Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Title Page
 Table of Contents
 Augusta - A tale
 Christmas eve
 The young guest - A tale
 Greengreen - A legend
 Oda's gift - A legend
 Castle hill - A Prussian legen...
 Back Cover
 Back Cover

Title: Holly and mistletoe
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00003226/00001
 Material Information
Title: Holly and mistletoe
Physical Description: 249 p., <6> leaves of plates : col. ill. ; 17 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Koch, Rosalie, 1811-1880
Trauermantel ( Translator )
Crosby, Nichols, and Company ( Publisher )
University Press (Cambridge, Mass.) ( Printer )
Welch, Bigelow & Co ( Electrotyper )
Publisher: Crosby, Nichols and Company
Place of Publication: Boston
Manufacturer: University Press
Publication Date: 1860, c1859
Subject: Children's stories   ( lcsh )
Christian life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Christmas -- Legends -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Children's stories -- 1860   ( lcsh )
Pictorial cloth bindings (Binding) -- 1860   ( rbbin )
Bldn -- 1860
Genre: Children's stories   ( lcsh )
Pictorial cloth bindings (Binding)   ( rbbin )
novel   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: United States -- Massachusetts -- Boston
United States -- Massachusetts -- Cambridge
Statement of Responsibility: tales translated from the German of Rosalie Koch by Trauermantel.
General Note: "Electrotyped and Printed by Welch, Bigelow, & Co."--T.p. verso.
Funding: Brittle Books Program
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00003226
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in the Department of Special Collections and Area Studies, George A. Smathers Libraries, University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved, Board of Trustees of the University of Florida.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002232628
oclc - 21429513
notis - ALH3024
 Related Items
Other version: Alternate version (PALMM)
PALMM Version

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    Front Matter
        Front Matter
    Title Page
        Title Page 1
        Title Page 2
    Table of Contents
        Table of Contents
    Augusta - A tale
        Page 1
        Page 2
        Page 3
        Page 4
        Page 5
        Page 6
        Page 7
        Page 8
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        Page 53
        Page 54
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        Page 57
        Page 58
    Christmas eve
        Page 59
        Page 60
        Page 61
        Page 62
        Page 63
        Page 66
        Page 66a
        Page 67
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        Page 92
        Page 93
        Page 94
        Page 95
        Page 96
    The young guest - A tale
        Page 97
        Page 98
        Page 99
        Page 100
        Page 101
        Page 102
        Page 103
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        Page 156a
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    Greengreen - A legend
        Page 173
        Page 174
        Page 175
        Page 176
        Page 177
        Page 178
        Page 179
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        Page 207
        Page 208
    Oda's gift - A legend
        Page 209
        Page 210
        Page 211
        Page 212
        Page 213
        Page 214
        Page 215
        Page 216
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        Page 226
        Page 226a
        Page 227
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        Page 232
        Page 233
        Page 234
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        Page 236
        Page 237
        Page 238
    Castle hill - A Prussian legend
        Page 239
        Page 240
        Page 240a
        Page 241
        Page 242
        Page 243
        Page 244
        Page 245
        Page 246
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        Page 248
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    Back Cover
        Page 250
    Back Cover
        Page 251
        Page 252
Full Text

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. 239



AMrosN our forefathers on both sides of
the ocean, Holly and Mistletoe have long
been emblematic of the freshness and warmth
to be kept living in the heart by Christian
love, when all nature without lies cold and
dead. Whether, then, in England or Amer-
ica, will you not keep a corner of your
Christmas table for this little wreath of ever-
green, as well as a warm place in your
heart for your friend and cousin ?






A LETTER! A real letter for me, and'
through the post-office Only look, dear
mother, and see what is written on the back:
'To Augusta Fabian, Brookside.' It must
certainly be from grandmother!"
Thus cried a little girl, as, almost breathless
with running, she came bounding into her
mother's room.
And there is a package with it; the man
had some trouble in getting it out of his leather
bag. What in the world can grandmother be
writing to me about ? "
Augusta's hands fairly trembled with delight
as she strove to remove the envelope without
breaking the pretty red seal which held it fast,
for this first letter was to be added to her little


store of treasures, and at the first convenient
opportunity be displayed to her young com-
panions. Such a first letter is a real El Do-
rado to the fancy of a child, and even in after
years we can never look upon the worn and
faded pages without a faint thrill of the same
vague sensation of delight which accompanied
their first reception.
Augusta seemed never weary of reading her
letter, first to herself, then to her mother, he;
father, and her doll; even the servants had to
pause in their work to listen to this wonderful
epistle. The pretty dress and the bright gold-
piece contained in the accompanying package
were quite thrown into the shade when com-
pared with the important document addressed
to Miss Augusta herself.
What then were the contents of the good
grandmother's letter? Nothing except that
she intended in a few days to visit her son who
lived on the bank of the Rhine, whence she
would proceed to the baths at Ems, and in the
latter part of the summer would come to
Brookside, where she would remain until after
Christmas. But as her dear little grandchild's


birthday was near at hand, she would not delay
the pleasure she had in store for her, but send
her at once the present she intended to bestow,
with the express provision that Augusta was
to spend the gold-piece entirely according to
her own fancy and inclination.
The amount of money sent seemed to the
little girl an almost inexhaustible treasure, for
the piece was worth between eleven and twelve
dollars. After pondering awhile she said : "I
will buy me lemon puddings every day, for
after father, mother, and grandmother, I think
I like lemon puddings better than anything
else in the whole world. May I, mamma ? "
They would soon cease to give you pleas-
ure, my little daughter, or they might disagree
with you and make you sick," replied Mrs.
Fabian, smiling; but you may make the trial
if you like."
Augusta said nothing, but shook her head.
After a short pause, she asked, hesitatingly:
" But fresh milk-rolls ? "
To have them fresh, you would be obliged
to send to town, more than three miles, every
day," was the reply.
1 ,


