought not of her beauty nor of the +cold. Lights gleamed in every window, and there came to her the savory +smell of roast goose, for it was New Year's Eve. And it was of this +which she thought. + +In a corner formed by two houses, one of which projected beyond the +other, she sat cowering down. She had drawn under her little feet, but +still she grew colder and colder; yet she dared not go home, for she +had sold no matches, and could not bring a penny of money. Her father +would certainly beat her; and, besides, it was cold enough at home, +for they had only the houseroof above them; and, though the largest +holes had been stopped with straw and rags, there were left many +through which the cold wind whistled. + +And now her little hands were nearly frozen with cold. Alas! a single +match might do her good if she might only draw it from the bundle, rub +it against the wall, and warm her fingers by it. So at last she drew +one out. Whischt! How it blazed and burned! It gave out a warm, bright +flame like a little candle, as she held her hands over it. A wonderful +little light it was. It really seemed to the little girl as if she sat +before a great iron stove, with polished brass feet and brass shovel +and tongs. So blessedly it burned that the little maiden stretched out +her feet to warm them also. How comfortable she was! But lo! the flame +went out, the stove vanished, and nothing remained but the little +burned match in her hand. + +She rubbed another match against the wall. It burned brightly, and +where the light fell upon the wall it became transparent like a veil, +so that she could see through it into the room. A snow-white cloth was +spread upon the table, on which was a beautiful china dinner service, +while a roast goose, stuffed with apples and prunes, steamed famously, +and sent forth a most savory smell. And what was more delightful +still, and wonderful, the goose jumped from the dish, with knife and +fork still in its breast, and waddled along the floor straight to the +little girl. + +But the match went out then, and nothing was left to her but the +thick, damp wall. + +She lighted another match. And now she was under a most beautiful +Christmas tree, larger and far more prettily trimmed than the one she +had seen through the glass doors at the rich merchant's. Hundreds of +wax tapers were burning on the green branches, and gay figures, such +as she had seen in the shop windows, looked down upon her. The child +stretched out her hands to them; then the match went out. + +Still the lights of the Christmas tree rose higher and higher. She saw +them as stars in heaven, and one of them fell, forming a long trail of +fire. + +"Now some one is dying," murmured the child softly; for her +grandmother, the only person who had loved her and who was now dead, +had told her that whenever a star falls a soul mounts up to God. + +She struck yet another match against the wall, and again it was light; +and in the brightness there appeared before her the dear old +grandmother, bright and radiant, yet sweet and mild, and happy as she +had never looked on earth. + +"Oh, grandmother," cried the child, "take me with you. I know you will +go away when the match burns out. You, too, will vanish, like the warm +stove, the splendid New Year's feast, the beautiful Christmas Tree." +And lest her grandmother should disappear, she rubbed the whole bundle +of matches against the wall. + +And the matches burned with such a brilliant light that it became +brighter than noonday. Her grandmother had never looked so grand and +beautiful. She took the little girl in her arms, and both flew +together, joyously and gloriously, mounting higher and higher, far +above the earth; and for them there was neither hunger, nor cold, nor +care;--they were with God. + +But in the corner, at the dawn of day, sat the poor girl, leaning +against the wall, with red cheeks and smiling mouth,--frozen to death +on the last evening of the old year. Stiff and cold she sat, with the +matches, one bundle of which was burned. + +"She wanted to warm herself, poor little thing," people said. No one +imagined what sweet visions she had had, or how gloriously she had +gone with her grandmother to enter upon the joys of a new year. + +[*] From "Hans Andersen's Fairy Tales." By permission of +publishers--Ginn & Company. + + + + +LITTLE PICCOLA[*] + +Suggested by One of Mrs. Celia Thaxter's Poems + + "Story-telling is a real strengthening spirit-bath."--_Froebel._ + + +Piccola lived in Italy, where the oranges grow, and where all the year +the sun shines warm and bright. I suppose you think Piccola a very +strange name for a little girl; but in her country it was not strange +at all, and her mother thought it the sweetest name a little girl ever +had. + +Piccola had no kind father, no big brother or sister, and no sweet +baby to play with and love. She and her mother lived all alone in an +old stone house that looked on a dark, narrow street. They were very +poor, and the mother was away from home almost every day, washing +clothes and scrubbing floors, and working hard to earn money for her +little girl and herself. So you see Piccola was alone a great deal of +the time; and if she had not been a very happy, contented little +child, I hardly know what she would have done. She had no playthings +except a heap of stones in the back yard that she used for building +houses and a very old, very ragged doll that her mother had found in +the street one day. + +But there was a small round hole in the stone wall at the back of her +yard, and her greatest pleasure was to look through that into her +neighbor's garden. When she stood on a stone, and put her eyes close +to the hole, she could see the green grass in the garden, and smell +the sweet flowers, and even hear the water splashing into the +fountain. She had never seen anyone walking in the garden, for it +belonged to an old gentleman who did not care about grass and flowers. + +One day in the autumn her mother told her that the old gentleman had +gone away, and had rented his house to a family of little American +children, who had come with their sick mother to spend the winter in +Italy. After this, Piccola was never lonely, for all day long the +children ran and played and danced and sang in the garden. It was +several weeks before they saw her at all, and I am not sure they ever +would have done so but one day the kitten ran away, and in chasing her +they came close to the wall and saw Piccola's black eyes looking +through the hole in the stones. They were a little frightened at +first, and did not speak to her; but the next day she was there again, +and Rose, the oldest girl, went up to the wall and talked to her a +little while. When the children found that she had no one to play with +and was very lonely, they talked to her every day, and often brought +her fruits and candies, and passed them through the hole in the wall. + +One day they even pushed the kitten through; but the hole was hardly +large enough for her, and she mewed and scratched and was very much +frightened. After that the little boy said he would ask his father if +the hole might not be made larger, and then Piccola could come in and +play with them. The father had found out that Piccola's mother was a +good woman, and that the little girl herself was sweet and kind, so +that he was very glad to have some of the stones broken away and an +opening made for Piccola to come in. + +How excited she was, and how glad the children were when she first +stepped into the garden! She wore her best dress, a long, +bright-colored woolen skirt and a white waist. Round her neck was a +string of beads, and on her feet were little wooden shoes. It would +seem very strange to us--would it not?--to wear wooden shoes; but +Piccola and her mother had never worn anything else, and never had any +money to buy stockings. Piccola almost always ran about barefooted, +like the kittens and the chickens and the little ducks. What a good +time they had that day, and how glad Piccola's mother was that her +little girl could have such a pleasant, safe place to play in, while +she was away at work! + +By and by December came, and the little Americans began to talk about +Christmas. One day, when Piccola's curly head and bright eyes came +peeping through the hole in the wall, and they ran to her and helped +her in; and as they did so, they all asked her at once what she +thought she would have for a Christmas present. "A Christmas present!" +said Piccola. "Why, what is that?" + +All the children looked surprised at this, and Rose said, rather +gravely, "Dear Piccola, don't you know what Christmas is?" + +Oh, yes, Piccola knew it was the happy day when the baby Christ was +born, and she had been to church on that day and heard the beautiful +singing, and had seen the picture of the Babe lying in the manger, +with cattle and sheep sleeping round about. Oh, yes, she knew all that +very well, but what was a Christmas present? + +Then the children began to laugh and to answer her all together. There +was such a clatter of tongues that she could hear only a few of the +words now and then, such as "chimney," "Santa Claus," "stockings," +"reindeer," "Christmas Eve," "candies and toys." Piccola put her hands +over her ears and said, "Oh, I can't understand one word. You tell me, +Rose." Then Rose told her all about jolly Santa Claus, with his red +cheeks and white beard and fur coat, and about his reindeer and sleigh +full of toys. "Every Christmas Eve," said Rose, "he comes down the +chimney, and fills the stockings of all the good children; so, +Piccola, you hang up your stocking, and who knows what a beautiful +Christmas present you will find when morning comes!" Of course Piccola +thought this was a delightful plan, and was very pleased to hear about +it. Then all the children told her of every Christmas Eve they could +remember, and of the presents they had had; so that she went home +thinking of nothing but dolls and hoops and balls and ribbons and +marbles and wagons and kites. + +She told her mother about Santa Claus, and her mother seemed to think +that perhaps he did not know there was any little girl in that house, +and very likely he would not come at all. But Piccola felt very sure +Santa Claus would remember her, for her little friends had promised to +send a letter up the chimney to remind him. + +Christmas Eve came at last. Piccola's mother hurried home from her +work; they had their little supper of soup and bread, and soon it was +bedtime,--time to get ready for Santa Claus. But oh! Piccola +remembered then for the first time that the children had told her she +must hang up her stocking, and she hadn't any, and neither had her +mother. + +How sad, how sad it was! Now Santa Claus would come, and perhaps be +angry because he couldn't find any place to put the present. + +The poor little girl stood by the fireplace, and the big tears began +to run down her cheeks. Just then her mother called to her, "Hurry, +Piccola; come to bed." What should she do? But she stopped crying, and +tried to think; and in a moment she remembered her wooden shoes, and +ran off to get one of them. She put it close to the chimney, and said +to herself, "Surely Santa Claus will know what it's there for. He will +know I haven't any stockings, so I gave him the shoe instead." + +Then she went off happily to her bed, and was asleep almost as soon as +she had nestled close to her mother's side. + +The sun had only just begun to shine, next morning, when Piccola +awoke. With one jump she was out on the floor and running toward the +chimney. The wooden shoe was lying where she had left it, but you +could never, never guess what was in it. + +Piccola had not meant to wake her mother, but this surprise was more +than any little girl could bear and yet be quiet; so she danced to the +bed with the shoe in her hand, calling, "Mother, mother! look, look! +see the present Santa Claus brought me!" + +Her mother raised her head and looked into the shoe. "Why, Piccola," +she said, "a little chimney swallow nestling in your shoe? What a good +Santa Claus to bring you a bird!" + +"Good Santa Claus, dear Santa Claus!" cried Piccola; and she kissed +her mother and kissed the bird and kissed the shoe, and even threw +kisses up the chimney, she was so happy. + +When the birdling was taken out of the shoe, they found that he did +not try to fly, only to hop about the room; and as they looked closer, +they could see that one of his wings was hurt a little. But the mother +bound it up carefully, so that it did not seem to pain him, and he was +so gentle that he took a drink of water from a cup, and even ate +crumbs and seeds out of Piccola's hands. She was a proud little girl +when she took her Christmas present to show the children in the +garden. They had had a great many gifts,--dolls that could say +"mamma," bright picture books, trains of cars, toy pianos; but not one +of their playthings was alive, like Piccola's birdling. They were as +pleased as she, and Rose hunted about the house until she found a +large wicker cage that belonged to a blackbird she once had. She gave +the cage to Piccola, and the swallow seemed to make himself quite at +home in it at once, and sat on the perch winking his bright eyes at +the children. Rose had saved a bag of candies for Piccola, and when +she went home at last, with the cage and her dear swallow safely +inside it, I am sure there was not a happier little girl in the whole +country of Italy. + +[*] From "The Story Hour," by Wiggins and Smith. Published by consent +of the authors and also the publishers--Houghton, Mifflin and Company. + + + + +THE SHEPHERD'S STORY[*] + +Washington Gladden + + +"Bring hither that sheepskin, Joseph, and lay it down on this bank of +dry earth, under this shelving rock. The wind blows chilly from the +west, but the rock will shelter us. The sky is fair and the moon is +rising, and we can sit here and watch the flocks on the hillside +below. Your young blood and your father's coat of skins will keep you +warm for one watch, I am sure. At midnight, my son, your father, +Reuben, and his brother James will take our places; for the first +watch the old man and the boy will tend the sheep." + +"Yes, grandfather; you shall sit in that snug corner of the rock, +where you can lean back and take your comfort. I will lie here at your +feet. Now and then I will run to see whether the sheep are wandering, +and that will warm me, if I grow cold." + +"Have you never been out on the hills at night with your father?" + +"Never, grandfather. I have often begged him to let me come; but he +kept saying that I must wait until I was twelve years old. On the last +full moon was my birthday and today, when he returned from Bethlehem +to the flocks, he brought me with him." + +"So this is the lad's first night with the sheep in the fields, and +the old man's last night, I fear," said the aged shepherd, sadly. "It +is not often in these days that I venture out to keep the watches of +the flock; but this one night of the year I have spent upon these +hills these many years, and I always shall as long as I have strength +to walk so far." + +"Was your father, too, a shepherd?" + +"Yes, and all his fathers before him for many generations. On these +hills my ancestors have kept their sheep for I know not how long." + +Joseph was still for a moment. His eyes wandered away over the silent +hills, lit by the rising moon. His face was troubled. At length, he +said gently: + +"Grandfather, I heard Rabbi Eliezer saying, the other day, in the +synagogue, that a shepherd's life is not a noble life. He was reading +from one of the old doctors, who said: 'Let no one make his son a +camel-driver, a barber, a sailor, a shepherd, or a shopkeeper. They +are dishonest callings.' I was angry when he read it; but I held my +peace." + +"You did well, my son, to hold your peace. I myself have often heard +such words, of late, from the doctors in the synagogues; but it is not +wise to answer them. Where they got their notions, I know not. From +the Egyptians, I think, more than from the prophets. All Egyptians +hate shepherds, and can never speak of them without sneering. Perhaps +they have not yet forgotten how the shepherds conquered and ruled them +for generations. Nevertheless, there is some reason why the calling of +the shepherds should be despised. Many of them are rude and fierce +men. Living out of doors so constantly makes their manners rough and +their temper harsh. They are often quarrelsome. Such bloody fights as +I used to see among them, at the wells in the south country, where +they brought their flocks to water and each one wanted the first +chance at the well, I hope you will never look upon." + +"But all shepherds are not so," protested Joseph. + +"No, indeed. Brave men they must be; fleet of foot and strong of limb +and stout of heart; but brave men are not always quarrelsome. Many a +shepherd whom I have known had a heart as pure and gentle as a +child's. And the godliest men that I have known have been among them. +If the shepherd has but learned to think, to commune with his own +soul, he has time for thought and time for prayer. More than one with +whom I have watched upon these hills knew all the Psalms of David by +heart and many of the books of the prophets. The doctors in the +synagogues teach only the law; the shepherds love best the Psalms and +the prophets. They do not forget that King David was himself a +shepherd's lad. It was upon these very hills that he kept his father's +sheep. It was in that ravine over yonder, on that hillside, that he, a +mere stripling, caught by the beard and killed the lion and the bear +that attacked the sheep. It was on that slope, just a little to the +south, that the messenger found him with his flocks when he was called +home to be anointed by Samuel the prophet. When the doctors talk so +contemptuously about the shepherds, I wonder if they do not remember +that the great king wrote: 'The Lord is my Shepherd.' How can our +calling be so mean as they say, when David, who was called from the +sheepfolds, praises the Eternal One himself as his Shepherd? But hark! +what noise is that I hear? There is some trouble among the sheep." + +"Let me run and see," answers the boy, "and I will come and bring you +word." + +So saying, Joseph cast off his father's shaggy coat, seized the sling +in his left hand and the crook in his right and ran swiftly out to the +brow of the hill. He was a strong lad, large of frame and a swift +runner, and the sling in his hand was a sure weapon. The old man +looked after him with pride, as he bounded over the rocks, and said to +himself: + +"Some evil beast, I doubt not. But the lad's heart is brave and he +must learn to face dangers. I will wait a moment." + +Presently the sheep came huddling round the hill in terror. The quick, +faint bleat of the ewes showed that they had seen a foe. The old man +arose and hurried in the direction in which the lad had disappeared. +Joseph was just returning, breathless, from the ravine below. + +"It was a wolf, grandfather. The sheep on this side of the ledge had +seen him and were flying. Just as I reached the brow of the hill, he +was creeping round the end of the ledge below, ready to spring upon a +ewe that was feeding near. The first thing he knew a stone from my +sling hit him, and he went howling down the hill. I think I broke his +leg, for he went on three legs and I gained on him as I ran after him; +but he crawled into a narrow place among the rocks in the gorge down +yonder, and I could not follow him." + +"Well done, my lad," said the ancient Stephanus proudly. "You will +make a good shepherd. These single wolves are cowards. It is always +safe to face them. When they come in packs, it is quite another thing. +But this fellow will keep at a safe distance for the rest of the +night, you may depend. Let us go back to our shelter and call the +sheep together." + +It was several minutes before Stephanus and Joseph could collect the +sheep that the wolf had scattered; but at length, with the aid of the +dog, who was not a very brave specimen, and who had taken to his heels +when he saw the wolf coming, they succeeded in driving them into a +safe neighborhood, and then, with their blood quickened by the +adventure, they sat down again beneath the overhanging rock. + +"You said, grandfather, that you always spent this night with the +flocks in the fields. Why this night?" asked the boy. + +"Do you not know, my boy, that this is the night of the year on which +the Lord Christ was born?" + +"Oh! yes," answered the lad. "My father told me as we were walking +hither today, but I had forgotten it. And you were with the sheep that +night?" + +"Aye." + +"Where was it?" + +"Here, on this very spot." + +The boy's eyes began to grow and fill with wonder and there was a +slight tremor in his voice as he hurriedly plied the aged man with his +eager questions. Stephanus drew his shepherd's cloak around him, and +leaned forward a little, and looked out upon the silent moonlit hills, +and then up into the sky. + +"How long ago was that, grandfather?" + +"Just fifty years ago this night." + +"And how old were you then?" + +"Fourteen, and a stout boy for my age. I had been for two years in +the fields with my father, and had tasted to the full the hardships +and dangers of the shepherd's life." + +"Who were with you on that