0, I could pay the errand-boy out of my
money," suggested Augusta.
Yes, for a long time," returned the mother;
"but then you would have become so accus-
tomed to them that you would not like the nice
white bread we bake in the house; you must
think of that, you little gourmand."
The child hung her head, and, sighing deeply,
said: It is not so pleasant as I thought it
would be to have a great deal of money, for
one is so troubled to know how to spend it.
There is always something to be considered.
I think I will put the pretty gold-piece into the
little money-safe Uncle Gustavus gave me."
"If you intend to keep it for some certain
purpose, such as to buy new books for the
school children, or to send poor sick Jacob, the
sexton's son, who cuts out such pretty figures
for you, on a little journey for his health, I
have nothing to say; but I should be very sorry
to see you keeping your gold-piece only to
look at, or still worse, to employ as the begin-
ning of a treasure that was to be always in-
creased by continual saving, and enjoyed
merely for its own sake. A child should never
be miserly."


0 mother, you do not think I could ever
grow like old Dame Frauzen, down in the vil-
lage, who gets up in the middle of the night
to count over her money, and wears her dead
husband's old jackets, and all summer long
lives upon root soup and crosses because they
cost her nothing ? "
I have no fear," replied Mrs. Fabian, that
my little daughter will ever stint herself in
eating and drinking for the purpose of saving
money; she is altogether too fond of good
things for that. But can you really think of
no better use for your unexpected riches than
to put them in a money-safe ? Think tie mat-
ter carefully over for a few minutes."
"How long will it be before my birthday
comes ? asked Augusta, after a little consid-
To-day is the thirtieth of March: it will be
four whole weeks."
"I have it! I have it!" cried the child,
jumping up and clapping her hands. I will
have tableaux vivains; you remember, mother,
what pretty ones we saw at the Collector's in
the city; there were two little girls in pink


dresses, with powdered hair, and wreaths of
roses on their heads. Ah, that was beautiful!
And how everything shone with satin and
spangles! Yes, dear mother, I would like to
have just such tableaux ; in my fairy-book
there are some beautiful pictures all made up
of groups of children. I will have a fine gilt
frame, and a flowered carpet to stand on. Our
doctor's Gertrude, Emily the pastor's daughter,
and the schoolmaster's niece Anna, must all
help me. O, we shall have a charming time "
"But I do not think our good pastor will
give his money to be spent in such useless
things as spangles, powder, and paint," replied
Mrs. Fabian. "I think he would rather em-
ploy it in making good soup for the sick, or in
buying a warm cloak for some poor woman.
If Emily is to represent such a little dressed-
up doll, even supposing her parents give their
permission, you will have to provide her dress.
I think Anna will be in the same case, and I
doubt much whether your money will be
enough for all."
"I think it will, mother; it is such a very
great deal. If you will take me to town to-


morrow, we can buy everything that will be
needed, gauze, and satin, and spangles, and
flowers, and- "
But you know, my dear," here interrupted
the mother, "that our horses are busy carry-
ing stone for the new asylum for the sick and
poor that your father is erecting. Would you
like the building to be delayed, even for a single
day, only for the sake of a little amusement ?
Papa wishes the corner-stone to be laid on
your birthday, and I thought the idea gave you
great pleasure."
"Yes, yes," said Augusta, somewhat abashed,
" I will wait until some day when the horses
are obliged to go to town, and then we can go
too and make our purchases."
"Then your father and I are to be enter-
tained on your birthday by seeing three or
four fancifully dressed little children sitting in
a frame and neither moving nor playing about.
Now do you think," continued Mrs. Fabian,
with a mischievous smile, that it will be
worth your while to give yourself so much
trouble and spend so much money only for us
who find no especial enjoyment in that sort of
childish exhibition ? "


0 mamma, you and papa are not to be
the only spectators, but the doctor, and the
pastor, and many other guests must be invited;
and then we will want music, that we may have
a dance afterwards."
"What!" cried the mother in amazement,
"are you going to invite grown-up people to
your entertainment ? Papa has said he did
not wish us to have any company this spring
and summer, because he wants to employ all
the money he can spare on the new building,
and do you think that grown-up persons will
accept an invitation sent only in the name of
our little daughter? "
Augusta looked down in embarrassment,
and finally asked: But I can invite some
children, can I not ? You have always allowed
me to do that, mother. You can have a cake
baked for me, and I will give it all to my
guests; then a little tea will certainly not cost
too much; there are plenty of good things
in the storeroom, and we are not so poor,
mamma "
She suddenly ceased, and her eyes fell before
her mother's mild but serious gaze.


Our kind Heavenly Father," said the latter,
gently, has certainly given us a sufficiency of
this world's goods, but they are only lent us
that we may aid those who are suffering from
want of them. We did not receive them for
our own comfort alone, still less to supply us
with luxuries, and we must one day render
a strict account of them use. This you do
not yet comprehend, my child, although your
parents and your teachers have taught you
enough of your kind Heavenly Father, and of
the gratitude due to him, to know that it is a
greater joy to aid the poor and needy than to
buy dainties or wear fine clothes. However,
little as I care for such spectacles, I will not
for this time prevent your enjoying yourself
according to your own fancy, but I make it a
condition that you must not allow your pro-
jected entertainment to interfere with any of
your duties; that is, you must not neglect your
lessons at school, or be inattentive to our good
pastor during the hour he devotes to your in-
Augusta promised fairly; but it was fortu-
nate that the lessons for the day were already


over when the letter arrived, for her imagina-
tion was now filled with the beautiful pictures
she intended to have represented, and the
fairy-book was again and again consulted to
determine the forms and colors of the various
costumes. She purposed herself first appear-
ing as a fairy, then as little Red Riding-Hood,
and finally as Blanchadine in the story of the
seven dwarfs, at the moment when the wicked
queen, disguised as an apple-woman, gives her
the poisoned fruit. The costume of the fairy
gave her much trouble: it ought to be very
splendid, of pink satin and silver gauze; but
then with so much money she thought she
could buy all that could possibly be required.
Having obtained her mother's permission, she
went, towards evening, to see the village seam-
stress, who must of course be taken into con-
fidence. The day was cold, and showers of
sleet alternated with short intervals of sun-
shine. Even the snow-drops, growing profuse-
ly in the park through which Augusta's way
led, hung their pretty heads as if bewailing
the absence of the warmth which the back-
ward spring still denied them. The little girl


wore a thick cloak, and covered her hands with
the same warm muff as at Christmas. As she
passed an open space across which the wind
blew with especial keenness, she could not help
pitying the carpenters, who, axe in hand, were
busily engaged in hewing out the timbers for
the now asylum. A few steps farther on was
the little house where dwelt the seamstress and
her old invalid mother. As Augusta opened
the door, she experienced a most agreeable
sensation of warmth and comfort; the old
woman stood by the stove cooking broth in
several large pots, while the daughter, Louisa,
sat sewing at the window in the shadow of a
tall rosemary bush. The room was clean and
orderly, blue cups and plates stood ranged
upon the shelves against the wall, where also
hung an old-fashioned clock, ticking loudly
and merrily. In one corner stood a small bed,
covered with a neat brown calico spread. The
carpenters seemed to have heard the hoarse
tones of the clock striking the hour for quit-
ting work, for they put away their tools, and all
came toward the little house. Meantime, the
old woman placed on the table three bowls


nearly filled with slices of brown bread, over
which she then poured the smoking broth.
While laying the spoons beside each dish, she
gave a friendly greeting to the men, who en-
tered one after the other, returning the kind
salutation, and casting longing looks toward
the table. One of them had already taken up
a spoon to help himself, when the old woman,
stepping to the head of the table, folded her
hands and said: -
Whether eating, whether drinking,
On our Lord we should be thinking,
Who each good to man hath given,
Life, health, labor, hope in Heaven."

The poor, hungry workmen paused a mo-
ment in inward thanksgiving, and then began
their simple meal, which they so thoroughly
enjoyed that it was a pleasure to see them eat.
Are all these people your relations," asked
Augusta, who had been looking on in wonder,
"or do you keep a kind of inn for them ? "
Yes and no," replied the seamstress, smil-
ing; "the poor are all brothers and sisters,
and it is God's will that all human beings,
rich and poor, lowly and lofty, should feel


thus toward one another, but otherwise we
scarcely know these men, even by name. You
see, my dear young lady, that, whether one
possesses ever so much or ever so little, one
ought to employ whatever one can spare in the
service of one's fellow-creatures. My mother
has often grieved, that, since father's death, she
has had so little to give away; but when your
noble father sent for the men to hew out the
timber for the asylum, and they began their
work here under our very windows, it dis-
tressed her to the heart to see that the poor
fellows had to labor all day in the cold, with-
out anything warm to eat, or any refreshing
drink, except that in their brandy-flasks. She
said: I can no longer labor, and my hands are
very feeble, but I am still strong enough to
cook a pot of warm broth for those poor men;
they may then, perhaps, leave off their brandy,
which may, in the end, cost them their health
and the happiness of their whole lives.' Moth-
er's own experience on this point has been a
very sad one. Well, she spoke with the men,
and they were, of course, very much pleased
with the offer; they bring us the refuse wood,


which, of right, belongs to them, and with that
mother cooks them, twice a day, a good warm
broth, or sometimes at noon a smoking dish of
potatoes. It is a real pleasure to see how
grateful they feel, and then they hold mother
in such high honor that they will even allow
her to speak a word of warning when she sees
that any of them still go to the tavern, or oth-
erwise waste their wages on foolish things."
"But that will not make her any richer,"
said Augusta.
She has no thought of gain," replied the
seamstress. Mother considers such deeds as
her widow's mite, offered through love to God,
and remembers that he often sends the great-
est blessings upon the most trifling actions.
From time to time, one or another of the
wives of the men living at a distance has come
with tears in her eyes, and thanked mother
that her husband had reformed his life and
given up drinking. Another has rejoiced that
her husband, who had never before thought of
prayer, now went with her every Sunday to
church, and did his best to bring up the chil-
dren in the fear and love of God; and for all


this, she said she had only my mother to
thank. But here I am, my dear young lady,
talking so much to you about this matter,
which I am sure mother would rather not
have mentioned."
Louisa hero broke off. The carpenters were
gayly entertaining each other at their table,
gladly resting after the toil and exposure of
the day in so warm and comfortable a room.
The wind without had lulled, and Augusta
took advantage of the bright, clear twilight
to return to the manor. While listening to
Louisa, she had entirely forgotten the object
of her visit.
I will go back to-morrow," said she to her-
self, adding in thought, "but not at supper-
time, for then Louisa can think of nothing but
her mother and her mother's guests, and when
we talk together we must be quite undis-
In the evening she told her mother all she
had seen and heard at Dame Muntzer's, and
that there were so many strange men in the
room she could not have her talk with the
seamstress. Mrs. Fabian seemed quite de-