night?" + +"My father, and his brother, James, and Hosea, the son of John, a +neighbor and kinsman of ours. On that year, as on this year and often, +there came in the midwinter a dry and warm season between the early +and the latter rain. We had driven forth our flocks from Bethlehem and +were dwelling by night in the shelter of the tower on the hillside +yonder, watching and sleeping two and two. My father and I were wont +to keep the early watches. At midnight we would call James and Hosea, +and they would watch till the morning. But that night, when the sun +went down and the stars came out, we were sitting here, upon this +hillside, talking of the troubles of Israel and of the promises of +deliverance spoken by the prophets; and James and Hosea were asking my +father questions, and he was answering them, for he was older than +they, and all the people of Bethlehem reverenced him as a wise and +devout man. Some even said that, if the people of Israel had not +ceased to look for prophets, they would have counted him a prophet. I +remember well that, when he rose in the synagogue, it seemed as if +some wisdom from on high touched his lips, and he would speak with +such hope and courage of the light that should yet shine in our +darkness and of the help that should yet arise to Judah, that the +people's faces would glow with joyful expectation." + +Stephanus paused a moment and started forward, as his eye was turned +toward his own shadow upon the rock, cast by the rising moon. Did the +old man's figure that he saw remind him of the patriarch of whom he +was talking? + +Soon he went on. + +"Ah! but they should have heard my father talking here by night, under +the stars. It was here upon these hills where the royal shepherd used +to sing, that his tongue was loosed and he spoke wonderful words. So +it was that night, fifty years ago. I remember it as if it were +yesterday. My father sat in this very niche, where I am sitting now; +James and Hosea were on either side of him. I was lying at their feet, +as you now lie at mine. Their faces kindled and the tremor of deep +feeling was in their voices as they talked together; and the other two +had lingered here three or four hours after the sun had set. It was +not a moonlit night like this, but all the stars were out and all the +winds were still. + +"Suddenly I saw my father rise to his feet. Then the other men sprang +up, with astonishment and wonder upon their faces. It had grown light +all at once, lighter than the brightest moon; and as I turned my face +in the direction in which the others were looking, I saw, standing +there upon that level place, a figure majestic and beautiful beyond +all the power of words to tell." + +"Were you not afraid, grandfather?" + +"Indeed, I was, my boy. My heart stopped beating. The others were +standing, but I had no power to rise. I lay there motionless upon the +earth. My eyes were fixed upon that wonderful face; upon those clear, +shining eyes; upon that brow that seemed to beam with the purity of +the soul within. It was not a smile with which that face was lighted. +It was something too noble and exalted to call by that name. It was a +look that told of power and peace, of joy and triumph." + +"Did you know that it was an angel?" + +"I knew not anything. I only knew that what I saw was glorious, too +glorious for mortal eyes to look upon. Yet, while I gazed, and in far +less time than I have now taken to tell you of what I saw, the +terribleness of the look began to disappear, the sweetness and grace +of the soul shone forth, and I had almost ceased to tremble before the +angel opened his mouth. And when he spoke, his voice, clearer than any +trumpet and sweeter than any lute, charmed away all my fears." + +"'Be not afraid' he said, 'for behold I bring you good tidings of +great joy which shall be to all people. For there is born to you this +day, in the City of David, a Savior, which is Messiah, the King. And +this is the sign unto you. Ye shall find a babe wrapped in swaddling +clothes and lying in a manger.' + +"Oh! that voice, my boy! It makes my heart beat now to remember its +sweetness. It seemed to carry these words into our innermost hearts; +to print them on our memory, so that we never could forget one +syllable of what he said. And then, before we had time to make reply, +he turned aside a little and lifted his face toward heaven, and, in a +tone far louder than that in which he had spoken to us, but yet so +sweet that it did not startle us at all, came forth from his lips the +first strain of the great song: + + "'Glory to God in the highest!' + +"When he had uttered that, he paused a moment, and the echoes, one +after another, from hills that were near and hills that were far away, +came flying home to us; so that I knew for once what the prophet meant +when he said that all the mountains and the hills should break forth +into singing. But before the echoes had all faded we began to hear +other voices above our heads, a great chorus, taking up the strain +that the angel first had sung. At first it seemed dim and far away; +but gradually it came nearer, and filled all the air, filled all the +earth, filled all our souls with a most entrancing sweetness. Glory to +God in the highest!--that was the grandest part. It seemed as though +there could be no place so high that that strain would not mount up to +it, and no place so happy that that voice would not make it thrill +with new gladness. But then came the softer tones, less grand, but +even sweeter: 'Peace on earth; good will to men.' + +"Oh! my boy, if you had heard that music as I did, you would not +wonder when I tell you that it has been hard for me to wait here, in +the midst of the dreary noises of earth, for fifty years before +hearing it again. But earth that night was musical as heaven. You +should have heard the echoes that came back, when the angels' chorus +ceased, from all these mountains and all these little hills on every +side. There is music enough even in this world, if one can only call +it forth; chords divine that will vibrate with wonderful harmony. It +only needs an angel's hand to touch the trembling strings." + +"Did you see the choir of angels overhead, grandfather?" + +"Nay, I saw nothing. The brightness was too dazzling for mortal eyes. +We all stood there, with downcast eyes, listening spell-bound to the +wonderful melody, until the chorus ceased, and the echoes, one after +another, died away, and the glory faded out of the sky and the stars +came back again, and no sound was heard but the faint voice of a young +lamb, calling for its mother. + +"The first to break the silence was my father. 'Come,' he said, in a +solemn voice. 'Let us go at once to Bethlehem, and see this thing +which is come to pass, which the Lord hath made known unto us.' + +"So the sheep were quietly gathered into the fold at the tower, and we +hastened to Bethlehem. Never shall I forget that journey by night. We +spake not many words, as we traveled swiftly the twenty furlongs; talk +seemed altogether tame; but now and then my father broke forth in a +song, and the others joined in the chorus. We were not so spent with +running but that we could find voice for singing; and such words as +these of the prophet were the only ones that could give voice to our +swelling hearts: + + "'Sing, O heavens; and be joyful, O earth; + And break forth into singing, O mountains; + For the Lord hath comforted His people, + And will have mercy on His afflicted. + + "'How beautiful upon the mountains + Are the feet of Him that bringeth good tidings, + That publisheth peace, + That bringeth good tidings of good, + That publisheth salvation.' + +"It was midnight when we climbed the hill to the little city of +Bethlehem; the constellation Cesil, called by the Greeks Orion, was +just setting in the west. We knew not whither to go. We had only the +sign of the angel by which we should know the infant Messiah. He was a +babe of one day. He was lying in a manger. + +"'Let us go to the inn Chimham,' said my father. 'It stands on the +very spot where King David was born. Peradvanture we shall find him +there.' + +"Over the entrance to the court of the inn a lantern was swinging from +a rope stretched across from post to post. Guided by its light, we +entered, and found the courtyard full of beasts of burden, showing +that the inn was crowded with travelers. In the arched shelter of the +hostelry as many as could find room were lying; some who could not +sleep were sitting up and waiting drearily for the morning. Two aged +women near the entrance, were talking in a low tone. + +"'Peace be unto you!' said my father. + +"'The Lord be gracious unto thee,' answered the oldest woman, in a +solemn voice, as she looked upon my father's white beard; 'but,' she +quickly added, 'there is scanty cheer in this place for late comers.' + +"'We seek not lodging,' said my father; 'but know you whether among +these guests is an infant born this day?' + +"'Verily there is,' answered the aged dame; 'a man-child more +beautiful than any my eyes have ever beheld. He is lying in a manger +there in the cave that serves for stable.' + +"We hastened to the mouth of the cave, and there beheld our King. The +oxen and the asses were lying near, and a strong man, with a grave and +benignant face, was leaning on his staff above the manger. A beautiful +young mother lay close beside it, her cheek resting on her hands, that +were clasped over the edge of the rock-hewn crib. Into this a little +straw had been thrown, and over it a purple robe had been cast, +whereon the infant lay. A lamp, set upon a projection of the wall of +the cave, burned brightly near. The great eyes of the wonderful child +were wandering about the room; his hand touched his mother's lips. I +waited to hear him open his mouth and speak. + +"There was a moment of silence after we entered the cave. My father +broke it with his salutation: + +"'Hail, thou blessed among women!' he cried. 'This child of thine is a +Prince and a Savior.' + +"And then we all bowed low upon our faces before him and worshipped +him with praise and gladness. + +"The two aged women, with whom we had spoken, had followed us to the +door of the stable, and, seeing us worshipping there, had run to call +others who were awake in the inn, so that when we arose quite a +company were standing at the door, or just within, gazing upon the +King in his beauty and listening to our thanksgiving with great +wonder. + +"Then my father told them all the things that we had heard and +seen--the message of the angel, the song in the air, the glory of the +Lord that had appeared to us--and how we had quickly come to +Bethlehem, and had found things as the angel had told us. 'And it is +even,' he cried, 'as the prophet himself hath spoken: "Thou Bethlehem +Ephratah, though thou be little among the thousands of Judah, yet out +of thee shall he come forth unto me that is to be ruler in Israel, +whose going forth hast been of old; even from everlasting."' + +"All that heard were full of astonishment--all save the mother. I saw +no wonder on her face; the great things that my father told caused her +no astonishment; she listened with a quiet and solemn joy, like one +who was saying in her heart: 'I knew it all before.' + +"When my father had finished speaking, we all bowed low again before +the young child; and the mother lifted him in her arms and placed his +cheek against her own, smiling graciously on us, but uttering no word. +And we came forth from the stable and stood again beneath the stars in +the courtyard of the inn. By this time many of the travelers were +awake, and an eager company had gathered around us, all of whom +desired to be told of the sign that had been shown to us. To one and +another we rehearsed our story, lingering long to make known the good +tidings, until the morning star appeared and the dawn began to kindle +over the eastern hills. Then we hastened to our own homes in the city, +and told our kindred what had happened unto us. In the early morning +we came back again unto our pastures and our flocks, rejoicing to +stand again in the place where the glory of God had shone and the +music of heaven had filled the air." + +Stephanus paused, his face all aglow with the tale that he had been +telling. His eyes swept again the circuit of the moonlit hills and +were lifted reverently up to the sky. + +"Did you ever see the Lord Christ after that?" asked Joseph. + +"Once only. My father and I were at Jerusalem at the passover. It was +the year before my father died, seventeen years ago; it was the same +week on which our Lord was crucified. My father was then an aged +man--fourscore and five years old. Our tent was pitched on the slope +of the Mount of Olives, near the Bethany road. While we sat there one +morning, a great noise of shouting was heard, and presently we saw one +riding on an ass, followed by a great company, crying 'Hosanna!' As we +drew nearer, we heard them say that it was Jesus of Nazareth; and, +when we saw His face, we knew that it was He, by the wonderful eyes, +though it was the face of a bearded man, and not of an infant, and was +very pale and sad. As He drew near to our tent, the city came full +into His view, with its gilded roofs and marble pinnacles, blazing +under the morning sun. Suddenly He paused in the way, and we heard Him +weeping aloud, though we could not hear His words of lamentation. The +multitude halted, too, when we did; and the cheering ceased, and some +of those who stood nearest Him wept also, though no one seemed to know +what had caused His grief. But soon they went on again, and before +they reached the foot of the hill another multitude met them, coming +forth from the city, and we heard their shouts of 'Hosanna in the +Highest!' as they entered the gate of Jerusalem." + +"What said your father when he saw all this?" queried Joseph. + +"He said but little. There was a shadow on his face, yet he spoke +cheerfully. 'I cannot understand it,' he murmured. 'They are trying to +make Him King of the Jews; but King He will not be, at least not in +their fashion. Yet in some way I know He will be Prince and Deliverer. +I cannot understand, I will wait.'" + +"Were you not in Jerusalem when He was put to death?" + +"No. My father was frail and ill and we had hastened home to +Bethlehem. News of His death on the cross had only just reached us +when another messenger came to tell us that the sepulcher in which He +had been laid was empty; that He had risen from the dead. + +"My father's eyes kindled when he heard this message. He cast aside +his staff and stood firm on his feet. His voice, when he spoke, rang +out like a trumpet. 'Blessed be the Lord God of Israel!' he cried. It +is thus that He redeemeth His people. This Jesus is not to be the +Captain of our armies, but the Savior of our souls. His kingdom is the +kingdom of righteousness, and therefore it is that the prophet hath +said: "Of the increase of His government and peace there shall be +no end." + +"Always after that, words of the prophet concerning the Messiah kept +coming back to my father; and once and again he cried out: 'Truly, +this Jesus was the Son of God, the true King of Israel!' As the months +wore on, his words were more and more of the crucified and risen Lord, +and he dwelt in a great peace. At length, when the flocks were led +forth to the midwinter pasturage, he begged to go with me. It was on +this very day that we came, the same day of the year on which the Lord +was born. He was feeble and tottered as he walked; but he leaned on +my arm and we came slowly. In the evening he said: 'Let me go, my son, +and sit once more under the great rock.' I wrapped him in my coat of +skins, and sat here where I sit now and where he was sitting when the +angel came. We talked here long, under the stars, that night, of Him +whom we had learned to love as Master and Lord, of the works that He +had done and the words that He had spoken, as His disciples had told +of them. We had been silent for a few moments, when I looked up, and +saw that his head had fallen backward against the rock wall. I sprang +to him. His eyes were shut, but his lips were moving. I put my ear to +his mouth, and heard him say only: 'Peace--on--earth--good +will'--they were his last words. He had gone beyond our starlight, +into the country where the light always shines--the glory that fell +that night, fifty years ago, upon these hills of Bethlehem." + +Stephanus was silent and Joseph's eyes were full of tears. At length +the old man rose. + +"Come, my son," he said. "Cesil is in the south; it is midnight; let +us call your father and his brother. The old man and the boy have kept +their watch, and it is now time for rest." + +[*] Used by permission of the Author. + + + + +THE STORY OF CHRISTMAS[*] + +Nora A. Smith + + "A great spiritual efficiency lies in story-telling".--_Froebel._ + + +Christmas Day, you know, dear children, is Christ's day, Christ's +birthday, and I want to tell you why we love it so much, and why we +try to make every one happy when it comes each year. + +A long, long time ago--more than eighteen hundred years--the baby +Christ was born on Christmas Day; a baby so wonderful and so +beautiful, who grew up to be a man so wise, so good, so patient and +sweet that, every year, the people who know about Him love Him better +and better, and are more and more glad when His birthday comes again. +You see that He must have been very good and wonderful; for people +have always remembered His birthday, and kept it lovingly for eighteen +hundred years. + +He was born, long years ago, in a land far, far away across the seas. + +Before the baby Christ was born, Mary, His mother, had to make a long +journey with her husband, Joseph. They made this journey to be taxed +or counted; for in those days this could not be done in the town where +people happened to live, but they must be numbered in the place where +they were born. + +In that far-off time the only way of traveling was on a horse, or a +camel, or a good, patient donkey. Camels and horses cost a great deal +of money, and Mary was very poor; so she rode on a quiet, safe +donkey, while Joseph walked by her side, leading him and leaning on +his stick. Mary was very young, and beautiful, I think, but Joseph was +a great deal older than she. + +People dress nowadays, in those distant countries, just as they did so +many years ago, so we know that Mary must have worn a long, thick +dress, falling all about her in heavy folds, and that she had a soft +white veil over her head and neck, and across her face. Mary lived in +Nazareth, and the journey they were making was to Bethlehem, many +miles away. + +They were a long time traveling, I am sure; for donkeys are slow, +though they are so careful, and Mary must have been very tired before +they came to the end of their journey. + +They had traveled all day, and it was almost dark when they came near +to Bethlehem, to the town where the baby Christ was to be born. There +was the place they were to stay,--a kind of inn, or lodging-house, but +not at all like those you know about. + +They have them today in that far-off country, just as they built them +so many years ago. + +It was a low, flat-roofed, stone building, with no windows and only +one large door. There were no nicely furnished bed rooms inside, and +no soft white beds for the tired travelers; there were only little +places built into the stones of the wall, something like the berths on +steamboats nowadays, and each traveler brought his own bedding. No +pretty garden was in front of the inn, for the road ran close to the +very door, so that its dust lay upon the doorsill. All around the +house, to a high, rocky hill at the back, a heavy stone fence was +built, so that the people and the animals inside might be kept safe. + +Mary and Joseph could not get very near the inn; for the whole road in +front was filled with camels and donkeys and sheep and cows, while a +great many men were going to and fro, taking care of the animals. Some +of these people had come to Bethlehem to pay their taxes, as Mary and +Joseph had done, and others were staying for the night on their way to +Jerusalem, a large city a little further on. + +The yard was filled, too, with camels and sheep; and men were lying on +the ground beside them, resting and watching and keeping them safe. +The inn was so full and the yard was so full of people that there was +no room for anybody else, and the keeper had to take Joseph and Mary +through the house and back to the high hill, where they found another +place that was used for a stable. This had only a door and front, and +deep caves were behind, stretching far into the rocks. + +This was the spot where Christ was born. Think how poor a place!--but +Mary was glad to be there, after all; and when the Christ-child came, +He was like other babies, and had so lately come from heaven that He +was happy everywhere. + +There were mangers all around the cave, where the cattle and sheep +were fed, and great heaps of hay and straw were lying on the floor. +Then, I think, there were brown-eyed cows and oxen there, and quiet, +woolly sheep, and perhaps even some dogs that had come in to take care +of the sheep. + +And there in the cave, by and by, the wonderful baby came, and they +wrapped Him up and laid Him in a manger. + +All the stars in the sky shone brightly that night, for they knew the +Christ-child was born, and the angels in heaven sang together for joy. +The angels knew about the lovely child, and were glad that He had come +to help the people on earth to be good. + +There lay the beautiful baby, with a manger for His bed, and oxen and +sheep all sleeping quietly round Him. His mother watched Him and loved +Him, and by and by many people came to see Him, for they had heard +that a wonderful child was to be born in Bethlehem. All the people in +the inn visited Him, and even the shepherds left their flocks in the +fields and sought the child and His mother. + +But the baby was very tiny, and could not talk any more than any other +tiny child, so He lay in His mother's lap, or in the manger, and only +looked at the people. So after they had seen Him and loved Him, they +went away again. + +After a time, when the baby had grown larger, Mary took Him back to +Nazareth, and there He lived and grew up. + +And He grew to be such a sweet, wise, loving boy, such a tender, +helpful man, and He said so many good and beautiful things, that +everyone who knew Him, loved Him. Many of the things He said are in +the Bible, you know, and a great many beautiful stories of the things +He used to do while He was on earth. + +He loved little children like you very much, and often used to take +them up in His arms and talk to them. + +And this is the reason we love Christmas Day so much, and try to make +everybody happy when it comes around each year. This is the reason; +because Christ, who was born on Christmas Day, has helped us all to be +good so many, many times, and because He was the best Christmas +present the world ever had! + +[*] From "The Story Hour," by Kate Douglas Wiggins and Nora A. +Smith. Used by permission of the authors and also of the +publishers--Houghton, Mifflin and Company. + + + + +THE LEGEND OF THE CHRISTMAS TREE[*] + +By Lucy Wheelock + + +Two little children were sitting by the fire one cold winter's night. +All at once they heard a timid knock at the door, and one ran to +open it. + +There, outside in the cold and the darkness, stood a child with no +shoes upon his feet and clad in thin, ragged garments. He was +shivering with cold, and he asked to come in and warm himself. + +"Yes, come," cried both the children; "you shall have our place by the +fire. Come in!" + +They drew the little stranger to their warm seat and shared their +supper with him, and gave him their bed, while they slept on a hard +bench. + +In the night they were awakened by strains of sweet music and, looking +out, they saw a band of children in shining garments approaching the +house. They were playing on golden harps, and the air was full of +melody. + +Suddenly the Stranger Child stood before them; no longer cold and +ragged, but clad in silvery light. + +His soft voice said: "I was cold and you took Me in. I was hungry, and +you fed Me. I was tired, and you gave Me your bed. I am the Christ +Child, wandering through the world to bring peace and happiness to all +good children. As you have given to Me, so may this tree every year +give rich fruit to you." + +So saying, He broke a branch from the fir tree that grew near the +door, and He planted it in the ground and disappeared. But the branch +grew into a great tree, and every year it bore wonderful golden fruit +for the kind children. + +[*] From "For the Children's Hour," by Bailey and Lewis. Used by +permission of the authors and the publishers--Milton Bradley Company. + + + + +LITTLE JEAN[*] + +A Christmas Story + + +Long ago, and far from here, in a country with a name too hard to +pronounce, there lived a little boy named Jean. In many ways, he was +just like the boys here, for there are many Johns over here, are there +not? Then too, Jean lived with his auntie, and some of our boys do +that too. His father and mother were dead, and that is true here +sometimes, isn't it? But in some ways things were quite different with +Jean. In the first place his auntie was very, very cross, and she +often made him climb up his ladder to his little garret room to go to +sleep on his pallet of straw, without any supper, save a dry crust. +His stockings had holes in the heels, and toes and knees, because his +auntie never had time to mend them, and his shoes would have been worn +out all the time if they had not been such strong wooden shoes--for in +that country the boys all wore wooden shoes. Jean did many a little +service around the place, for his auntie made him work for his daily +bread, and he chopped the wood and swept the paths and made the fires +and ran the errands, but he never heard anyone say "Thank you." + +Jean's happiest days were at school, and I wonder if he was like our +boys in that? There his playmates wore much better clothes and good +stockings too, and warm top coats, but they never thought of making +fun of Jean, for they all loved to play with him. One morning Jean +started off to school (which was next to the big church), and when he +got there he found the children all so happy and gay and dressed in +their best clothes, and he heard one boy say, "Won't it be jolly +tomorrow with the big tree full of oranges and popcorn and candy, and +the candles burning?" And another added, "Won't it be fun to see the +things in our shoes in the morning, the goodies that boys love?" And +another said, "My, but we have a big, fat goose at our house, stuffed +with plums and just brown to a turn," and he smacked his lips as he +thought of it. And Jean began to wonder about that beautiful tree and +wish that one would grow at his house. And he thought about his wooden +shoes and knew there would be no goodies in them for him in the +morning. Then he heard one boy say, "Don't you love Christmas?" And +Jean said, "Christmas! why, what is Christmas?" But just then the +teacher came in and said, "Boys, come into the church now and hear the +music." And so the boys marched one behind the other just as they do +in school here, and they went into the great church. Jean thought it +was beautiful in there! The soft light, the warm pleasant air, the +flowers, and the marble altar, and then the music! Oh, such music Jean +had never heard, and somehow as he sat on the high-backed bench and +listened, his own heart grew very warm although he could not +understand why, and he loved so to hear them singing: "Peace on earth, +good will to men." And it began to sing itself over and over in his +heart, this sweet, sweet song of "Peace on earth, good will to men." +Then the time came to go home, and the boys all shouted, "Good-bye, +Jean! and Merry Christmas!" And though Jean didn't know about "Merry +Christmas," he kept singing in his little warmed heart, "Peace on +earth, good will to men," and then he was glad the other boys could +have the tree and the goose and the wooden shoes full of goodies even +if he couldn't. + +As Jean went home the snow began to fall and the big flakes lodged on +his shoulders and cap and hands, but he didn't mind the cold for his +heart was so warm. By and by as he ran down the street he passed a +tall house with the steps going up from the street, and there sitting +on the bottom step he saw a little boy with soft curling hair and a +beautiful face, leaning his head against the stone house, fast asleep. +Somehow as Jean looked at the sleeping face, his own heart grew still +and quiet and warm, and he felt like he could look at it forever, and +suddenly he caught himself singing softly under his breath, "Peace on +earth, good will to men." And then he looked down at the little boy's +feet and he saw that he was barefooted and his little feet were purple +with the cold. As Jean looked at the feet, and then at the face of the +child, and thought of the sweet song in his heart, he said, "Oh! I +wish I could give him my shoes, for I have stockings to keep me warm, +but auntie would be so mad! And the more he looked and thought, the +more he longed to give his shoes away, until all at once he said, "I +know what I'll do, I'll give him one shoe and one stocking and then he +won't be so cold," and he felt as though he couldn't get his shoe and +stocking off fast enough to give them to the little child. So gently +and tenderly he lifted the little cold foot in his hand to put on the +shoe that he did not waken the sleeping boy, even when he had put the +stocking on the other foot, and then as he stood up again and took a +last look at the lovely face, before he knew it he was singing aloud, +"Peace on earth, good will to men." Then he hopped off home in the +snow with the happiest heart he had ever had. + +Now, I wish the story turned out differently and that his auntie said +when he told her about it, "I'm so glad you did it, Jean." But she was +so very cross, that she slapped Jean and sent him off to bed without +any supper, saying, "You had no right to give away that shoe and +stocking for my money paid for them!" Somehow Jean didn't mind doing +without supper that night and he soon went fast asleep and dreamed a +beautiful dream, for he thought he was still singing "Peace on earth, +good will to men!" And he saw a vision of the little sleeping boy, +that grew into a tall and gentle man with a radiant face who walked to +and fro in Jean's dream, singing with him "Peace on earth, good will +to men!" Then morning came and outside his window, Jean heard the +voices of children singing, "Glory to God in the highest, on earth +peace, good will to men!" And he heard a very strange sound too, for +his auntie's voice, soft and gentle, said, "Jean, wake up, and come +down and see what has happened," and Jean came down the ladder and lo! +there was a wonderful tree just like the other boys were having today, +and a goose, and by the fireplace his own wooden shoe, and beside it +the mate that he had given to the sleeping child, and far in the +distance Jean heard the children's voices singing as they ran down the +street, "Peace, peace on earth, good will to men!" Then the room grew +very still and peaceful and Jean's heart did too--and through the +silence there came a voice so tender and loving--so gentle that the +auntie's eyes were full of tears, and Jean wanted to listen forever, +and the voice said, "Jean, inasmuch as ye did it unto one of the least +of these, my brethren, ye did it unto ME." + +[*] Adapted from the French of Francois Coppee, by Nannie-Lee-Frayser. + + + + +HOW THE FIR TREE BECAME THE CHRISTMAS TREE[*] + +By Aunt Hede, in "Kindergarten Magazine" + + +This is the story of how the fir tree became the Christmas tree. + +At the time when the Christ Child was born all the people, the +animals, and the trees, and plants were very happy. The Child was born +to bring peace and happiness to the whole world. People came daily to +see the little One, and they always brought gifts with them. + +There were three trees standing near the crypt which saw the people, +and they wished that they, too, might give presents to the Christ +Child. + +The Palm said: "I will choose my most beautiful leaf, and place it as +a fan over the Child." + +"And I," said the Olive, "will sprinkle sweet-smelling oil upon His +head." + +"What can I give to the Child?" asked the Fir, who stood near. + +"You!" cried the others. "You have nothing to offer Him. Your needles +would prick Him, and your tears are sticky." + +So the poor little Fir tree was very unhappy, and it said: "Yes, you +are right. I have nothing to offer the Christ Child." + +Now, quite near the trees stood the Christmas Angel, who had heard all +that the trees had said. The Angel was sorry for the Fir tree who was +so lowly and without envy of the other trees. So, when it was dark, +and the stars came out, he begged a few of the little stars to come +down and rest upon the branches of the Fir tree. They did as the +Christmas Angel asked, and the Fir tree shone suddenly with a +beautiful light. + +And, at that very moment, the Christ Child opened His eyes--for He had +been asleep--and as the lovely light fell upon Him He smiled. + +Every year people keep the dear Christmas Child's birthday by giving +gifts to each other, and every year, in remembrance of His first +birthday, the Christmas Angel places in every house a fir tree, also. +Covered with starry candles it shines for the children as the stars +shone for the Christ Child. The Fir tree was rewarded for its +meekness, for to no other tree is it given to shine upon so many happy +faces. + +[*] From "For the Children's Hour," by Bailey and Lewis. Used by +permission of the authors and also the publishers--Milton Bradley +Company. + + + + +THE MAGI IN THE WEST AND THEIR SEARCH FOR THE CHRIST[*] + +A Tale for the Christmas-Tide + +By Frederick E. Dewhurst + + +[Sidenote: The Mountain of Vision] + +Now, it happened a long time ago, in the year ----, but the exact year +does not matter, because you will not find this story written in the +history of any of the nations of the world. But in one of the +countries of Europe bordering on the Mediterranean Sea was a lofty +mountain, which, to the dwellers in the plains below, seemed to reach +to the very sky. At times its summit was covered with clouds, so that +it could not be seen; at other times it stood out fair and clear, as +though silently asking the people to look up and not down. The lower +slopes of the mountain were covered with olive trees, with groves of +oranges and lemons, and with vineyards, and they were dotted here and +there with the little white cottages of the peasants who made their +living from these groves and vineyards, the fruit of which they sold +in the city not far away. + +[Sidenote: Sunset in the Sea] + +Along the mountain-side wound a foot-trail even to the summit, and +nowhere, in all the region, was there a finer view of the +Mediterranean than from the summit of this mountain. In the long +summer afternoons the peasants and children would climb to the top and +look off on the lovely picture of land and sea. Then they would eat +their simple lunch of bread and dates and olives and quench their +thirst from the spring on the mountain-side, which they called +"Dew-of-heaven," so clear and fresh and sparkling was it; and when the +sun began to touch the western sky with his pencils of gold and +carmine and purple, they hastened down, that they might reach their +cottages before the night shut in. + +[Sidenote: A Stranger Cometh] + +On the day when this story begins a man was standing on the summit of +the mountain looking across the sea in the direction where you will +find Tyre and Joppa on the map. He was, very plainly, not one of the +peasants who lived on the mountain-side. He looked about sixty years +of age; he was tall and erect, though he carried a staff in his hand. +His hair and beard were long and flowing, and almost gray, but his eye +was clear and penetrating, and he was looking across the sea as though +he expected some one to appear. + +And while he stood there gazing seaward, there appeared a second man +on the summit, helping himself up with his staff, and panting with the +effort of the long climb. From his dress and manner it was plain that +this man, too, was not one of the peasants, for, like the first comer, +he seemed to belong to another age and clime. The two men glanced at +each other and gave such greeting as strangers might who should meet +in so solitary a spot as a mountain summit. Then both lapsed into +silence and looked off across the sea. + +[Sidenote: And Findeth a Friend] + +Presently the last comer seemed to awake from his reverie. He walked +over to the place where the other man was sitting, still gazing off +toward Joppa, and touched him on the shoulder: "A thousand pardons, my +friend," he said, "but my mind is haunted with some far-off +recollection, as though in some other land and some far-off time I had +seen thy face. Wilt thou have the kindness to tell me thy name?" + +Without lifting his eyes from the sea, and in a tone which seemed +regretful and sad, the stranger replied: "My name is Gaspard." + +[Sidenote: A Far-off Pilgrimage Recalled] + +"Gaspard! Indeed, then have I seen thee! Look at me, my friend; dost +thou not remember me? My name is Melchoir. Dost thou not recall that +time, how long I know not, when thou and I and Balthazar followed a +star which led us to a little Jewish hamlet, thou bearing gold and I +frankincense, and Balthazar myrrh? Dost thou not remember how, on the +long journey thither, we talked about the young Prince, whom we +expected to find in a royal palace, and how at last when we reached +the village, following the star, we were led not to a palace but to a +little inn, and not even to a room within the inn, but to the +stable-yard, where we found a sweet-faced woman bending over a babe +cradled in a manger; and standing near, a sturdy peasant, proud and +happy, whose name was Joseph? Dost thou not remember, too, that when +we had recovered from our surprise, we left our gifts and greetings, +and went our way as men who had been dreaming? Gaspard, dost thou not +remember?" + +[Sidenote: And Wanderings in Many Lands] + +And Gaspard, looking now intently in the other's face, replied: "Yes, +Melchoir, I remember thee, and I remember the journey of which thou +hast spoken better than I remember aught else. Neither have I +forgotten the surprise and disappointment with which we came to the +place whither the star led us; nor how, after leaving our gifts, we +went away as in a dream; and, Melchoir, I have been dreaming ever +since. Even here hast thou found me in a dream of perplexity. I am +still Gaspard, the wandering magician; for how many years I know not, +I have wandered up and down these lands of Europe. I have crossed the +seas; in every place I have sought to find the kingdom over which we +were told this young prince was one day to reign. Dost thou not +remember that we were told His kingdom was to last forever, that He +would reign in it himself forever and would never die? Alas! I have +lost the old power of the magician's art. I can summon no star to +guide me to the place where I shall find this kingdom and its king." + +[Sidenote: If Only Balthazar Were Here] + +"Truly, Gaspard," answered Melchoir, "the story of your wanderings is +but the repetition of my own; and even now was I drawn to this +mountain summit on the self-same errand that brought you here,--to see +if I could not discover in the direction of yonder land, where +Bethlehem was, some star which might prove to be His star, and which +might guide me in the new quest. If only our old companion, Balthazar, +were with us now, he might give us the clew to our search, for not +only was he more skilful in the magician's art, but he was braver and +more courageous, and withal more serene in spirit." + +[Sidenote: A Song in the Air] + +Now, even while Melchoir was speaking, a voice was heard a little way +down the mountain. Gaspard and Melchoir stopped to listen. The voice +was singing, and the words of the song floated up to them distinctly: + + If the sun has hid its light, + If the day has turned to night, + If the heavens are not benign, + If the stars refuse to shine-- + + Heart of man lose not thy hope; + Door, there's none that shall not ope; + Path, there's none that shall not clear; + Heart of man! why shouldst thou fear? + + If for years should be thy quest, + If for years thou hast no rest, + If thou circlest earth and sea, + If thou worn and weary be-- + + Heart of man, lose not thy hope; + Door, there's none that shall not ope; + Path, there's none that shall not clear; + Heart of man! why shouldst thou fear? + +[Sidenote: Balthazar Cometh] + +"That," exclaimed Gaspard and Melchoir together, "is the voice of +Balthazar," and they hastened to meet him, for he was now almost at +the summit, and the refrain of his song was still upon his lips. At +that moment Balthazar sprang up from the sloping path into full view +of the two men, and, giving each a hand, exclaimed: "Gaspard, +Melchoir, beloved companions, I have found you at last. The peasants +below were not mistaken. From their description, I was certain I +should find you here. And you, too, have been searching these long +years for the kingdom of the Christ! and, like me, you have met with +disappointment; but, comrades, be not of faint heart: + + Door, there's none that shall not ope; + Path, there's none that shall not clear. + +Let us hasten down the mountain, for see! the sky is already growing +gold and crimson beyond the pillars of Hercules. Let us seek the +wayfarer's lodging with the hospitable peasants in the valley, and +tomorrow let us begin our search for the Christ anew. We have wandered +alone; let us invoke now the star to guide us together." + +[Sidenote: Forget Not Hospitality] + +That night, therefore, the three strangers lodged with the simple +peasant people in the valley, partaking with thankfulness of the +coarse bread, the dates and the red wine--the common fare of their +daily life. Nor did they fail to notice a motto inscribed above the +fireplace in rude Greek letters: + + * * * * * + +On the morrow they were ready to begin their search together for the +Christ, and they hoped not to wander far before they should find at +least the outskirts of His kingdom. But whither should they go? In +what direction should they first turn their steps? + +[Sidenote: Once More a Star] + +While they were thus wondering and debating, Balthazar suddenly +exclaimed: "I see the star!" And behold, a little way