lighted with her little daughter's account, and
said she must know the widow better, for she
felt much pleased with this proof of her disin-
terestedness and humanity; indeed, it made
her feel quite ashamed, for, as the wife of the
builder of the asylum, she should herself have
considered the welfare of the poor carpenters
so far away from their homes; but that this
was only another proof of how much real good
could be done with very little money, and that
genuine charity could always find a way to be
useful to others.
That night Augusta lay long awake before
the sand-man came stealing by on his noiseless
soles, dropping the fine grains into her pretty
blue eyes. She had so very much to think
about; the gilt frame for her tableaux, the
suitable costume for the fairy, the many lamps
and candles that would be needed, the music
for the dance, and also whether she could not
persuade the forester's apprentice to represent
the wolf in little Red Riding-Hood; he would
certainly know all about wild beasts, and the
sleigh-robes or her father's fur coat would do
the rest.


It was quite late before she fell asleep, and
then she dreamed of ugly dwarfs and poisoned
apples; indeed, she had just fallen into the
clutches of a horrid monster with sharp teeth
that was going to eat her up in spite of her sil-
ver gauze dress, when she was awakened by
her mother's voice, saying: Come, my little
girl, jump up; it is late, and you will have to
make haste to be ready in time for school! "
"For school! 0 me! "
Augusta suddenly remembered that she had
forgotten to learn her morning task, some vig-
orous lines in praise of charity : -

"If one all knowledge and all wisdom had, -
Could speak with tongues of angels and of men, -
Yet were devoid of faithful, generous love,
Such gifts were useless in the sight of God.
As sounding brass or tinkling cymbal, vain
The man, the Christian, bearing not the fruit
Of love, a hollow rind without a core.
E'en could he prophesy, and had all faith, -
Could mountains move, could heal the deaf, the blind,
Should give his all to feed the needy poor,
And yield his body living to the flames, -
Yet had not charity within his soul,
Still useless would he be in sight of God.
True love is patient, gentle, tender, mild,


And ever ready swiftly to bring aid;
Is never jealous, seeketh not her own;
Is never proud, hates none, but counsels all;
Is never angry, and, whene'er she can,
Turns evil into good, protecting all.
Sweet Charity is grieved when wrong is done,
Rejoicing when the truth and right prevail.
She covereth with a veil her neighbor's faults,
Enduring all things, loving peace and rest;
Envying none, believing still the best,
She hopeth all for sinners and ill-doers.
With brightest innocence herself enrobed,
She waits with patience, breathing no complaint.
When science faileth, human lore is naught,
Love growth ever, filling earth and heaven.
When Faith and Hope have passed away with time,
Love bideth throughout all eternity.
Lord Jesus, thou the Love Incarnate, grant
That I may love my neighbor as myself,
And ever ready stand to help and serve
Whene'er a fellow-mortal needs my aid."

Augusta confessed with shame, that think-
ing over her birthday festival had caused her
for the first time in her life to forget her les-
son, and promised that this should never hap-
pen again. Mrs. Fabian uttered not a word
in reproof, but merely said: "If you have not
yet learned the words of those beautiful lines,
at least embrace their meaning with your


whole heart; love your fellow-creatures, the
poor, the sorrowing, the wretched and forsa-
ken most of all, and forget your own self in
serving and consoling all who need aid or con-
solation. The good seamstress's poor old
mother affords an example of charity and
humanity well-pleasing to God, and which
must surely excite the admiration and emula-
tion of my good little daughter. I remember
a beautiful hymn, which says:--

Truly loving, all ye Christians,
Kindly with your brethren live,
Each one ready for the other
Even life itself to give.
Such the love our Lord has borne us,
Suffering, dying, for our sake,
Each disciple grieves his Master
Will not his example take."

Augusta felt her mother's seriousness very
deeply, and she was also sorry to disappoint
her teacher by not having learned her lesson.
All!" she sighed, "if the letter and the
money had only not come, my heart would be
much lighter than it is now."
Nevertheless, she could scarcely wait until


afternoon again to visit the seamstress, and
soon after dinner ran through the garden, fairy-
book in hand, to show Louisa the pictures she
wished to have represented. The weather was
much milder than on the previous day, and
here and there, under the old trees, appeared
little sprouts of green, seemingly reckless of
the wintry winds that might still be expected.
The sun shone brightly down upon the place
where the carpenters were at work, while the
sounds of the axe and saw echoed loudly
through the forest. As Augusta was passing
the men, who all gave her a polite greeting,
she observed a boy of about ten years old,
sitting on a heap of chips, and busily engaged
in making little cages of pieces of wood and
fine white willow rods. He was gayly whistling
over his work, but did not once look up as
Augusta's red skirt brushed past him; his
shoes were torn, and the short jacket which he
wore was quite rusty and threadbare, but very
clean. Augusta was at once struck with his
likeness to one of the pictures in her fairy-
book, that of little Jack, whom his father
sent into the wood because he had nothing for


him to eat, and who there found a whole
house made of gingerbread. In a moment she
thought: "If we wanted to represent Jack
and Peggy, I could put the boy in the picture
just as he is; he looks very well with his true-
hearted face and curly brown hair, and then
his worn-out clothes seem as if they had only
been put on in sport. I would like to know
who he is."
As soon as she reached the seamstress's
dwelling, she inquired concerning the little
boy, whom she was sure she had not seen the
day before.
He comes from Boberau once a week, Sat-
urday being the only day he has no school,"
said Louisa, in answer to the little girl's ques-
tion. His mother died a long time ago, and
the poor lad comes here to help his father carry
home his tools, and do anything else he can
to aid him."
That is all very good," said Augusta, but
I do not like the kind of work he is doing now.
Why does he make cages to catch the pretty
birds in ? Can't he hear them sing well enough
in the woods and fields ?"