before them, and +at no great distance above their heads, they discerned in the gray of +the early morning a star of pale, opal light, which seemed to move +forward as the men moved toward it. + +"We must follow the star!" Balthazar said in a whisper. Silently and +breathlessly his companions followed on. + +Now, so intently did the three men keep their eyes fixed upon the +star, and so eagerly did they follow in the direction where it seemed +to lead, that it was only after a considerable time they discovered +that they had become separated from each other, and that their paths +were getting farther and farther apart. Yet, there before each of them +was the star, shining with its soft, opalescent light, and still +ringing in their ears were the words of Balthazar--"we must follow +the star." + +[Sidenote: The Star Stands Still] + +So each followed the star, each by himself alone. Gaspard's path +wound along near the shore of the gulfs and bays of the Mediterranean, +until at last the the star turned southward and drew him nearer and +nearer to a great city, and finally stood still over the dome of a +vast cathedral. "It must be," thought Gaspard, "that I have come to +the end of my search. This must be the capital and palace of the +eternal king." + +[Sidenote: Marbled Aisle's Magnificence] + +The square in front of the cathedral was thronged with people; +multitudes were pouring in through the great portals. Gaspard joined +the throngs, and at last found himself under the mighty dome, which +seemed to him as far away as the sky itself. Everything in this +wonderful place appealed to his imagination. There were great rows of +massive columns, symbol of a strength eternal, and they seemed like +wide-open arms holding out a welcome to the human race. There were +statues and paintings by great masters in art. The light of the sun +poured in through many-colored windows, on which were blazoned the +deeds of heroes and saints. Strains of music from the great organ in +the distance floated out upon the air. Touched and thrilled by all he +saw, Gaspard exclaimed to himself: "The place on which I stand is +holy ground." + +[Sidenote: Kyrie Eleison] + +Soon, however, he perceived that the throngs of people were not +lingering, like himself, in awe and wonder over the great columns and +the dome, and the statues, and the paintings, and the windows. Their +eyes were fixed intently upon something that was going on in the far +end of the cathedral. An altar was there, and priests in white robes +passing up and down before it, and tall tapers burning around it. Near +the altar was the image of a man hanging from a cross; his hands and +feet were pierced with nails, and a cruel wound was in his side. The +people were gazing at this altar, and at the image, and at what the +white-robed priests were doing. The strains of solemn music from the +organ blended with the voices of priests chanting the service. Clouds +of incense rose from censers, swung with solemn motion by the +altar-boys, and the fragrance of the incense was wafted down the long +aisles. At last, the tinkling of a bell. The organ became silent for +an instant, as though it felt within its heart the awful solemnity of +the moment; and then it burst forth into new rapture, and the people +began pouring out through the great doors. + +[Sidenote: We Must Follow the Star] + +Gaspard went forth with the throng into the cathedral square. "And +this," he said, "is the end of my search. I have found the Christ. His +kingdom is in the imagination of man. How beautiful, how wonderful, +how strange it was! 'Dominus vobiscum,' did not the priests say? Here, +then, at last I have found the city of the great King." + +But as he lingered, behold! the star which had stood over the dome +of the cathedral was now before him, as at first, and seemed to waver +and tremble, as if beckoning him on. So, although his feet seemed +bound to the spot, and his heart was still throbbing with the deep +feelings the cathedral service had created in him, remembering the +words of Balthazar, "we must follow the star," he slowly and reluctantly +walked on. + +[Sidenote: The Just Shall Live by Faith] + +In the meantime Melchoir also had followed faithfully the path along +which the star seemed to lead. Through forests in which he almost lost +his way, across rivers difficult and dangerous to ford--still he +followed on. At length Melchoir's star seemed to tarry over the spire +of a gothic church, into which the people were going in throngs. +Waiting a moment, to be sure that the star was actually standing +still, Melchoir went in with the rest. In this place was no altar, +such as Gaspard saw; no image on the cross; no white-robed priests; no +swinging censers. But, as Melchoir entered he heard strains from the +organ, and a chorus of voices was singing an anthem beginning with +the words, "Te Deum Laudamus." And when the anthem came to a close, a +man clothed in a black robe, such as scholars were wont to wear, rose +in his place upon a platform elevated above the people, and began to +speak to them about the kingdom of Christ. Melchoir listened in eager +expectancy. [Sidenote: The Truth Shall Make You Free] "The kingdom of +the Christ," the preacher said, "is the kingdom of the truth, and the +truth is to be continued and kept alive by the strength of man's belief. +Those things which have been handed down by holy men and sacred oracles +since Christ was here upon the earth, are the truths by which we live. +How can Christ live except He live in our beliefs? Why did the Father +of all intrust us with our reasons, unless it were that we should +make them the instruments of our faith and our salvation? Let us +therefore stand in our places, while we recite together the articles +of our holy faith." + +These and many such words did the scholar-preacher declare. And as he +sat there with the people, Melchoir felt the weight of the solemn and +earnest words, and he said: "So at last have I come to the end of my +search. The kingdom of Christ is in the mind of man. His kingdom is +the kingdom of the truth." + +[Sidenote: More Light Shall Break Forth] + +Then he followed the throngs as they went forth from the church; but +the star which had tarried over the lofty spire was now before him, +and the opal light wavered and trembled, as if beckoning him on; and +the words of the preacher, "we must believe," seemed to blend with the +words of Balthazar, "we must follow the star." So, reluctantly and +slowly he followed on. + +[Sidenote: Thy Sacramental Liturgies] + +But Balthazar--whither went he, following the star? Over many a rugged +way, through many a tangled thicket, through valleys and over hills. +His star tarried over no cathedrals; it lingered over no Gothic +spires. It seemed capricious and restless and tireless. At times it +seemed intent on coming to a pause over the head of some human being, +but perhaps it was because these human beings themselves were so +restless and so busy that the star could not accomplish its intent. +For Balthazar saw these men and women hurrying hither and thither on +errands of mercy, or deeds of justice; he saw them ferreting out great +wrongs, laying heavy blows on the backs of men who oppressed and +defrauded their fellow men. + +At length Balthazar seemed to understand the movements of the star, +and, drawing nearer, he would seem to hear these men repeating +cheering and encouraging words to one another. "Pure religion and +undefiled," he heard one exclaiming, "is to visit the fatherless and +widows in their affliction, and to keep himself unspotted from the +world." And another echoed, "Inasmuch as we do it to the least of +these, we do it unto Christ." + +[Sidenote: The Joy of Doing Good] + +"Ah! thought Balthazar as he listened, I see the meaning of it now; I +am coming to the end of my search. The kingdom of Christ--I have found +it. It is in the deeds of men; it is in the conscience and the serving +will. Devotion to right, this is the law of the kingdom of Christ." + +Then Balthazar turned to go in search of his comrades again; but +behold! the opal star was trembling, as if beckoning him on. So, still +doubting if he had reached the end of his search, he followed the +star. + +[Sidenote: The Paths Converge] + +Thus Gaspard, Melchoir and Balthazar, each following the star, at last +approached each other. The star of each seemed to melt and blend into +the star of the others, and the opal light stood at last in the center +of the group. Gaspard exclaimed: "I have found that which we all were +seeking. The kingdom of Christ is in the imagination; Christ lives in +what man feels." + +"Nay," said Melchoir, "I have followed the star, and I have found what +we sought. The kingdom of Christ is in the reason of man. Christ lives +in what man believes." + +"But," cried Balthazar, "my star has led me to a different end. The +kingdom of Christ is in the will of man. Christ lives in what man +does." + +"The truth," once more exclaimed Melchoir, "is the law of the +kingdom." + +"Not truth," declared Balthazar, "but justice, righteousness, goodness +and purity--these are its laws and its marks." + +"Nay, comrades beloved, hearken to me," answered Gaspard, "it is the +miracle of the divine presence. It is God among men, realized in the +holy mass. I beheld it all in yonder cathedral." + +But lo! once more the star began to tremble and to change its place. + +"Let us follow the star!" Balthazar whispered. "We will follow it," +echoed the other two. + +[Sidenote: Once More the Quest] + +Then the star led them on, and they followed together until they came +at length to the doorway of a little cottage; and within the cottage +they saw a woman bending over a cradle, and in the cradle a little +child lay sleeping. She was a peasant woman; her clothing was not +rich; the furnishing of the cottage was humble and scanty. The cradle +itself was rude, as if put together by hands unskilful in tasks like +that. But when the mother looked at her babe a sweet smile played +about her lips, and a light was in her eyes. Then all suddenly the +three men remembered another scene long before, when they were bearers +of gold and frankincense and myrrh to another babe. + +[Sidenote: He That Loveth Knoweth God] + +And while they stood and wondered by the door, there came a strong and +sturdy peasant, broad-shouldered, roughly clad, his face browned in +the sun, his hands hardened with toil. He came and stood beside the +woman, and they bent together over the cradle of the sleeping child, +and the man drew the woman tenderly toward him and kissed her brow. + +And still the three men lingered; for behold! the star stood still +above the child, and they dared not speak. But the heart of Gaspard +was saying in silence, "There is something greater than the repeated +miracle of the mass." + +And Melchoir was thinking, "There is something mightier even than the +mind; something superior to naked truth." + +[Sidenote: For God Is Love] + +And Balthazar was confessing to himself that he had found something +more potent even than the righteous deed. For here they all beheld +how life was made sweet and blessed and holy by the power of love; and +by love for a little child, in whom was all weakness and helplessness, +whose only voice was a cry, but who was all strong and mighty with the +power of God, because he could transform roughness into tenderness, +and selfishness into loving care, and poverty itself into gifts of +gold and fragrant myrrh. + +"Truly, my comrades," Balthazar said, "love is the greatest of all." + +"And now I understand," said Gaspard, "how the weak things of the +world can confound the mighty." + +"And I," added Melchoir, "see what it means for God to come to earth +in the form of a little child." + +And so they turned away, and the radiance of the star was round about +them, and they were saying to each other: "Our search at last is +ended." + +[*] Reprinted with the permission of "The Sketching Club," +Indianapolis, Ind. + + + + +LITTLE GRETCHEN AND THE WOODEN SHOE[*] + +By Elizabeth Harrison + + +Once upon a time, a long time ago, far away across the great ocean, in +a country called Germany, there could be seen a small log hut on the +edge of a great forest, whose fir trees extended for miles and miles +to the north. This little house, made of heavy hewn logs, had but one +room in it. A rough pine door gave entrance to this room, and a small +square window admitted the light. At the back of the house was built +an old-fashioned stone chimney, out of which in winter curled a thin, +blue smoke, showing that there was not very much fire within. + +Small as the house was, it was large enough for two people who lived +in it. I want to tell you a story today about these two people. One +was an old gray-haired woman, so old that the little children of the +village, nearly half a mile away, often wondered whether she had come +into the world with the huge mountains and the giant fir trees, which +stood like giants back of her small hut. Her face was wrinkled all +over with deep lines, which, if the children could only have read +aright, would have told them of many years of cheerful, happy, +self-sacrifice; of loving, anxious, watching beside sick-beds; of +quiet endurance of pain, of many a day of hunger and cold, and of a +thousand deeds of unselfish love for other people; but, of course, +they could not read this strange handwriting. They only knew that she +was old and wrinkled, and that she stooped as she walked. None of +them seemed to fear her, for her smile was always cheerful, and she +had a kindly word for each of them if they chanced to meet her on her +way to and from the village. With this old, old woman lived a very +little girl. So bright and happy was she that the travellers who +passed by the lonesome little house on the edge of the forest often +thought of a sunbeam as they saw her. These two people were known in +the village as Granny Goodyear and Little Gretchen. + +The winter had come and the frost had snapped off many of the smaller +branches of the pine trees in the forest. Gretchen and her granny were +up by daybreak each morning. After their simple breakfast of oatmeal, +Gretchen would run to the little closet and fetch Granny's old woolen +shawl, which seemed almost as old as Granny herself. Gretchen always +claimed the right to put the shawl over Granny's head, even though she +had to climb onto the wooden bench to do it. After carefully pinning +it under Granny's chin, she gave her a good-bye kiss, and Granny +started out for her morning's work in the forest. This work was +nothing more nor less than the gathering up of the twigs and branches +which the autumn winds and winter frosts had thrown upon the ground. +These were carefully gathered into a large bundle which Granny tied +together with a strong linen band. She then managed to lift the bundle +to her shoulder and trudged off to the village with it. Here she sold +the fagots for kindling wood to the people of the village. Sometimes +she would get only a few pence each day, and sometimes a dozen or +more, but on this money little Gretchen and she managed to live; they +had their home, and the forest kindly furnished the wood for the fire +which kept them warm in winter. + +In the summer time Granny had a little garden at the back of the +house, where she raised, with little Gretchen's help, a few potatoes +and turnips and onions. These she carefully stored away for winter +use. To this meagre supply, the pennies, gained by selling the twigs +from the forest, added the oatmeal for Gretchen and a little black +coffee for Granny. Meat was a thing they never thought of having. It +cost too much money. Still, Granny and Gretchen were very happy, +because they loved each other dearly. Sometimes Gretchen would be left +alone all day long in the hut, because Granny would have some work to +do in the village after selling her bundle of sticks and twigs. It was +during these long days that little Gretchen had taught herself to sing +the song which the wind sang to the pine branches. In the summer time +she learned the chirp and twitter of the birds, until her voice might +almost be mistaken for a bird's voice, she learned to dance as the +swaying shadows did, and even to talk to the stars which shone through +the little square window when Granny came home late or too tired to +talk. + +Sometimes, when the weather was fine, or her Granny had an extra +bundle of knitted stockings to take to the village, she would let +little Gretchen go along with her. It chanced that one of these trips +to the town came just the week before Christmas, and Gretchen's eyes +were delighted by the sight of the lovely Christmas trees which stood +in the window of the village store. It seemed to her that she would +never tire of looking at the knit dolls, the woolly lambs, the little +wooden shops with their queer, painted men and women in them, and all +the other fine things. She had never owned a plaything in her whole +life; therefore, toys which you and I would not think much of seemed +to her very beautiful. + +That night, after their supper of baked potatoes was over, and little +Gretchen had cleared away the dishes and swept up the hearth, because +Granny dear was so tired, she brought her own little wooden stool and +placed it very near Granny's feet and sat down upon it, folding her +hands on her lap. Granny knew that this meant that she wanted to be +told about something, so she smilingly laid away the large Bible which +she had been reading, and took up her knitting, which was as much as +to say: "Well, Gretchen, dear, Granny is ready to listen." + +"Granny," said Gretchen slowly, "It's almost Christmas time, isn't +it?" + +"Yes, dearie," said Granny, "only five days more now," and then she +sighed, but little Gretchen was so happy that she did not notice +Granny's sigh. + +"What do you think, Granny, I'll get this Christmas?" said she, +looking up eagerly into Granny's face. + +"Ah, child, child," said Granny, shaking her head, "you'll have no +Christmas this year. We are too poor for that." + +"Oh, but Granny," interrupted little Gretchen, "think of all the +beautiful toys we saw in the village today. Surely Santa Claus has +sent enough for every little child." + +"Ah, dearie, those toys are for people who can pay for them, and we +have no money to spend for Christmas toys." + +"Well, Granny," said Gretchen, "perhaps some of the little children +who live in the great house on the hill at the other end of the +village, will be willing to share some of their toys with me. They +will be glad to give some to a little girl who has none." + +"Dear child, dear child," said Granny, leaning forward and stroking +the soft, shiny hair of the little girl, "your heart is full of love. +You would be glad to bring a Christmas to every child; but their heads +are so full of what they are going to get that they forget all about +anybody else but themselves." Then she sighed and shook her head. + +"Well, Granny," said Gretchen, her bright, happy tone of voice growing +a little less joyous, "perhaps the dear Santa Claus will show some of +the village children how to make presents that do not cost money, and +some of them may surprise me Christmas morning with a present. And, +Granny, dear," added she, springing up from her low stool, "can't I +gather some of the pine branches and take them to the old sick man who +lives in the house by the mill, so that he can have the sweet smell of +our forest in his room all Christmas day?" + +"Yes, dearie," said Granny, "you may do what you can to make the +Christmas bright and happy, but you must not expect any present +yourself." + +"Oh, but, Granny," said little Gretchen, her face brightening, "you +forgot all about the shining Christmas angels, who came down to earth +and sang their wonderful song the night the beautiful Christ-Child was +born! They are so loving and good that _they_ will not forget any +little child. I shall ask my dear stars tonight to tell them of us. +You know," she added, with a look of relief, "the stars are so very +high that they must know the angels quite well as they come and go +with their messages from the loving God." + +Granny sighed as she half whispered. "Poor child, poor child!" but +Gretchen threw her arm around Granny's neck and gave her a hearty +kiss, saying as she did so: "Oh, Granny, Granny, you don't talk to the +stars often enough, else you would not be sad at Christmas time." Then +she danced all around the room, whirling her little skirts about her +to show Granny how the wind had made the snow dance that day. She +looked so droll and funny that Granny forgot her cares and worries and +laughed with little Gretchen over her new snow dance. The days passed +on and the morning before Christmas Eve came. Gretchen having tidied +up the little room--for Granny had taught her to be a careful little +housewife--was off to the forest, singing a birdlike song, almost as +happy and free as the birds themselves. She was very busy that day +preparing a surprise for Granny. First, however, she gathered the most +beautiful of the fir branches within her reach to take the next +morning to the old sick man who lived by the mill. + +The day was all too short for the happy little girl. When Granny came +trudging wearily home that night, she found the frame of the doorway +covered with green pine branches. + +"It is to