The seamstress opened the window and called
out: Johnny, bring me a handful of chips; I
want to heat an iron."
The boy sprang up and brought her a good
armful, which he threw into the stove, laughing
as he said: There, I wish you would give me
something harder to do."
Plenty of time yet for that," said Louisa,
holding the boy (who was about running off
again to his work) fast by the arm. "Stay here
a moment, you little whirlwind, and tell this
young lady why you make so many bird-cages."
Johnny opened his eyes, now for the first
time aware of the presence of a strange child
in the room.
"Indeed," said he finally, with a comical
sigh, if I only knew how to make something
better, I would be the last to aid in catching
the gay little birds. I love them too dearly
for that; but then I love our schoolmaster
much more."
"But," cried Augusta, does not your
schoolmaster forbid you to catch the poor lit-
tle creatures ? "
"He has not exactly forbidden it," replied


Johnny: but whether he would praise it or
not, I cannot conscientiously say. I do not
catch them myself, and in no case are we per-
mitted to touch bird's-nests; but since I have
grown a little more skilful in the manufacture
of my wares, I make quite a deal of money in
the city."
But what has the schoolmaster to do with
all that ? asked the seamstress.
The boy blushed to the very roots of his
hair.; he looked first upon the floor, then
toward the ceiling, and finally cast a longing
glance out of the little window toward the open
space, evidently showing that he would rather
be outside, seated upon his heap of chips, than
stay within talking and answering questions.
Seeing no escape, he replied: "If any other
person had asked me about my work, he would
have had to wait long enough for an answer;
but, as father says, you and your mother have
been so kind to us that you have a right to ask
from us whatever you will. Besides, you will
not tell it again, I am sure. Well, then, the
money for my cages But indeed I would
rather not tell."


Ah! said Augusta, laughing, I bet you
want it to buy gingerbread and fruit with."
Johnny shook his head, while Louisa came
to his aid. "You surely intend to give your
master, Mr. Feldmann, a pleasant surprise. I .
know how dearly you love him, and he deserves
all you can do for him."
"Yes indeed, that is true! cried the boy,
enthusiastically. "0, I love him so dearly,
and you cannot wonder that I should like to
give him a watch. I know he has long wished
for one. His sister's son, Fred Volke, told me
so, and also that he had twice laid up the
money to buy it with; but the first time, the
great fire broke out at Pohlmuhl, and Mr.
Feldmann gave all his savings to the poor
houseless creatures, and the second time, An-
tony the watchman, who sings so beautifully
in the choir on Sundays, was taken ill, and
our good master sent to the city for a physi-
cian, and paid for all the expensive medicines
he was obliged to have. Now I can rest neither
day nor night until I can buy Mr. Feldmann a
timepiece, not one like that hanging against
the wall, and not one of glass and sand, such


as we use at school, but a real silver watch.
. The Collector's serving-men all have watches,
but I am afraid Wn dear master will have to
do without one all his life, unless I can earn
money enough to buy one for him."
Augusta was a little girl, and little girls are
generally very curious, so she asked: "Have
you saved much already ? A good watch costs
a great deal,--a great many dollars."
Johnny looked astounded. A great many
dollars! said he, slowly; well, when I have
saved the first one, the rest will surely come
some time. Where doves are, doves come,'
says the proverb. Toward the first one I
have -let me see."
The little lad unbuttoned his jacket; he
wore no vest, but round his neck was a piece
of red tape, to which was attached a leather
purse. Johnny counted out four shilling-pieces
and a few pennies, looking at them all the
while as proudly as if they were so many gold
Before Christmas comes, I must surely
have one dollar complete," said he, and next
year I will be so much older and more skilful


that I can make it grow much faster. 0 thou,
my kind Heavenly Father, do thou grant this
pleasure to me, and to my good master!"
Tears rushed to his eyes, and his voice trem-
bled as he uttered these last words. Passing
the back of his hand across his face, he thrust
the purse again under his jacket, and ran out
as if the ground were burning under his feet.
"Is not Johnny a dear, good lad ?" asked
the seamstress of Augusta, who had gone to
the window to look after him. "He has the
most grateful heart in the world."
"But why is he so especially fond of his
master? His father is much poorer than Mr.
Feldmann; why does he not give him the
money for the cages?" asked Augusta.
"All, that is a long story," replied Louisa.
"Let us now see about your costumes. Have
you brought the pictures ? "
"But tell me all about it," begged the
child; "it will be four long weeks before my
birthday comes. I would like to know some-
thing more about the good boy who looks so
like Jack in my fairy-book, and whose name
is also John. I have just a half-hour to spare,