welcome you, Granny! It is to welcome you!" cried Gretchen; +"our dear old home wanted to give you a Christmas welcome. Don't you +see, the branches of the evergreen make it look as if it were smiling +all over, and it is trying to say, 'A happy Christmas to you Granny'." + +Granny laughed and kissed the little girl, as they opened the door and +went in together. Here was a new surprise for Granny. The four posts +of the wooden bed, which stood in one corner of the room, had been +trimmed by the busy little fingers, with smaller and more flexible +branches of the pine trees. A small bouquet of red mountain ash +berries stood at each side of the fireplace, and these, together with +the trimmed posts of the bed, gave the plain old room quite a festive +look. Gretchen laughed and clapped her hands and danced about until +the house seemed full of music to poor, tired Granny, whose heart had +been sad as she turned toward their home that night, thinking of the +disappointment that must come to loving little Gretchen the next +morning. + +After supper was over little Gretchen drew her stool up to Granny's +side, and laying her soft, little hands on Granny's knee asked to be +told once again the story of the coming of the Christ-Child; how the +night that he was born the beautiful angels had sung their wonderful +song, and how the whole sky had become bright with a strange and +glorious light, never seen by the people of earth before. Gretchen had +heard the story many, many times before, but she never grew tired of +it, and now that Christmas Eve had come again, the happy little child +wanted to hear it once more. + +When Granny had finished telling it the two sat quiet and silent for a +little while thinking it over; then Granny rose and said that it was +time for her to go to bed. She slowly took off her heavy wooden shoes, +such as are worn in that country, and placed them beside the hearth. +Gretchen looked thoughtfully at them for a minute or two, and then she +said, "Granny, don't you think that _somebody_ in all this wide world +will think of us tonight?" + +"Nay, Gretchen, I do not think any one will." + +"Well, then, Granny," said Gretchen, "the Christmas angels will, I +know; so I am going to take one of your wooden shoes and put it on the +windowsill outside, so that they may see it as they pass by. I am sure +the stars will tell the Christmas angels where the shoe is." + +"Ah, you foolish, foolish child," said Granny, "you are only getting +ready for a disappointment. Tomorrow morning there will be nothing +whatever in the shoe. I can tell you that now." + +But little Gretchen would not listen. She only shook her head and +cried out: "Ah, Granny, you do not talk enough to the stars." With +this she seized the shoe, and opening the door, hurried out to place +it on the window sill. It was very dark without and something soft and +cold seemed to gently kiss her hair and face. Gretchen knew by this +that it was snowing, and she looked up to the sky, anxious to see if +the stars were in sight, but a strong wind was tumbling the dark, +heavy snow-clouds about and had shut away all else. + +"Never mind," said Gretchen softly to herself, "the stars are up +there, even if I can't see them, and the Christmas angels do not mind +snow storms." + +Just then a rough wind went sweeping by the little girl, whispering +something to her which she could not understand, and then it made a +sudden rush up to the snow clouds and parted them, so that the deep +mysterious sky appeared beyond, and shining down out of the midst of +it was Gretchen's favorite star. + +"Ah, little star, little star!" said the child, laughing aloud, "I +knew you were there, though I could not see you. Will you whisper to +the Christmas angels as they come by that little Gretchen wants so +very much to have a Christmas gift tomorrow morning, if they have one +to spare, and that she has put one of Granny's shoes upon the +windowsill for it?" + +A moment more and the little girl, standing on tiptoe had reached the +windowsill and placed the shoe upon it, and was back again in the +house beside Granny and the warm fire. + +The two went quietly to bed, and that night as little Gretchen knelt +to pray to the Heavenly Father, she thanked him for having sent the +Christ-Child into the world to teach all mankind to be loving and +unselfish, and in a few minutes she was sleeping, dreaming of the +Christmas angels. + +The next morning, very early, even before the sun was up, little +Gretchen was awakened by the sound of sweet music coming from the +village. She listened for a moment and then she knew that the choir +boys were singing the Christmas carols in the open air of the village +street. She sprang up out of bed and began to dress herself as quickly +as possible, singing as she dressed. While Granny was slowly putting +on her clothes, little Gretchen having finished dressing herself, +unfastened the door and hurried out to see what the Christmas angels +had left in the old wooden shoe. + +The white snow covered everything--trees, stumps, roads, and +pastures--until the whole world looked like fairy land. Gretchen +climbed up on a large stone which was beneath the window and carefully +lifted down the wooden shoe. The snow tumbled off of it in a shower +over the little girl's hands, but she did not heed that; she ran +hurriedly back into the house, putting her hand into the toe of the +shoe as she ran. + +"Oh, Granny, Granny!" she exclaimed; "you did not believe the +Christmas angels would think about us, but see, they have, they have! +Here is a dear little bird nestled down in the toe of your shoe! Oh, +isn't he beautiful?" + +Granny came forward and looked at what the child was holding lovingly +in her hand. There she saw a tiny chick-a-dee, whose wing was +evidently broken by the rough and boisterous winds of the night +before, and who had taken shelter in the safe, dry toe of the old +wooden shoe. She gently took the little bird out of Gretchen's hands, +and skilfully bound his broken wing to his side, so that he need not +hurt himself trying to fly with it. Then she showed Gretchen how to +make a nice warm nest for the little stranger, close beside the fire +and when their breakfast was ready, she let Gretchen feed the little +bird with a few moist crumbs. + +Later in the day Gretchen carried the fresh, green boughs to the old +sick man by the mill, and on her way home stopped to enjoy the +Christmas toys of some other children that she knew, never once +wishing they were hers. When she reached home she found that the +little bird had gone to sleep. Soon, however, he opened his eyes and +stretched his head up, saying just as plain as a bird can say: + +"Now, my new friends, I want you to give me something more to eat." +Gretchen gladly fed him again, and then, holding him in her lap, she +softly and gently stroked his gray feathers until the little creature +seemed to lose all fear of her. That evening Granny taught her a +Christmas hymn and told her another beautiful Christmas story. Then +Gretchen made up a funny little story to tell the birdie. He winked +his eyes and turned his head from side to side in such a droll fashion +that Gretchen laughed until the tears came. + +As Granny and she got ready for bed that night, Gretchen put her arms +softly around Granny's neck, and whispered: "What a beautiful +Christmas we have had today, Granny. Is there anything more lovely in +all the world than Christmas?" + +"Nay, child, nay," said Granny, "not to such loving hearts as yours." + +[*] Reprinted by permission of the author from her collection, +"Christmastide." Published by the Chicago Kindergarten College. + + + + +THE LITTLE SHEPHERD[*] + +By Maud Lindsay + + +The shepherd was sick and the shepherd's wife looked out from her door +with anxious eyes. "Who will carry the sheep to the pasture lands +today?" she said to her little boy Jean. + +"I will," cried Jean, "I will. Mother, let me." + +Jean and his father and mother lived long ago in a sunny land across +the sea, where flowers bloom, and birds sing, and shepherds feed their +flocks in the green valleys. Every morning, as soon as it was light, +Jean's father was up and away with his sheep. He had never missed a +morning before, and the sheep were bleating in the fold as if to say, +"Don't forget us today." + +The sheep were Jean's playfellows. There was nothing he liked better +than to wander with them in the pleasant pastures, and already they +knew his voice and followed at his call. + +"Let the lad go," said his old grandfather. "When I was no older than +he I watched my father's flock." + +Jean's father said the same thing, so the mother made haste to get the +little boy ready. + +"Eat your dinner when the shadows lie straight across the grass," she +said as she kissed him good-bye. + +"And keep the sheep from the forest paths," called his sick father. + +"And watch, for it is when the shepherd is not watching that the wolf +comes to the flock," said the old grandfather. + +"Never fear," said little Jean. "The wolf shall not have any of my +white lambs." + +They were white sheep and black sheep and frolicsome lambs in the +shepherd's flock, and each one had a name of its own. There was +Babbette, and Nannette, and Pierrot, and Jeannot,--I cannot tell them +all, but Jean knew every name. + +"Come, Bettine and Marie. Come, Pierrot and Croisette. Come, pretty +ones all," he called as he led them from the fold that day. "I will +carry you to the meadows where the daisies grow." + +"Baa," answered the sheep, well satisfied, as they followed him down +the king's highway, and over the hill to the pasture lands. + +The other shepherds were already there with their flocks, so Jean was +not lonely. He watered his sheep at the dancing brook that ran through +the flowers, and led them along its shady banks to feed in the sunny +fields beyond, and not one lambkin strayed from his care to the forest +paths. + +The forest lay dim and shadowy on one side of the pasture lands. The +deer lived there, and the boars that fed upon acorns, and many other +creatures that loved the wild woods. There had been wolves in the +forest, but the king's knights had driven them away and the shepherds +feared them no longer. Only the old men like Jean's grandfather, and +the little boys like Jean, talked of them still. + +Jean was not afraid. Oh, no. There was not a lamb in the flock so +merry and fearless as he. He sang with the birds and ran with the +brook, and laughed till the echoes laughed with him as he watched the +sheep from early morn to noon, when the shadows fell straight across +the grass and it was time for him to eat his dinner. + +There were little cakes in Jean's dinner basket. He had seen his +mother put them there, but he had not tasted a single one when, out on +the king's highway, beyond the hill, he heard the sound of pipes and +drums, and the tramp, tramp of many feet. + +The other shepherds heard too, and they began to listen and to stare +and to run. "The king and his knights are coming," they cried. "Come +let us see them as they pass by." + +"Who will take care of the sheep?" asked Jean, but nobody answered, so +he too left his dinner and ran with the rest, away from the pastures +and up the hillside path that led to the highway. + +"How pleased my mother will be when I tell her that I have seen the +king," he said to himself, and he was hurrying over the hill top when +all at once he remembered the forest, and the wolf, and his +grandfather's words. + +"Come on," called the others. + +"I must stay with the sheep," answered he; and he turned and went +back, though the pipes and the drums all seemed to say, "Come this +way, come this way." He could scarcely keep from crying as he +listened. + +There was nothing in sight to harm the sheep, and the pasture lands +were quiet and peaceful, but into the forest that very day a hungry +gray wolf had come. His eyes were bright and his ears were sharp and +his four feet were as soft as velvet, as he came creeping, creeping, +creeping under the houses and through the tanglewood. He put his nose +out and sniffed the air, and he put his head out and spied the sheep +left alone in the meadows. "Now's my chance," he said, and out he +sprang just as little Jean down the hill. + +"Wolf, wolf, wolf!" shouted Jean. "Wolf, wolf, wolf!" He was only a +little boy, but he was brave and his voice rang clear as a bugle call +over the valley, and over the hill, "Wolf, wolf, wolf!" + +The shepherds and knights and the king himself came running and riding +to answer his cry, and as for the gray wolf, he did not even stop to +look behind him as he sped away to the forest shades. He ran so fast +and he ran so far that he was never seen in the king's country again, +though the shepherds in the pastures watched for him day after day. + +Jean led his flock home at eventide, white sheep and black sheep and +frolicsome lambs, not one was missing. + +"Was the day long?" asked his mother, who was watching in the doorway +for him. + +"Are the sheep all in?" called the sick father. + +"Did the wolf come?" said the old grandfather; but there is no need +for me to tell you what _Jean_ said. You can imagine that for +yourself. + +[*] From "More Mother Stories," by Maud Lindsay. Used by permission of +the author and the publishers--the Milton Bradley Company. + + + + +BABOUSCKA[*] + +Russian Legend + + +It was the night the dear Christ Child came to Bethlehem. In a country +far away from Him, an old, old woman named Babouscka sat in her snug +little house by her warm fire. The wind was drifting the snow outside +and howling down the chimney, but it only made Babouscka's fire burn +more brightly. + +"How glad I am that I may stay indoors!" said Babouscka, holding her +hands out to the bright blaze. But suddenly she heard a loud rap at +her door. She opened it and her candle shone on three old men standing +outside in the snow. Their beards were as white as the snow, and so +long that they reached the ground. Their eyes shone kindly in the +light of Babouscka's candle, and their arms were full of precious +things--boxes of jewels, and sweet-smelling oils, and ointments. + +"We have traveled far, Babouscka," said they, "and we stop to tell you +of the Baby Prince born this night in Bethlehem. He comes to rule the +world and teach all men to be loving and true. We carry Him gifts. +Come with us, Babouscka!" + +But Babouscka looked at the driving snow, and then inside at her cozy +room and the crackling fire. "It is too late for me to go with you, +good sirs," she said, "the weather is too cold." She went inside again +and shut the door, and the old men journeyed on to Bethlehem without +her. But as Babouscka sat by her fire, rocking, she began to think +about the little Christ Child, for she loved all babies. + +"Tomorrow I will go to find Him," she said; "tomorrow, when it is +light, and I will carry Him some toys." + +So when it was morning Babouscka put on her long cloak, and took her +staff, and filled a basket with the pretty things a baby would +like--gold balls, and wooden toys, and strings of silver cobwebs--and +she set out to find the Christ Child. + +But, oh! Babouscka had forgotten to ask the three old men the road to +Bethlehem, and they had traveled so far through the night that she +could not overtake them. Up and down the roads she hurried, through +woods and fields and towns, saying to whomsoever she met: "I go to +find the Christ Child. Where does he lie? I bring some pretty toys for +His sake." + +But no one could tell her the way to go, and they all said: "Farther +on, Babouscka, farther on." So she traveled on, and on, and on for +years and years--but she never found the little Christ Child. + +They say that old Babouscka is traveling still, looking for Him. When +it comes Christmas eve, and the children are lying fast asleep, +Babouscka comes softly through the snowy fields and towns, wrapped in +her long cloak and carrying her basket on her arm. With her staff she +raps gently at the doors and goes inside and holds her candle close to +the little children's faces. + +"Is He here?" she asks. "Is the little Christ Child here?" And then +she turns sorrowfully away again, crying: "Farther on, farther on." +But before she leaves she takes a toy from her basket and lays it +beside the pillow for a Christmas gift. "For His sake," she says +softly and then hurries on through the years and forever in search of +the little Christ Child. + +[*] From "For the Children's Hour," by Bailey and Lewis. Used by +permission of the authors and also the publishers--Milton Bradley +Company. + + + + +THE BOY WITH THE BOX + +By Mary Griggs Van Voorhis + + +It was an ideal Christmas day. The sun shone brightly but the air was +crisp and cold, and snow and ice lay sparkling everywhere. A light +wind, the night before, had swept the blue, icebound river clean of +scattering snow; and, by two o'clock in the afternoon, the broad bend +near Creighton's mill was fairly alive with skaters. The girls in gay +caps and scarfs, the boys in sweaters and mackinaws of every +conceivable hue, with here and there a plump, matronly figure in a +plush coat or a tiny fellow in scarlet, made a picture of life and +brilliancy worthy of an artist's finest skill. + +Tom Reynolds moved in and out among the happy throng, with swift, easy +strokes, his cap on the back of his curly head, and his brown eyes +shining with excitement. Now and again, he glanced down with +pardonable pride, at the brand new skates that twinkled beneath his +feet. "Jolly Ramblers," sure enough "Jolly Ramblers" they were! Ever +since Ralph Evans had remarked, with a tantalizing toss of his +handsome head, that "no game fellow would try to skate on anything but +'Jolly Ramblers,'" Tom had yearned, with an inexpressible longing, for +a pair of these wonderful skates. And now they were his and the ice +was fine and the Christmas sun was shining! + +Tom was rounding the big bend for the fiftieth time, when he saw, +skimming gracefully toward him through the merry crowd, a tall boy in +a fur-trimmed coat, his handsome head proudly erect. + +"That's Ralph Evans now," said Tom to himself. "Just wait till you see +these skates, old boy, and maybe you won't feel so smart!" And with +slow, cautious strokes, he made his way through laughing boys and +girls to a place just in front of the tall skater, coming toward him +down the broad white way. When Ralph was almost upon him, Tom paused +and in conspicuous silence, looked down at his shining skates. + +"Hullo," said Ralph good naturedly, seizing Tom's arm and swinging +around. Then, taking in the situation with a careless glance, he +added, "Get a new pair of skates for Christmas?" + +"'Jolly Ramblers,'" said Tom impressively, "the best 'Jolly Ramblers' +in the market!" + +Ralph was a full half head the taller, but, as Tom delivered himself +of this speech with his head held high, he felt every inch as tall as +the boy before him. + +If Ralph was deeply impressed he failed to show it, as he answered +carelessly, "Huh, that so? Pretty good little skates they are, the +'Jolly Ramblers!'" + +"You said no game fellow would use any other make," said Tom hotly. + +"O but that was nearly a year ago," said Ralph. "I got a new pair of +skates for Christmas, too," he added, as if it had just occurred to +him, "'Club House' skates, something new in the market just this +season. Just look at the curve of that skate, will you?" he added, +lifting a foot for inspection, "and that clamp that you couldn't shake +off if you had to! They're guaranteed for a year, too, and if anything +gives out, you get a new pair for nothing. Three and a half, they +cost, at Mr. Harrison's hardware store. I gave my 'Jolly Ramblers' to +a kid about your size. A mighty good little skate they are!" And, with +a long, graceful stroke, Ralph Evans skated away. + +And it seemed to Tom Reynolds that all his Christmas joy went skimming +away behind him. The sun still shone, the ice still gleamed, the +skaters laughed and sang, but Tom moved slowly on, with listless, +heavy strokes. The "Jolly Ramblers" still twinkled beneath his feet, +but he looked down at them no more. What was the use of "Jolly +Ramblers" when Ralph Evans had a pair of "Club House" skates that cost +a dollar more, had a graceful curve, and a faultless clamp, and were +guaranteed for a year? + +It was only four o'clock when Tom slipped his new skates carelessly +over his shoulder and started up the bank for home. He was slouching +down the main street, head down, hands thrust deep into his pockets, +when, on turning a corner, he ran plump into--a full moon! Now I know +it is rather unusual for full moons to be walking about the streets by +daylight; but that is the only adequate description of the round, +freckled face that beamed at Tom from behind a great box, held by two +sturdy arms. + +"That came pretty near being a collision," said the owner of the full +moon, still beaming, as he set down the box and leaned against a +building to rest a moment. + +"Nobody hurt, I guess," said Tom. + +"Been down to the ice?" asked the boy, eagerly. "I could see the +skaters from Patton's store. O, I see, you got some new skates for +Christmas! Ain't they beauties, now?" And he beamed on the despised +"Jolly Ramblers" with his heart in his little blue eyes. + +"A pretty good little pair of skates," said Tom, in Ralph's +condescending tone. + +"Good! Well I should guess yes! And Christmas ice just made o' +purpose!" In spite of his ill humor, Tom could not help responding to +the warm interest of the shabby boy at his side. He knew him to be +Harvey McGinnis, the son of a poor Irish widow, who worked at Patton's +department store out of school hours. Looking at the great box with an +awakening interest, he remarked, kindly, "What you been doin' with +yourself on Christmas day?" + +"Want to know, sure enough?" said Harvey, mysteriously, his round face +beaming more brightly than ever, "Well, I've been doin' the Santy +Claus act down at Patton's store. + +"About a week ago," he went on, leaning back easily against the tall +building and thrusting his hands down deep into his well worn pockets, +"about a week ago, as I was cleaning out the storeroom, I came on +three big boxes with broken dolls in 'em. Beauties they were, I kin +tell you, the Lady Jane in a blue silk dress, the Lady Clarabel in +pink, and the Lady Matilda in shimmerin' white. Nothin' wrong with 'em +either only broken rubbers that put their jints out o' whack and set +their heads arollin' this way and that. 