And then I mast go, and study my lessons for
You see," began the seamstress, "the
Sboy's mother died a -long time ago, and the
father going off every day to his work, often in
a distant village, the child was left to the care
of an old deaf woman that lived in the same
house with the carpenter. She gave herself
but little trouble about the boy, merely dress-
ing him in the morning and giving him a bit
of bread or a couple of dry potatoes in sour
milk. Johnny sat the whole day long on a
sand-heap outside the door, while the old wo-
man span within; she could not hear the cry-
ing or the child when the poor little fellow
would be alarmed, sometimes by a big dog
passing on the wayside, or by a goose wad-
dling along with her unfledged young behind
her, and stretching out her neck at him with
an angry hiss. She did not see when a sud-
den rain fell and drenched the little boy to the
skin; every noon when she had given the
child his dinner, good or bad, as the case might
be, she sat him down again in the sand, say-
ing: 'Stay here, Johnny, and wait till your


father comes.' The poor little fellow had
often to wait long enough, and frequently be-
fore the father returned, late in the evening
from his work, the little eyes were closed in
sleep. The carpenter would then lift his child
from the ground and place him in his own bed,
but early the next morning would again be
forced to leave him before he awoke. Only on
Sunday could the little one sit on his father's
knee, while the latter caressed him, combed
his hair, and told him all he knew himself
about God and Heaven (where his mother had
gone), about the animals that lived in the
woods and fields, and the great, great world
that existed beyond the little village where
they lived, containing many, many men, and
seas, and mountains. Johnny was inexpressi-
bly delighted with all such narrations; he
never asked for the white roll that his father
usually brought him, but always wanted to be
told some more. Sunday was a real holiday
for the little boy, and every evening he would
ask the old deaf woman: Will to-morrow be
Sunday?' But she heard nothing, only gazed
fixedly at the spindle that was merrily dancing
through her fingers, and spoke not a word.


As there was no one to talk to the child,
except the father, on Sundays, he was very
silent, and could say but few words. Stupid
Johnny' was the nickname bestowed upon
him by the village children, as they passed
the cottage on their way to school, and always
saw him sitting quietly, making sand-houses
and digging miniature ditches. He thus at-
tained the age of five. It is true he no longer
sat all day upon the sand before the cottage-
door, but played by the brook and beat the
hoop like other boys, still, however, continuing
shy and silent, and always when the older chil-
dren were passing to and from school, hiding
himself in the alder-grove behind the house.
"One day there came to Boberau a new
teacher, a young man whose heart was filled
rith love for his noble calling, for the children
he was to instruct, and for all mankind. He
was poor, for in addition to his aged parents
who always lived with him, he supported an
invalid, widowed sister and her only son. No
one could be long in discovering that Mr. Feld-
mann was a real friend to children, for he
never failed to procure them a pleasure when

* 4


it was in his power, and even their lessons
were made a delight to them. When new
scholars entered the school, they found the
room all hung with garlands, and master and
pupils in their Sunday clothes. At such times
Mr. Feldmann made them the most beautiful
and improving narrations, and all regarded
the day as a high festival. During the sum-
mer he employed the free afternoons in taking
long walks with the children, pointing out to
them the brook running near the village, ex-
plaining the difference between the various
kinds of watercourses, teaching them to know
the right bank from the left, telling them the
names of the flowers, of the birds and insects
that fluttered by the wayside, and repeating to
them short hymns of thanksgiving to God for
all the love and mercy shown in the exceeding
beauty of his creation. One day in particular
he prepared a new and especial pleasure for
them. He led them to a hill where all sorts
of arrangements had been made for their en-
tertainment. A painted board was fastened to
a tree-trunk, serving as a target, at which the
boys were to fire with their bow-guns, while a


pile of hoops lay ready for the girls to trundle.
Mr. Feldmann had also brought with him a
vase, from which the children, seated according
to their places in school, each drew a number.
The prizes were but of small value, consisting
of pencils, pens, colored paper, a few small
books, penknives, etc., but the children were
highly delighted with their gifts, and said that
Ohristmas eve had come at midsummer.
~ Johnny stood by the cottage-door as the
loIg train of children passed on. What would
he not have given to have been among them!
He followed them at a distance through the
village, and, when they reached the hill, hid
himself behind a large rock. He could have
sat for days upon his hard seat, so deeply was
he interested in all he saw and heard: directly
below him was the joyous assemblage, and as
the master drew forth one pretty book after
another to give to the fortunate winners, he
involuntarily stretched out his little hand; but
no one saw the timid child, who was only
thinking whether those books told about the
same wonderful things that his father talked
of on Sundays. Ife did not envy the children


the great basket of ripe cherries that was then
brought forward and distributed among them;
all he desired was only once to hold such a lit-
tle book in his hand and examine it on every
"The evening wind began to blow coolly over
the tops of the hills, and the children, however
unwillingly, were obliged to commence their
homeward march. Johnny slipped unobserved
behind them; he had lost his supper and left
his jacket at the cottage, but he felt neither
hunger nor cold. The boys had decorated
their bow-guns with oak-leaves, and the girls'
heads were crowned with wild-flowers, making
quite a triumphant appearance as they went
singing home. Suddenly Johnny saw lying
in the dust before him one of the pretty little
books. The light was fast fading away, but he
could still distinguish the gay colors in the
binding. With a cry of joy he picked it up,
and carefully examined it; but his next thought
was how sorry the child would be that had lost
it, and he ran as fast as he could after the
gay procession, holding the discovered treasure
high over his head.


See see there comes Stupid Johnny! '
cried one of the boys, laughing ; but the others
reproved him for calling such names, already
showing the good influence the master had
exercised among them. But even had they
all joined the cry, Johnny would not have
heeded them, for although he still feared the
big boys, he felt great confidence in the teacher,
and going up to him, lie said, candidly: I
have found this pretty book, and have brought
it to you.'
Would you not rather have kept it, little
one ?' asked Mr. Feldmann, gently stroking
the boy's head.
"'0 yes!' replied the boy, 'but it is not
"' Well, then, I will give you just such a
one,' said the master, smiling; but can you
read it ?'
No, but I will learn right away,' was the
innocent reply.
Mr. Feldmann lifted the little boy in his
arms and said: That cannot be done in quite
such a hurry; but come into the house with me,
and we will talk a little together.'


Johnny followed the master into his room,
where a bright lamp was burning on the table,
which was covered with a white cloth, and
spread out with milk, bread, and cheese.
The widow, followed by her son, entered the
room, and, giving her brother her hand, said:
'Father and mother bade me tell you good
night for them; they were tired and have gone
to rest.' She then took his hat and cane, and
placed an additional plate on the table for the
little guest that Mr. Feldmann had brought
with him.
Johnny stood as in a dream; the neat room
with its sanded floor, the black writing-table
with its piles of books, and the pretty walls,
against which hung a beautiful picture, Christ
blessing little children,-were all like fairy-land
to the poor child, who had never seen the in-
side of any dwelling but his father's, with its
unplastered walls, wooden benches, and rude
table. He was especially enchanted with the
mild light glimmering through the small
ground-glass shade. Mrs. Volke cut him a
large slice of bread, gave him a piece of cheese,
and poured him out a cupful of milk, mean-


time talking with him so kindly that he forgot
both eating and drinking.
But he felt chiefly attracted toward the mas-
ter, who asked him about his father and mother
(as a stranger in the village lie was, of course,
not aware of the child's being an orphan,) and
then showed him some pretty colored prints
illustrative of Biblical history,-Adam and Eve
in Paradise, Noah's Ark with the rainbow
above it, and David and Jonathan, that beau-
tiful type of manly friendship. The child lis-
tened breathlessly to the master, and while the
mild and gentle accents flowed from the lips of
that friend to children, Johnny's heart opened
as a flower in the warm sunlight. He thought
that his mother in heaven must always feel just
as he then did, and he could hardly bear to
think of going back to the old deaf woman who
never had a kind word for him. Mr. Feldmann
himself took the child home, and there asked
many questions about the father, who was now
absent on a distant piece of work, and would
not return until Sunday.
Until that day came, Johnny sat nearly all
the time silently dreaming under the alders


beside the brook, thinking over and over again
of all the good people had said to him. To-
ward evening he slipped away to the master's
house, and, rising on tip-toe that he might look
within, he saw Mr. Feldmann sitting with his
sister and his aged parents, singing their even-
ing hymn: -

0 Lord, protect me while I rest,
Be my slumbers by thee blest I
My body, soul, and life are thine;
Graciously thine ear incline:
0 list my fervent, humble prayer,
Asking thy protecting care!
Should'st thou another morning grant,
Thou wilt supply each needful want.'

"The child folded his hands and sank upon
his knees under the blooming linden as if he
had been in church. Ah! the happy children,
thought he, the happy children, that can go to
school, and see and hear dear Mr. Feldmann
every day. Johnny felt sure it would be a
long year yet before he would be sent to
school. As he afterwards lay in bed praying
for his father and the old deaf woman, he also
mentioned the name of his new friend, who


soon after proved himself a friend indeed.
The next Sunday after church Mr. Feldmann
came to Johnny's father and proposed that the
lad should stay with him, at least during the
daytime. 'Where five sit at table,' said he,
good-naturedly, there will also be room for
six, and as your boy seems to have so strong a
desire to learn and improve himself, he will
probably in time be a scholar of whom any one
aight be proud.'
- "Tho carpenter was of course very well
pleased with this proposition, and joyfully
thanked,the kind master. But the boy, find-
ing his secret desires so suddenly and unex-
pectedly fulfilled, could not speak a word; he
was fairly dumb with excess of gratitude and
delight. From that day Johnny was in fact
Mr. Feldmann's adopted son; the master not
only taught and fed him, but also clothed him
in the best of his own worn-out garments,
which the widowed sister neatly made over for
the child, until that sister's illness and the old
parents' increasing feebleness placed the mas-
ter in really distressing circumstances.
The boy never slept out of Mr. Feldmann's


house except when his father had work in the
village, and on Sundays, when he spent the
whole day at home. On Saturday afternoons
he generally went to the place where his father
was working, and did all he could to aid him.
Mr. Feldmann became to him the visible repre-
sentative of God's providence on earth, and as
he always knew how to satisfy the little lad's
craving for knowledge, or turn it into some
new direction, Johnny now loves him with
such depth and strength that he would lay
down his life for his benefactor, who is to him
not only a teacher of the word of God, but a
self-sacrificing, cheerful doer of the same.
"I only wish," said the seamstress, in con-
clusion, "that the good lad could really, some
day, be in a position to show Mr. Feldmann his
gratitude. As for the watch, that is only a
foolish, childish fancy of Johnny's, which he
will surely never be able to carry into execu-
"But why not," interrupted Augusta; "is
that indeed so impossible? Suppose I were to
give your little favorite the money, so that he
could buy the watch?"


O, my dear young lady," cried Louisa, in
joyful surprise, "if you only would do so!
But I do not really know whether that would
not spoil the best part of Johnny's pleasure, for
then it would not be he who had gratified his
master's wish, but you."
"I have thought of a way," said Augusta,
who seemed quite enchanted with this new
project; "could I speak with the boy again ?"
, Louisa opened the window and called. John-
ny was not this time as prompt as he had been
before; he loitered on the way, and looked
rather distrustful as he finally entered the
Listen to me," began Augusta; are there
any boys in your village that catch the birds
in the oak-woods belonging to my father ?"
"I think there are," replied Johnny, thought-
fully, "for they are the only woods within
many miles. But if it is not allowed, I will
tell our master, and he will only have to say a
couple of words to the boys, and there will
never be another net or snare set in the for-
"It is not forbidden," said Augusta, but I