'They could be fixed in no +time, I ses to myself, 'and what a prize they'd be fer the kids to be +sure!' For mom and me had racked our brains considerable how we'd +scrape together the money for Christmas things for the girls. + +"So I went to the boss and I asked him right out what he'd charge me +for the three ladies just as they wus, and he ses, 'Jimmie,' he ses +(I've told him me name a dozen times, but he allus calls me 'Jimmie'), +'Jimmie,' he ses, 'if you'll come down on Christmas day and help me +take down the fixin's and fix up the store for regular trade, I'll +give you the dolls fer nothin',' he ses. + +"So I explained to the kids that Santy'd be late to our house this +year (with so many to see after it wouldn't be strange) and went down +to the store early this morning and finished me work and fixed up the +ladies es good es new. Would you like to be seein' 'em, now?" he +added, turning to the great box with a look of pride. + +"Sure, I'd like to see 'em," said Tom. + +With careful, almost reverent touch, Harvey untied the string and +opened the large box, disclosing three smaller boxes, one above the +other. Opening the first box, he revealed a really handsome doll in a +blue silk dress, with large dark eyes that opened and shut and dark, +curling locks of "real hair." + +"This is the Lady Jane," he said, smoothing her gay frock with gentle +fingers. "We're goin' to give her to Kitty. Kitty's hair is pretty and +curly, but she hates it, 'cause it's red; and she thinks black hair is +the prettiest kind in the world. Ain't it funny how all of us will be +wantin' what we don't have ourselves?" + +Tom did not reply to this bit of philosophy; but he laid a repentant +hand on the "Jolly Ramblers" as if he knew he had wronged them in his +heart. "That's as handsome a doll as ever I saw and no mistake," he +said. + +Pleased with this praise, Harvey opened the second box and disclosed +the Lady Matilda with fair golden curls and a dress of "shimmerin' +white." "The Lady Matilda goes to Josephine," said Harvey. "Josephine +has black hair, straight as a string, and won't she laugh, though, to +see them fetchin' yellow curls?" + +"She surely ought to be glad," said Tom. + +The Lady Clarabel was another fair-haired lady in a gown of the +brightest pink. "This here beauty's for the baby," said Harvey, his +eyes glowing. "She don't care if the hair's black or yellow, but won't +that stunnin' dress make her eyes pop out?" + +"They'll surely believe in Santy when they see those beauties," said +Tom. + +"That's just what I was sayin' to mom this morning," said Harvey. +"Kitty's had some doubts, (she's almost nine), but when she sees those +fine ladies she'll be dead sure mom and I didn't buy 'em. If I had a +Santy Claus suit, I'd dress up and hand 'em out myself." + +Tom's face lighted with a bright idea. "My brother Bob's got a Santa +Claus suit that he used in a show last Christmas," he said. "Say, let +me dress up and play Santa for you. The girls would never guess who I +was!" + +"Wouldn't they stare, though!" said Harvey, delightedly. "But do you +think you'd want to take time," he asked apologetically, "and you with +a new pair of skates and the ice like this?" + +"Of course, I want to if you'll let me," said Tom. "I'll skate down +the river and meet you anywhere you say." + +"Out in our back yard, then, at seven o'clock," said Harvey. + +"All right, I'll be there!" and with head up, and skates clinking, Tom +hurried away. + +It was a flushed, excited boy who burst into the Reynolds' quiet +sitting room a few minutes later, with his skates still hanging on his +shoulder and his cap in his hand. "Say, mother," he cried, "can I have +Bob's Santa Claus suit this evening, please? I'm going to play Santa +Claus for Harvey McGinnis!" + +"Play Santa Claus for Harvey McGinnis. What do you mean, child?" + +"You know Mrs. McGinnis, mother, that poor woman who lives in the +little house by the river. Her husband got killed on the railroad last +winter, you know. Well, Harvey, her boy, has fixed up some grand +looking dolls for his sisters and he wants me to come out and play +Santa tonight," and Tom launched out into a long story about Harvey +and his good fortune. + +"He must be a splendid boy," said Mrs. Reynolds, heartily, "and I am +sure I shall be glad to have you go." + +"And another thing, mother," said Tom, hesitating a little, "do you +think grandma would care if I spent part of that five dollars she gave +me for a pair of skates for Harvey? He hasn't any skates at all, and I +know he'd just love to have some!" + +"It is generous of you to think of it," said his mother, much pleased, +"and you would still have two and a half for that little trip down to +grandma's." + +"But I'd like to get him some 'Club House' skates," said Tom. "They're +a new kind that cost three dollars and a half." + +"But I thought you said the 'Jolly Ramblers' were the best skates +made?" Mrs. Reynolds looked somewhat hurt as she glanced from Tom to +the skates on his shoulder and back to Tom again. + +"They are, mother, they're just dandies!" said Tom blushing with +shame that he could ever have despised his mother's gift. "But these +'Club House' skates are just the kind for Harvey. You see, Harvey's +shoes are old and worn, and these 'Club House' skates have clamps that +you can't shake loose if you have to. Then, if anything happens to +them before the year's up, you get a new pair free; and Harvey, you +know, wouldn't have any money to be fixing skates." + +"Well, do as you like," said Mrs. Reynolds, pleased with Tom's +eagerness, for such a spell of generosity was something new in her +selfish younger son. "But remember, you will have to wait a while for +your visit to grandma." + +"All right, and thank you, mother," said Tom. "You can buy the skates +down at Harrison's and I'm going over and ask Mr. Harrison if he won't +open up the store and get a pair for me for a special time like this. +I'm most sure he will!" and away he flew. + +That evening, at seven, as the moon was rising over the eastern hills, +a short, portly Santa Claus stepped out of the dry reeds by the river +bank and walked with wonderfully nimble feet, right into the McGinnis' +little back yard. As he neared the small back porch, a dark figure +rose to greet him, one hand held up in warning, the other holding at +arm's length, a bulky grain sack, full to the brim. + +"Here's yer pack, Santy," he whispered, gleefully. "They're all +waitin' in the front room yonder. I'll slip in the back way, whilst +you go round and give a good thump at the front door and mom'll let +you in." + +Trembling with eagerness, Tom tiptoed round the house, managing to +slip an oblong package into the capacious depths of the big sack as +he did so. Thump, thump! how his knock reechoed in the frosty air! The +door swung wide, and Mrs. McGinnis' gaunt figure stood before him. + +"Good evenin', Santy, come right in," she said. + +Tom had always thought what a homely woman Harvey's mother was when he +happened to meet her at the grocery, with her thin red hair drawn +severely back from her gaunt face, and a black shawl over her head. +But as he looked up into her big, kind face, so full of Christmas +sunshine, he wondered he could ever have thought her anything but +lovely. The room was small and bare, but wonderfully gay with pine and +bits of red and green crepe paper, saved from the 'fixins' at the +store. And on a large bed in the corner sat the three little girls, +Kitty with her bright curls bobbing, Josephine with her black braids +sticking straight out, and the baby with tiny blue eyes that twinkled +and shone like Harvey's. + +The fine speech that Tom had been saying over to himself for the past +two hours seemed to vanish into thin air before this excited little +audience. But in faltering, stammering tones, which everyone was too +excited to notice, he managed to say something about "Merry Christmas" +and "good children" and then proceeded to open the magic sack. "Miss +Kitty McGinnis!" he called, in deep, gruff tones. Kitty took the box +he offered with shy embarrassment, slowly drew back the lid and gave a +cry of amazement and delight. "A doll, O the loveliest doll that ever +was!" she cried. Then turning to her brother, she whispered as softly +as excitement would permit, "O Harvey, I'm afeard ye paid too much!" + +"Aw, go on!" said Harvey, his face more like a full moon than ever. +"Don't ye know that Santy kin do whatever he wants to?" + +The other dolls were received with raptures, Josephine stroking the +golden curls of the Lady Matilda with wondering fingers, and the baby +dancing round and round, waving the pink-robed Lady Clarabel above her +head. + +"Mr. Harvey McGinnis!" came the gruff tones of Santa Claus; and Harvey +smiled over to his mother as he drew out a pair of stout cloth gloves. + +"Mrs. McGinnis!" And that good lady smiled back, as she shook out a +dainty white apron with a coarse embroidery ruffle. + +"I reckon Santy wanted you to wear that of a Sunday afternoon," said +Harvey, awkwardly. + +"And I'll be proud to do it!" said his mother. + +Little sacks of candy were next produced and everyone settled down to +enjoy it, thinking that the bottom of the big sack must be reached, +when Santa called out in tones that trembled beneath the gruffness, +"Another package for Mr. Harvey McGinnis!" + +"Fer me--why--what--" said Harvey, taking the heavy oblong bundle; +then, as the sparkling "Club House" skates met his view, his face lit +up with a glory that Tom never forgot. The glory lasted but a moment, +then he turned a troubled face toward the bulky old saint. + +"You never ought to a done it," he said. "These must have cost a lot!" + +"Aw, go on," was the reply in a distinctly boyish tone, "don't you +know that Santy can do whatever he wants to?" and, with a prodigious +bow, old Santa was gone. + +A few minutes later, a slender boy with a bundle under his arm, was +skating swiftly down the shining river in the moonlight. As he rounded +the bend, a tall figure in a fur-trimmed coat came skimming slowly +toward him, and a voice called out in Ralph Evans' condescending +tones, "Well, how are the 'Jolly Ramblers' doing tonight?" + +But the answer, this time, was clear and glad and triumphant. "The +best in the world," said Tom, "and isn't this the glorious night for +skating?" + + + + +THE WORKER IN SANDALWOOD[*] + +By Marjorie L. C. Pickthall + + +The good cure of Terminaison says that this tale of Hyacinthe's is all +a dream. But then Madame points triumphantly to the little cabinet of +sandalwood in the corner of her room. It had stood there for many +years now, and the dust has gathered in the fine lines of the little +birds' feathers, and softened the petals of the lilies carved at the +corners. And the wood has taken on a golden gleam like the memory of a +sunset. + +"What of that, my friend?" says Madame, pointing to the cabinet. And +the old cure bows his head. + +"It may be so. God is very good," he says gently. But he is never +quite sure what he may believe. + +On that winter day long ago, Hyacinthe was quite sure of one thing and +that was that the workshop was very cold. There was no fire in it, and +only one little lamp when the early dark drew on. The tools were so +cold they scorched his fingers, and feet were so cold he danced +clumsily in the shavings to warm them. He was a great clumsy boy of +fourteen, dark-faced, dull-eyed, and uncared for. He was clumsy +because it is impossible to be graceful when you are growing very fast +and have not enough to eat. He was dull-eyed because all eyes met his +unlovingly. He was uncared for because no one knew the beauty of his +soul. But his heavy young hands could carve things like birds and +flowers perfectly. On this winter evening he was just wondering if he +might lay aside the tools, and creep home to the cold loft where he +slept, when he heard Pierre L'Oreillard's voice shouting outside. + +"Be quick, be quick, and open the door, thou _imbecile_. It is I, thy +master." + +"_Oui, mon maitre_," said Hyacinthe, and he shambled to the door and +opened it. + +"Slow worm!" cried Pierre, and he cuffed Hyacinthe as he passed in. +Hyacinthe rubbed his head and said nothing. He was used to blows. He +wondered why his master was in the workshop at that time of day +instead of drinking brandy at the Cinq Chateaux. + +Pierre L'Oreillard had a small heavy bundle under his arm, wrapped in +sacking, and then in burlap, and then in fine soft cloths. He laid it +on a pile of shavings, and unfolded it carefully; and a dim sweetness +filled the dark shed and hung heavily in the thin winter sunbeams. + +"It is a piece of wood," said Hyacinthe in slow surprise. He knew that +such wood had never been seen in Terminaison. + +Pierre L'Oreillard rubbed the wood respectfully with his knobby +fingers. + +"It is sandalwood," he explained to Hyacinthe, pride of knowledge +making him quite amiable, "a most precious wood that grows in warm +countries, thou great goblin. Smell it, idiot. It is sweeter than +cedar. It is to make a cabinet for the old Madame at the big house." + +"_Oui, mon maitre_," said the dull Hyacinthe. + +"Thy great hands shall shape and smooth the wood, _nigaud_, and I +will render it beautiful," said Pierre, puffing out his chest. + +"Yes, Master," answered Hyacinthe humbly, "and when is it to be ready +for Madame?" + +"Madame will want it perhaps next week, for that is Christmas. It is +to be finished and ready on the holy festival, great sluggard. Hearest +thou?" and he cuffed Hyacinthe's ears again furiously. + +Hyacinthe knew that the making of the cabinet would fall to him, as +most of the other work did. When Pierre L'Oreillard was gone he +touched the strange sweet wood and at last laid his cheek against it, +while the fragrance caught his breath. "How it is beautiful!" said +Hyacinthe, and for a moment his eyes glowed, and he was happy. Then +the light passed and with bent head he shuffled back to his bench +through a foam of white shavings curling almost to his knees. + +"Madame will want the cabinet for Christmas," repeated Hyacinthe to +himself, and fell to work harder than ever, though it was so cold in +the shed that his breath hung in the air like a little silvery cloud. +There was a tiny window on his right, through which, when it was clear +of frost, one looked on Terminaison; and that was cheerful, and made +him whistle. But to the left, through the chink of the ill-fitting +door, there was nothing to be seen but the forest, and the road dying +under the snow. + +Brandy was good at the Cinq Chateaux and Pierre L'Oreillard gave +Hyacinthe plenty of directions, but no further help with the cabinet. + +"That is to be finished for Madame at the festival, sluggard," said he +every day, cuffing Hyacinthe about the head, "finished, and with a +prettiness about the corners, hearest thou, _ourson_?" + +"Yes, Monsieur," said Hyacinthe in his slow way; "I will try to finish +it. But if I hurry I shall spoil it." + +Pierre's little eyes flickered. "See that it is done, and done +properly. I suffer from a delicacy of the constitution and a little +feebleness of the legs these days, so that I cannot handle the tools +properly. I must leave this work to thee, _gacheur_. And stand up and +touch a hand to thy cap when I speak to thee, slow-worm." + +"Yes, monsieur," said Hyacinthe wearily. + +It is hard to do all the work and to be beaten into the bargain. And +fourteen is not very old. Hyacinthe worked on at the cabinet with his +slow and exquisite skill. But on Christmas eve he was still at work, +and the cabinet unfinished. + +"The master will beat me," thought Hyacinthe, and he trembled a +little, for Pierre's beatings were cruel. "But if I hurry, I shall +spoil the wood, and it is too beautiful to be spoiled." + +But he trembled again when Pierre came into the workshop, and he stood +up and touched his cap. + +"Is the cabinet finished, _imbecile_?" asked Pierre. And Hyacinthe +answered in a low voice, "No, it is not finished yet, monsieur." + +"Then work on it all night, and show it to me completed in the +morning, or thy bones shall mourn thine idleness," said Pierre, with a +wicked look in his little eyes. And he shut Hyacinthe into the shed +with a smoky lamp, his tools, and the sandalwood cabinet. + +It was nothing unusual. He had been often left before to finish a +piece of work overnight while Pierre went off to his brandies. But +this was Christmas eve, and he was very tired. Even the scent of the +sandalwood could not make him fancy he was warm. The world seemed to +be a black place, full of suffering and despair. + +"In all the world, I have no friend," said Hyacinthe, staring at the +flame of the lamp. "In all the world, there is no one to care whether +I live or die. In all the world, no place, no heart, no love. O kind +God, is there a place, a love for me in another world?" + +I hope you feel very sorry for Hyacinthe, lonely, and cold, and shut +up in the workshop on the eve of Christmas. He was but an overgrown, +unhappy child. And I think with old Madame that for unhappy children, +at this season, no help seems too divine for faith. + +"There is no one to care for me," said Hyacinthe. And he even looked +at the chisel in his hand, thinking that by a touch of that he might +lose it all, and be at peace, somewhere, not far from God. Only it was +forbidden. Then came the tears, and great sobs that shook him, so that +he scarcely heard the gentle rattling of the latch. + +He stumbled to the door, opening it on the still woods and the frosty +stars. And a lad who stood outside in the snow said, "I see you are +working late, comrade. May I come in?" + +Hyacinthe brushed his ragged sleeve across his eyes and nodded "Yes." +Those little villages strung along the great river see strange +wayfarers at times. And Hyacinthe said to himself that surely here was +such a one. Blinking into the stranger's eyes, he lost for a flash the +first impression of youth, and received one of incredible age or +sadness. But the wanderer's eyes were only quiet, very quiet, like +the little pools in the wood where the wild does went to drink. As he +turned within the door, smiling at Hyacinthe and shaking some snow +from his cap, he did not seem to be more than sixteen or so. + +"It is very cold outside," he said. "There is a big oak tree on the +edge of the fields that had split in the frost and frightened all the +little squirrels asleep there. Next year it will make an even better +home for them. And see what I found close by!" He opened his fingers +and showed Hyacinthe a little sparrow lying unruffled in the palm. + +"_Pauvrette!_" said the dull Hyacinthe. "_Pauvrette!_ Is it then +dead?" He touched it with a gentle forefinger. + +"No," answered the strange boy, "it is not dead. We will put it here +among the shavings, not far from the lamp, and it will be well by the +morning." + +He smiled at Hyacinthe again, and the shambling lad felt dimly as if +the scent of the sandalwood were sweeter, and the lamp-flame clearer. +But the stranger's eyes were only quiet, quiet. + +"Have you come far?" asked Hyacinthe. "It is a bad season for +traveling, and the wolves are out." + +"A long way," said the other. "A long, long way. I heard a child +cry--" + +"There is no child here," put in Hyacinthe. "Monsieur L'Oreillard says +children cost too much money. But if you have come far, you must need +food and fire, and I have neither. At the Cinq Chateaux you will find +both." + +The stranger looked at him again with those quiet eyes, and Hyacinthe +fancied that his face was familiar. "I will stay here," he said; "you +are late at work, and you are unhappy." + +"Why as to that," answered Hyacinthe, rubbing his cheeks and ashamed +of his tears, "most of are sad at one time or another, the good God +knows. Stay here and welcome if it pleases you; and you may take a +share of my bed, though it is no more than a pile of balsam boughs and +an old blanket in the loft. But I must work at this cabinet, for the +drawers must be finished and the handles put on and the corners +carved, all by the holy morning; or my wages will be paid with a +stick." + +"You have a hard master," put in the other, "if he would pay you with +blows upon the feast of Noel." + +"He is hard enough," said Hyacinthe, "but once he gave me a dinner of +sausages and white wine; and once, in the summer, melons. If my eyes +will stay open, I will finish this by morning. Stay with me an hour or +so, comrade, and talk to me of your travels, so that the time may pass +more quickly." + +And while Hyacinthe worked, he told,--of sunshine and dust, of the +shadow of vine-leaves on the flat white walls of a house; of rosy +doves on the roof; of the flowers that come out in the spring, +anemones crimson and blue, and white cyclamen in the shadow of the +rocks; of the olive, the myrtle, and the almond; until Hyacinthe's +fingers ceased working, and his sleepy eyes blinked wonderingly. + +"See what you have done, comrade," he said at last; "you have told me +of such pretty things that I have done but little work for an hour. +And now the cabinet will never be finished, and I shall be beaten." + +"Let me help you," smiled the other. "I also was bred a carpenter." + +At first Hyacinthe would not, fearing to trust the sweet wood out of +his own hands. But at length he allowed the stranger to fit in one of +the drawers. And so deftly was it done that Hyacinthe pounded his +fists on the bench in admiration. "You have a pretty knack," he cried. +"It seemed as if you did but hold the drawer in your hands a moment, +and hey! it jumped into its place." + +"Let me fit in the other little drawers while you rest awhile," said +the stranger. So Hyacinthe curled up among the shavings, and the other +boy fell to work upon the little cabinet of sandalwood. + +Hyacinthe was very tired. He lay still among the shavings, and thought +of all the boy had told him, of the hillside flowers, the laughing +leaves, the golden bloom of the anise, and the golden sun upon the +roads until he was warm. And all the time the boy with the quiet eyes +was at work upon the cabinet, smoothing, fitting, polishing. + +"You do better work than I," said Hyacinthe once, and the stranger +answered, "I was lovingly taught." And again Hyacinthe said, "It is +growing towards morning. In a little while I will get up and help +you." + +"Lie still and rest," said the other boy. And Hyacinthe lay still. His +thoughts began to slide into dreams, and he woke with a little start, +for there seemed to be music in the shed; though he could not tell +whether it came from the strange boy's lips, or from the shappy tools +as he used them, or from the stars. + +"The stars are much paler," thought Hyacinthe. "Soon it will be +morning, and the corners are not carved yet. I must get up and help +this kind one in a little moment. Only the music and the sweetness +seem to fold me close, so that I may not move." + +Then behind the forest there shone a pale glow of dawn, and in +Terminaison the church bells began to ring. "Day will soon be here," +thought Hyacinthe, "and with day will come Monsieur L'Oreillard and +his stick. I must get up and help for even yet the corners are not +carved." + +But the stranger looked at him, smiling as though he loved him, and +laid his brown finger lightly on the four empty corners of the +cabinet. And Hyacinthe saw the squares of reddish wood ripple and +heave and break, as little clouds when the wind goes through the sky. +And out of them thrust forth the little birds, and after them the +lilies, for a moment living; but even as Hyacinthe looked, settling +back into the sweet reddish-brown wood. Then the stranger smiled +again, laid all the tools in order, and, opening the door, went away +into the woods. + +Hyacinthe crept slowly to the door. The winter sun, half risen, filled +all the frosty air with splendid gold. Far down the road a figure +seemed to move amid the glory, but the splendor was such that +Hyacinthe was blinded. His breath came sharply as the glow beat on the +wretched shed, on the old shavings, on the cabinet with the little +birds and the lilies carved at the corners. + +He was too pure of heart to feel afraid. But "Blessed be the Lord," +whispered Hyacinthe, clasping his slow hands, "for He hath visited and +redeemed His people. But who will believe?" + +Then the sun of Christ's day rose gloriously, and the little sparrow +came from his nest among the shavings and shook his wings to the +light. + +[*] Reprinted by permission of the publishers of "Everyland." + + + + +THE SHEPHERD WHO DIDN'T GO[*] + +By Jay T. Stocking + + +You have all heard of the shepherds who went to Bethlehem, but I do +not believe any of you have heard of the shepherd who didn't go. The +Bible does not say anything about him, but his story has come to me, +and I am going to tell it to you. + +The city of Bethlehem stood on a hill. Below the town, with its steep +narrow streets and white walls, were gray olive orchards. Below the +orchards were gardens bright with flowers. Below the gardens lay green +meadows, and beyond these pasture-lands that stretched away to the +wilderness plains where little patches of grass grew among the bushes +and between the great rocks. There were caves among these rocks where +wolves used to skulk and sometimes robbers hid. So the shepherds who +guarded their flocks in these wild pastures dared not leave them +alone. + +One clear beautiful night, many centuries ago, four shepherds were +watching their flocks on these pastures. Samuel, Ezra, Joel, and +Dahvid were their names. Samuel, Ezra, and Joel were strong men, no +longer young, with shaggy eyebrows and brown beards; Ezra's was short, +Joel's long, and Samuel's streaked with gray. They owned the flocks +which they tended. Dahvid was a boy with ruddy cheeks, bright eyes, +and strong lithe limbs. He cared for the flocks of old Abraham. +Abraham was old and rich, and did not work any more, but hired +Dahvid, whose family was very poor, to care for his sheep. + +The flocks of the four shepherds were lying quiet on the plain far +below the city, and near by Samuel, Ezra, Joel, and Dahvid lay wrapped +in their shepherds' cloaks. + +"Samuel," said Dahvid, rising upon his elbow. + +"What is it, Dahvid?" asked the other in a deep voice. + +"Are you not glad that you tend sheep in Bethlehem instead of some +distant place?" + +"Why, Dahvid?" asked Samuel sleepily. + +"Because it is in Bethlehem that the King we have been looking for so +long is to be born. I have been reading it in the prophets only +today." + +"Have you only just heard of that?" asked Ezra sourly. + +"No," replied the boy hotly. "I have heard my mother tell of it ever +since I can remember, and I have read it over and over again. Samuel!" + +"Yes, Dahvid?" + +"Do you think we shall ever see the promised King?" + +"I do not know, my boy," the older man answered sadly. "We have waited +long, and there seems little hope for Israel now. But he will come +some day, he will come some day. Why do you ask, Dahvid?" + +"I cannot tell. It is often in my mind. Something makes me think of it +tonight. Perhaps it is because I read of him today. Samuel, I would +walk to the end of the earth to see the Christ-child." + +"Well, you need not start now," grumbled Ezra, and Joel added roughly, +"Go to sleep, boy, the hour is late." + +It was much later before Dahvid fell asleep, for his head was full of +dreams, and the stories of wonderful days to come that his mother had +told him. But at length he joined the rest in healthy slumber. + +Suddenly it seemed to each of them that something had passed over him, +and touched him lightly on the cheek. The older men raised themselves +on their elbows, but Dahvid sprang to his feet. At first they saw only +a great light, which nearly blinded them, then they discerned a +shining form in the sky, and heard a voice saying: "Be not afraid; for +behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy which shall be to all +the people; for there is born to you this day in the city of David a +Saviour, who is Christ the Lord. And this is the sign unto you: Ye +shall find a babe wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger." + +And then all the sky was full of light, and the air was full of +heavenly voices, singing, "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth +peace, good will toward men." + +While the shepherds listened, half joyful, half afraid, the light +faded and the voices floated away--"Good will to men--to men--to men," +and all was still as before. For a moment the shepherds looked at each +other in silent awe and wonder. Then Ezra spoke in a voice dry with +fear. "What was it?" + +Dahvid stood speechless, and Samuel answered reverently, "Angels." + +"Brothers," he continued, "a wonderful thing has happened to us. It +has been a long, long day since angels have spoken to men." + +Then he girded his shepherd's cloak about him and seized his staff. +"Come, Ezra, Joel, Dahvid, let us be going." + +"Going--where?" asked Ezra and Joel. + +"Why, to Bethlehem to see the Child. Did not the angel tell us the +sign? Let us go at once to find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes +and lying in a manger." + +"There be many mangers in Bethlehem," objected Ezra. + +"I know not how we shall find him," said Joel. "It is a vain search, I +fear," and he drew his cloak about him and reached for his staff, "but +I will go with you if you say." + +So they started, Samuel, Ezra, and Joel--but Dahvid stood still. + +"Come, Dahvid, make haste!" called Samuel. + +But the boy did not move. + +"I cannot go," he said. + +"Cannot go!" cried Samuel in amazement; and Ezra added, "Who said but +a little while ago that he would go to the end of the earth to see the +King?" + +"And so I would," cried Dahvid; "but the sheep--we cannot leave the +sheep alone." + +"The sheep will be safe enough," said Samuel. "The dogs will keep them +together. There are no wolves tonight. Come, Dahvid." + +But the boy was firm. "There is my master; he'll be angry if I leave +his flocks alone." + +"Old Abraham will never know," said Joel. + +"Abraham is a hard master," said Dahvid. "Many a time I have felt his +heavy staff on my back. But it is not that which keeps me. I have +given him my word that, come day, come night, come life, come death, I +will not fail to keep the flocks. Go on without me; I must keep my +word. Go on." + +So they went on, impatient and eager for this wondrous quest, Ezra +and Joel muttering now and then at the obstinacy of the boy, but +Samuel full of glowing admiration. Dahvid watched them as they moved +up the hill. That dream of finding the Christ-child--how could he give +it up? Once he started forward: "I will go!" But something held him +back, and he threw himself on the ground and kept back tears of bitter +disappointment. After a time he grew calmer, and found a certain +comfort in thinking of the helplessness of his flock. + +Suddenly the low growling of his dog brought him to his feet. But he +saw nothing, heard nothing, and bade the dog be still. In a moment, +with a bark of alarm, the dog was up again and away. Dahvid sprang up, +certain now that danger was near. There was panic in the flock. Toward +the wilderness he could see lean, gray forms, moving stealthily and +swiftly among the sheep. Wolves! Springing upon a rock, and waving his +cloak in circles about his head, he uttered the familiar call which +gathered the sheep about him, his own sheep nearest, and behind them +the flocks of Samuel, Ezra, and Joel. The wolves made off and Dahvid +quickly looked over his flock to see if all were there--for the +Eastern shepherd knows his sheep by name. + +One by one he named them, with an increasing feeling of relief. They +were all there. No! One was missing--Ke-barbara, the pet of the flock. +Ke-barbara means striped, and the little sheep was so called because +of the dark marking of her fleece. After waving his staff over the +huddled beasts, and uttering a few times the soothing cry, "Hoo-o-o, +ta-a-a! hoo-o-o, ta-a-a!" he rushed off in the direction which the +wolves had taken. At the top of the steep bank, at the edge of the +pasture, he stopped and called, "Ke-barbara! Ke-barbara!" and for +answer heard an anguished bleat from the rocks below. + +It was a steep and slippery way, but Dahvid plunged down with no +thought of anything but the sheep. Loose stones gave way and he lost +his footing. At the bottom he picked himself up unhurt, and there +beside him were two wolves quarreling over the wounded sheep. One of +them slunk away at sight of the boy, but the other had a taste of +blood and sprang at Dahvid, missing his throat but sinking his teeth +into his leg. Then Dahvid, as the beast turned to spring again, struck +him a heavy blow on the head with his staff and killed him. His own +wounds were bleeding and painful, but he turned at once with caressing +words to the sheep. + +"Ke-barbara, they have hurt you, little sheep! But they have not +killed you! I reached you just in time. You cannot walk; can you? And +I am afraid I cannot carry you. But I can help. There, put your head +on my arm." He groaned with pain. "No, the other one." So he talked to +her, as to a child, as the wounded boy and the wounded sheep slowly +made their way up the steep hillside and over the rough rocks. It was +not a long way, and, half an hour before, the sturdy shepherd lad +would have bounded over it quickly enough. But now the wounded leg was +slow, the wounded arm was weak, and the wounded lamb seemed very +heavy. It was a weary journey, with many stops. When at last they +reached the flock, still huddled trembling together, Dahvid had only +strength to give one reassuring "Hoo-o-o, ta-a-a," then fell +exhausted. + +How long he lay there he did not know, but the dawn was growing +bright when three men appeared from the direction of the town. It was +not the shepherds, but old Abraham and two of his servants. As the old +man caught sight of his flock, but he saw no shepherd, he raged with +anger. "Dahvid!" he shouted fiercely. "Dahvid!" There was no answer. + +"The young vagabond! He has left the sheep. Of great worth are his +promises! He would keep my flock. 'Come life--come death!' Dahvid! Let +me once find him and I will give him something he will remember longer +than he does his vows." + +As he drew near the flock he discovered the boy lying on the ground. +"Ah, asleep is he? and the sun this high! Come, get up!" he shouted +fiercely, and lifted his staff to strike. But, as he did so he caught +sight of the white face and the bleeding arm, and noticed the wounded +sheep. Old Abraham dropped his angry arm, and there was a touch of +tenderness that was strange to him, as he continued: "Ah, Dahvid, boy! +You did not forget your promises; did you, Dahvid? And I would have +struck you! Forgive me, my lad." Then, turning to his servants, he +gave them command: "Take him to the inn and bid them care for him. I, +myself, will keep the flock today." + +The servants bowed low, "The inn is full, my lord." + +Old Abraham commanded again positively, "Take him to the inn, I say." + +"But the inn is full, my lord," replied the older servant, trembling. + +Then the other servant spoke, "There is perhaps room in the stable, my +lord." + +"Then bear him thither, and bid them give him the best of care. Go at +once." + +So the servants bore Dahvid away, still unconscious from his wounds +and made him comfortable on a bed of straw in the stable of the inn. + +It was some hours before he came to himself. When at last he opened +his eyes, and his ears began to catch once more the sounds about him, +the first thing he heard was a faint cry. + +"What is that?" he asked eagerly of Samuel, who was watching beside +him. + +"That," said the old shepherd, in tones of mingled joy and reverence, +"is the Child the angels told us about, the Child we came to see. We +found him here in the stable, in a manger." + +"And I am not to see him?" + +"Yes, you are," said Samuel, and a grave-faced man brought the Child +and laid Him in Dahvid's arms, the Child for whose coming the people +had been longing for a thousand years. + + * * * * * + +The color at length came back to Dahvid's white cheeks and strength +and health to his limbs and he went back again to the plain. Old +Abraham embraced him, "Forgive me, my son. I have been a hard master. +Thou hast been very faithful, and for thy reward I make thee lord over +all my flocks and half of them shall be thine own." + +So Dahvid became a man of flocks, and all his days he was known among +the other shepherds as the one who had held the Christ-child in his +arms. And there was none among them who was thought so brave, and +gentle, and wise as the _Shepherd Who Didn't Go_. + +[*] Reprinted by permission from "The City that Never Was Reached," by +Jay T. Stocking; published by the Pilgrim Press. + + + + +PAULINA'S CHRISTMAS[*] + +A Story of Russian Life. Adapted from Anna Robinson's + +_Little Paulina_ + + +One day, in Russia, there was a heavy snowstorm. The snow was deep on +the ground; and in the forest the branches of the trees bent under its +weight. + +In this forest a little girl was struggling along. There was no path +for her to follow, for the snow covered all the paths. The little +girl's name was Paulina. She was dressed in a long fur coat, and she +wore a cap and mittens and gaiters of fur, so that she looked more +like a little furry animal than a little girl. She kept tramping +along, not a bit afraid, when suddenly she heard a call for help. + +"Help! Help!" the call came. + +"Coming, coming!" she called back. She went in the direction of the +voice and soon she saw a man making his way toward her. His dress was +that of a peasant. + +"Will you please direct me out of this forest, little one?" he asked. +"You probably know the paths about." + +"No, I am a stranger here," Paulina answered. "I live in Kief--that +is, I did live there; but I am on my way to my father." + +"Where is your father?" asked the man. + +"He is in Siberia. They banished him." + +"But, little one," said the stranger, "that is a terrible place for a +child to go to. That frozen country, where wicked people are sent!" + +"O, yes,--but my father is there, you know," said Paulina. + +"Who is your father?" the man asked. + +The little girl was about to tell him, when she noticed a look of +interest on the stranger's face, so she said, + +"Did you say that you had lost your way in the forest? Do you live far +from here?" + +"Yes, very far. I am lost, and am nearly perishing from hunger and +cold. How far is it to the next village?" + +"They told me it was some miles on," said the child. "But I will take +you back to the woodsman's cottage where I spent the night. The woman +is a kind-hearted person, and I am sure she will give you shelter." + +"That is kind of you, little one," said the stranger, "but you will be +hindering your own journey if you do that." + +"I know that my father would want me to show a kindness, even though +it did put me back some," Paulina said. + +"You must have a good father, to give you such training. Why did the +Emperor send him into exile?" the stranger asked her. + +"O, my father had enemies who lied to the Emperor--and there was no +chance given to my father to explain. So the Emperor sent him away to +Siberia,--and I am trying to find my way there to him." + +While they walked through the forest, the stranger told Paulina about +his own little daughter who was expecting him to spend Christmas with +her. At last they reached the woodsman's hut. The woman greeted them +kindly, and while Paulina went into another room to help her prepare +the evening meal, the stranger was left warming himself by the fire, +and rocking the cradle. + +Once Paulina thought she heard voices, as if the stranger were talking +to someone; but when she went back, she found him alone, still warming +his hands and rocking the cradle with his foot. + +That night the stranger slept on the floor in front of the fire--there +was no other place for him; but he was glad to be safe from the storm +outside. + +Early in the morning, the two started out through the forest again. +They must hurry, if they were to reach the next village before +darkness fell. The storm had passed over, and the day was cold and +clear. A beautiful winter's day. The little girl and the stranger +reached the village on the other side of the forest early in the +afternoon, and there before them they saw a beautiful sleigh drawn by +four horses. There were four servants standing near. + +"What a lovely sleigh!" exclaimed Paulina. + +"Yes, I wonder where they are going. I will ask them," the stranger +said. He went nearer the men and spoke to them. + +"We are driving for our master to Igorhof," they said. + +"Why, that is where my daughter is. If I might only ride with you, I +could spend Christmas with her. Tomorrow is Christmas day, you know. +And, little one, you could spend Christmas with us, too." + +"O, no," said Paulina. "I could not take the time. I must hurry on to +my father. But it would be lovely if we could only ride in this +beautiful sleigh." + +"You could spend the night with us, and then we could set you on your +way, because you have been so kind to me," the man told her. + +The servants were willing to let them ride in the beautiful sleigh, +and soon they were speeding over the snow toward the great city. Once, +the stranger took a scarf from a pocket on the side of the sleigh and +threw it about his neck. Paulina frowned, and promptly placed it back +in the pocket. + +"It isn't right for you to touch anything in the sleigh. It belongs to +someone else. I am beginning to fear that you may not be an honest +man," she said gravely. + +The stranger laughed at her, but he did not take the scarf again. They +sped on over the snow until, as darkness fell, they reached the city. +Soon they entered a large courtyard, and the stranger took Paulina's +hand and led her into a narrow passageway, and up a small winding +stairway. + +"Where are you taking me?" asked Paulina. "I feel almost sure now, +that you are not an honest man. I think that you may even be a thief!" + +The man laughed again. + +"No, I am an honest man. You will believe me when you see my little +daughter. I trusted you in the forest. Now you trust me." + +He led her into a large room, and they sat down upon a sofa. + +"We will wait here until my daughter comes," he said. + +Soon the door opened, and a beautiful little girl, about as large as +Paulina, came toward them. She looked puzzled when she saw the +rough-looking man with the little girl. She went close to the stranger +and looked into his face. + +"It _is_ my father!" she cried, and threw her arms around his neck. + +"But why are you dressed like a peasant? Has there been an accident? +And who is this little stranger?" + +The man took her on his lap and told her how his sleigh had been +overturned in the storm, and how he had found his way to a peasant's +hut, where they had given him dry clothes to put on, and how he had +started out alone to find his way through the forest; and how he was +nearly perishing with cold and hunger when this little girl had +rescued him, and how, if it had not been for her, he would have died +in the snow in the forest. He told her how little Paulina was on her +way to Siberia to find her father, and how they went to the woodsman's +hut where a servant had found him, and how he had planned for the +sleigh to meet them on the other side of the forest. + +"O," Paulina interrupted him, "then there was somebody talking with +you when we were preparing the evening meal?" + +"Yes, and everything came out just as I had planned. And do you know, +little daughter, this Paulina would not let me put my own scarf around +my neck. She thought that I was a thief. She is an honest little girl. +But she will not tell me her name. She does not trust me." + +"But why should I trust you, when you will not tell me who you are, or +anything about yourself?" Paulina asked. + +"Do trust my father, Paulina. I'm sure he can help you. He will tell +you who he is soon, I know," the beautiful little girl said. + +"Yes, little one," the stranger said. "I know someone who could speak +to the Emperor about your father, and perhaps he could be pardoned. +Please tell me your name; and then before you go away I will answer +any questions about myself you may ask me." + +"Do tell my father, Paulina," the little girl urged. + +Paulina threw her arms about the stranger's knees. + +"O, if you could only get the Emperor to pardon him.--But I do not ask +for a _pardon_--he has done nothing to be pardoned for. All that I ask +is that he may have justice done him. My father is Vladimir Betzkoi." + +The stranger frowned, and then he whispered, + +"There must be some mistake. He must be a good man to have such an +honest little daughter." Then he said to Paulina, + +"Do you believe now that I am an honest man, since you have seen my +daughter?" + +"O, yes, indeed I do. You couldn't help being good and honest. She is +so beautiful. I think her face is like what a queen's should be," +Paulina answered eagerly. + +The stranger and his little daughter smiled, and the man said, + +"Well, I believe that your father is an honest man since I have seen +you. And I can tell you now, I _know_ he will be pardoned." + +"Tell her, father, tell the little Paulina who you are," his daughter +whispered. + +"Until your father returns to you, little one, you must stay here and +I will be a father to you--as I am father to all the people of Russia, +for _I am the Emperor!_" + +Just then the bells began ringing, and voices outside began +singing,--for it was the beginning of Christmas morning. And Paulina +said, + +"This is the happiest Christmas morning I have ever known." + +[*] By permission--Copyright, 1912, by Sturgis & Walton Company. + + + + +UNTO US A CHILD IS BORN + +As Told by Phebe A. Curtiss at a "White Gift" Service + + +It was in the little town of Bethlehem, with its white walls and +narrow streets, that a wonderful thing happened many, many years ago. +The whole aspect of the place had been completely transformed, and +instead of the quiet which usually existed there, confusion reigned. +The little town was crowded full of people. All day long men, women +and children had been pouring in companies into it until every +available place was full. It had something to do with the payment of +taxes, and the people had come from far and near in response to the +call of those in authority. + +Many of them were staying with relatives and friends, and every door +had been opened to receive those who came. There were not many places +where the public could go to stay in those days, and the ones that +there were had been already filled. + +Just as the shadows were closing down around the hill, an interesting +little group found its way up the winding path through the orchards, +touched as they were by the sunset coloring, and into the gate of the +city. The man, seemingly about fifty years of age, walked with slow +and measured tread. He had a black beard, lightly sprinkled with gray, +and he carried in his hand a staff, which served him in walking and +also in persuading the donkey he was leading to move a little more +rapidly. + +It was plain to see that the errand he had come on was an important +one, both from the care with which he was dressed and from the anxious +look which now and then spread over his face. + +Upon the donkey's back sat a woman, and your attention would have been +directed to her at once if you could have been there. She was +marvelously beautiful. She was very young--just at that interesting +period between girlhood and womanhood, when the charm is so great. + +Her eyes were large and blue and they were a prominent feature in the +face that was absolutely perfect in contour and coloring. + +She wore an outer robe of a dull woolen stuff which covered the blue +garment worn underneath--the garment which indicated that she was a +virgin. Over her head and around her neck she wore the customary white +veil or "wimple." + +As the donkey jogged along, stopping now and then to nibble at the +bushes on either side, she sat calmly looking out upon the +surroundings. Once in a while she would draw aside her veil and her +beautiful eyes would lift themselves to heaven with a look of rapture +and adoration in them, which was wonderful to see. + +As they drew nearer to the town the look of anxiety upon the face of +the man deepened, for he began to realize more and more the crowded +condition of the place they were approaching. The hurry and bustle and +confusion made themselves felt far beyond the bounds of the town +itself. + +They seemed to be strangers--at least they did not have relatives or +friends to whom they could turn; and the man started at once to make +his way to the inn or "kahn," as it was called in those days. + +This inn was a quadrangular building made of rough stones. It was one +story high, with a flat roof, and it had not a single window. All +around it was a high wall, built of rocks; and the space between that +wall and the building made a safe enclosure for the animals. + +The thing about these inns that would surprise you or me today was the +way in which the business connected with them was run. There was no +charge made for staying there, but safe lodging was freely given. Each +company which came brought its own bedding, its own food and +everything they needed to use in cooking. A resting place and safe +protection were all that were offered. The inn was in charge of one +caretaker. There were no other servants. + +As the traveler, whose name was Joseph, drew near he found to his +dismay that he could not even make his way through the crowd to the +gate keeper, who was guarding the one entrance to the inn. + +He decided to leave Mary, his wife, in the company of a family with +whom he had been talking while he made an effort to gain entrance. + +When at last he reached the man in charge, he found it was just as he +had feared. The inn was full--there was no room for them there. + +In vain he urged; he told of his own line of ancestors; of the noble +line from which his wife descended. The answer was always the same: +"There is no room." + +At last he pleaded for Mary, his wife. He told the man in charge that +she was not strong, that she had come a long, long way and was very +tired; and urged that some place be found for her. He feared the +results if she should be compelled to stay in the open all night. + +So earnestly he pleaded his case that at last the man said, "I have no +room and yet I cannot turn you away; come with me and I will find you +a place in the stable." + +Joseph then found Mary and they and the ones with whom she had been +tarrying went together to the stable and there made themselves +comfortable for the night. + +This was not at all the cross to them that it would seem to you today. +It was a very common thing indeed for people to stay in the stables +when the inn was full. And then, too, you must remember that they were +descended from a long line of shepherds. They naturally loved the +animals and did not feel at all badly to sleep where they had been, or +even in very close company with them. + +We can imagine that it was with very thankful hearts they lay down to +rest that night. + +There was a company of men, asleep in the pasture lands at some little +distance from Bethlehem, on the slope of the hill. They were +shepherds. They had cared for their sheep and after that all but one +of them had lain down to sleep. It was their custom for all of the +number to watch while the others slept. They were wrapped in their +great, warm shepherd's cloaks, for the air was chilly at that season. +All at once a strange thing happened. It began to grow very light, and +the one who was watching could not understand. He spoke to the others +and they sprang to their feet. + +Brighter and brighter shone the light until it was like the day, and +you can imagine that the shepherds were startled. They could not +speak, so great was their astonishment; but as they drew closer +together they heard a voice coming out of the light. The voice said, +"Be not afraid. Behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which +shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day, in the city of +David, a Saviour which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign +unto you; ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes lying in +a manger." + +And then there were with this angel, who spoke, many other angels; and +they sang, praising God, saying, "Glory to God in the highest, and on +earth peace, good will toward men." + +They sang it again and again until the heavens fairly rang with it. + +For a while after the beautiful song had died away and the light had +failed, the shepherds stood with bowed heads. Then each one gathered +his cloak around him and took his staff in his hand and they started +together to find the place and the Child about which they had heard. + +Hastening into Bethlehem they came to the inn and found Joseph and +Mary, and the babe, lying in the manger, just as the angel said they +would. They worshipped the Child and returned to their duties, +praising God and glorifying Him. + +After that Joseph and Mary went away to another place and took the +child Jesus with them, and many others came to worship Him. Among them +were three Wise Men who had come from separate places and all from a +great distance. + +They followed the star which was set in the heavens to guide them and +they too found the One they sought. + +As they came into the place where He was, each one bowed in worship +and they laid before Him the gifts they had brought--gold, +frankincense and myrrh. + +What a wonderful story it is, and how our hearts swell with love as we +think about it! It is fitting that tonight we should dwell upon it, +for we, too, have come to worship our King. It is His birthday and we +have come together to bring Him our gifts. We have brought "white +gifts" because they are the expression of our pure, unselfish love. + +The Wise Men brought gold, and we have brought our gifts of +_substance_--money and food and clothing and things that will help to +make others comfortable and happy. + +The Wise Men brought frankincense, and we bring gifts of _service_; +for each one of us desires to do some one thing all during the year +that will make for good and make us worthy followers of Him. + +The Wise Men brought myrrh, and we bring devotion; for we bring the +gift of _self_. If we have not already given ourselves to the Master, +we want to do so now; and if we have done so, we want to reconsecrate +our lives to Him. + + + + +THE STAR[*] + +By Florence M. Kingsley + + +Once upon a time in a country far away from here, there lived a little +girl named Ruth. Ruth's home was not at all like our houses, for she +lived in a little tower on top of the great stone wall that surrounded +the town of Bethlehem. Ruth's father was the hotel-keeper--the Bible +says the "inn keeper." This inn was not at all like our hotels, +either. There was a great open yard, which was called the courtyard. +All about this yard were little rooms and each traveler who came to +the hotel rented one. The inn stood near the great stone wall of the +city, so that as Ruth stood, one night, looking out of the tower +window, she looked directly into the courtyard. It was truly a strange +sight that met her eyes. So many people were coming to the inn, for +the King had made a law that every man should come back to the city +where his father used to live to be counted and to pay his taxes. Some +of the people came on the backs of camels, with great rolls of bedding +and their dishes for cooking upon the back of the beast. Some of them +came on little donkeys, and on their backs too were the bedding and +the dishes. Some of the people came walking--slowly; they were so +tired. Many miles some of them had come. As Ruth looked down into the +courtyard, she saw the camels being led to their places by their +masters, she heard the snap of the whips, she saw the sparks shoot up +from the fires that were kindled in the courtyard, where each person +was preparing his own supper; she heard the cries of the tired, hungry +little children. + +Presently her mother, who was cooking supper, came over to the window +and said, "Ruthie, thou shalt hide in the house until all those people +are gone. Dost thou understand?" + +"Yes, my mother," said the child, and she left the window to follow +her mother back to the stove, limping painfully, for little Ruth was a +cripple. Her mother stooped suddenly and caught the child in her arms. + +"My poor little lamb. It was a mule's kick, just six years ago, that +hurt your poor back and made you lame." + +"Never mind, my mother. My back does not ache today, and lately when +the light of the strange new star has shone down upon my bed my back +has felt so much stronger and I have felt so happy, as though I could +climb upon the rays of the star and up, up into the sky and above the +stars!" + +Her mother shook her head sadly. "Thou art not likely to climb much, +now or ever, but come, the supper is ready; let us go to find your +father. I wonder what keeps him." + +They found the father standing at the gate of the courtyard, talking +to a man and woman who had just arrived. The man was tall, with a long +beard, and he led by a rope a snow white mule, on which sat the +drooping figure of the woman. As Ruth and her mother came near, they +heard the father say, "But I tell thee that there is no more room in +the inn. Hast thou no friends where thou canst go to spend the night?" +The man shook his head. "No, none," he answered. "I care not for +myself, but my poor wife." Little Ruth pulled at her mother's dress. +"Mother, the oxen sleep out under the stars these warm nights and the +straw in the caves is clean and warm; I have made a bed there for my +little lamb." + +Ruth's mother bowed before the tall man. "Thou didst hear the child. +It is as she says--the straw is clean and warm." The tall man bowed +his head. "We shall be very glad to stay," and he helped the +sweet-faced woman down from the donkey's back and led her away to the +cave stable, while the little Ruth and her mother hurried up the +stairs that they might send a bowl of porridge to the sweet-faced +woman, and a sup of new milk, as well. + + * * * * * + +That night when little Ruth lay down in her bed, the rays of the +beautiful new star shone through the window more brightly than before. +They seemed to soothe the tired aching shoulders. She fell asleep and +dreamed that the beautiful, bright star burst and out of it came +countless angels, who sang in the night: + +"Glory to God in the highest, peace on earth, good will to men." And +then it was morning and her mother was bending over her and saying, +"Awake, awake, little Ruth. Mother has something to tell thee." Then +as the eyes opened slowly--"The angels came in the night, little one, +and left a Baby to lay beside your little white lamb in the manger." + + * * * * * + +That afternoon, Ruth went with her mother to the fountain. The mother +turned aside to talk to the other women of the town about the strange +things heard and seen the night before, but Ruth went on and sat down +by the edge of the fountain. The child, was not frightened, for +strangers came often to the well, but never had she seen men who +looked like the three who now came towards her. The first one, a tall +man with a long white beard, came close to Ruth and said, "Canst tell +us, child, where is born he that is called the King of the Jews?" + +"I know of no king," she answered, "but last night while the star was +shining, the angels brought a baby to lie beside my white lamb in the +manger." The stranger bowed his head. "That must be he. Wilt thou show +us the way to Him, my child?" So Ruth ran and her mother led the three +men to the cave and "when they saw the Child, they rejoiced with +exceeding great joy, and opening their gifts, they presented unto Him +gold, and frankincense and myrrh," with wonderful jewels, so that +Ruth's mother's eyes shone with wonder, but little Ruth saw only the +Baby, which lay asleep on its mother's breast. + +"If only I might hold Him in my arms," she thought, but was afraid to +ask. + + * * * * * + +After a few days, the strangers left Bethlehem, all but the three--the +man, whose name was Joseph, and Mary, his wife, and the Baby. Then, as +of old, little Ruth played about the courtyard and the white lamb +frolicked at her side. Often she dropped to her knees to press the +little woolly white head against her breast, while she murmured: "My +little lamb, my very, very own. I love you, lambie," and then together +they would steal over to the entrance of the cave to peep in at the +Baby, and always she thought, "If I only might touch his hand," but +was afraid to ask. One night as she lay in her bed, she thought to +herself: "Oh, I wish I had a beautiful gift for him, such as the wise +men brought, but I have nothing at all to offer and I love him so +much." Just then the light of the star, which was nightly fading, fell +across the foot of the bed and shone full upon the white lamb which +lay asleep at her feet--and then she thought of something. The next +morning she arose with her face shining with joy. She dressed +carefully and with the white lamb held close to her breast, went +slowly and painfully down the stairway and over to the door of the +cave. "I have come," she said, "to worship Him, and I have brought +Him--my white lamb." The mother smiled at the lame child, then she +lifted the Baby from her breast and placed Him in the arms of the +little maid who knelt at her feet. + + * * * * * + +A few days after, an angel came to the father, Joseph, and told him to +take the Baby and hurry to the land of Egypt, for the wicked King +wanted to do it harm, and so these three--the father, mother and +Baby--went by night to the far country of Egypt. And the star grew +dimmer and dimmer and passed away forever from the skies over +Bethlehem, but little Ruth grew straight and strong and beautiful as +the almond trees in the orchard, and all the people who saw her were +amazed, for Ruth was once a cripple. + +"It was the light of the strange star," her mother said, but little +Ruth knew it was the touch of the blessed Christ-Child, who was once +folded against her heart. + +[*] Used by permission of the author and the publishers, Henry Altemus +Company. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Christmas Stories And Legends, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHRISTMAS STORIES AND LEGENDS *** + +***** This file should be named 17770.txt or 17770.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/7/7/17770/ + +Produced by Stacy Brown Thellend, Barbara Tozier, Bill +Tozier 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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