love the birds so dearly that I do not like a
single one to be lured away. You might tell
your comrades, from me, that if they will let
the birds alone, I will invite them all to see
me on my birthday, and will do my best to
entertain them."
"Are you really in earnest ? asked John-
ny, laughing. "I can hardly think so! Our
wild school-boys go up to the manor!"
"At least to the lawn behind the manor,"
said Augusta, who scarcely ventured to invite
a company of peasant-boys into her parents'
apartments without having first obtained their
permission. "You must come too, and as I
shall not know what to do with so many wild
boys, the little girls at Boberau must accom-
.pany you; there will be plenty of room for all.
And listen; we must also ask Mr. Feldmann,
for who but he could keep such a number of
children in order ? "
Hurra! That will be delightful!" cried
Johnny, fairly jumping with joy. "Will the
children from Brookside be also there ? "
Of course! But the condition of the invi-
tation is, that no more birds are to be caught


in our woods. And now I must make a bar-
gain with you; you must not make any more
e ages, no matter how skilful you become or
how well you are paid."
But-" stammered Johnny, evidently dis-
"Yes," continued Augusta, very seriously,
"I have set my heart upon that. You will
the means of making a good profit, but
Dn, only think, your pretty cages are only
o er inducement to people to catch the gay
rIlittle larks, finches, and yellowhammers, to
whom God himself gave the green trees and
;beautiful groves as dwelling-places. Well, I
will buy from you all the cages that you might
make in, at least, several years from this time,
only with the difference that you must not
make the cages. Here is your pay now."
Johnny gazed half in affright at the broad
gold-piece which the young lady laid in his
sunburnt hand.
"0 no," he said, shaking his head, "this
would buy our whole house, to say nothing of
a few cages. I know the coin well, and I
know that it is worth more than eleven dol-


"Well, you would surely make that much
in the next three years by your skill and in-
dustry," replied the little girl. "But if it
pleases you better, let our bargain be for the
next ten years. But now I cannot stay any
longer, I have my lessons to learn, and you
know that one does not like to grieve one's
kind teacher by negligence."
Thus saying, Augusta lifted the latch, and
calling out, "We will meet again on the
twenty-fifth of April," ran out of the house,
over the cleared space, to the park gate,
whence she again waved a smiling adieu.
Johnny threw his gold-piece up into the air,
and skilfully catching it again, cried out, while
the bright tears rolled down his cheeks: Now
I will buy Mr. Feldmann the finest watch I can
find in the city; 0, how I wish to-morrow were
Saturday again!"
But the first thing you want will be a new
jacket to go to the party in," said the seam-
stress, smiling.
"I, a new jacket? It is scarcely a year
since Mr. Feldmann had this one made for
me out of one of his old coats," replied John-


ny, almost angrily. "Do you think me a
prince ?"
Louisa gave him a hearty kiss. Go, then,
Sand follow the impulse of your own kind
Heartt" said she, deeply moved, for we read
in the Scripture: 'Withhold not good from
them to whom it is due, when it is in the
power of thine hand to do it.'"

A few days after the interview with Johnny,
Mr. Fabian told his wife that the horses could
be spared during the afternoon, and if she
wished to take a drive with Augusta, she could
do so.
"Well, my child," said the mother, "we can
now attend to your little business in the city.
Get ready as fast as you can; I have only a few
words to say to the dairy-maid, and by the
Time I have finished, the carriage will be
Augusta would willingly have asked her
mother to give up the drive to town, but did
not know how to do so without disclosing her
little secret. Since the day of her second visit
to the seamstress, Mrs. Fabian had said not a


word more about the tableaux, and hence was
not aware that her daughter had made a more
sensible use of her money. As the carriage
came before Augusta had any opportunity of
telling her mother about Johnny and the gold-
piece, they were driving away among the fresh
green fields of spring-wheat ere the child could
unburden her mind of the little mystery that
weighed upon it.
"Mamma," said she, finally, blushing and
laying her hand upon Mrs. Fabian's arm, "had
you not better tell the coachman to turn round
and drive us through the birch wood? I do
not think the road to town is very pretty."
"But you have some purchases to make,"
replied the mother, or have you thought of
something else?"
"Yes, dear mother! cried Augusta, quite
delighted at the opening thus afforded her.
"There will be a great many tableaux to be
seen on my birthday, but only lively and mov-
ing ones, of happy peasant-boys and girls play-
ing on the lawn behind the manor; but
suppose it should snow or rain, where can I
take my guests ? All the school children from


bemrau and Brookside are to come. 0 mam-
'lI am so glad! so glad! "
kWDo you mean, then, to use your money in
rag a grand entertainment to the chil-
S" asked Mrs. Fabian, who was much
pleased with this idea than with that of
tableaux out of the fairy-book.
question caused all the sunshine to
Hfrm the little girl's face. She had
y invited so many guests without
g that she had given her money to
SNothing now remained except to tell
other all that had occurred, and beg her
ce. She found no difficulty in so do-
Sas Mrs. Fabian could not conceal her
t at Augusta's altered resolution. She
dly embraced her daughter, and said: "I
v^ery well content with you, my dear child,
1d I hope your little guests will be the same
Okh me."
As Mrs. Fabian, finding that there was no
Anger any necessity for going to town, ordered
* coachman to turn into the wood, a little
aveller appeared from behind the trees. He
P covered with dust and seemed very tired,


but his face was fairly beaming with joy. Au-
gusta cast a hasty glance toward him, and then,
blushing and smiling, whispered to her mother:
"That is Johnny. I bet he has been to town
to buy the watch!"
And so indeed it was. The lad was not run-
ning in his usual fashion, but walked slowly
along, holding his left hand hidden under his
jacket as if carefully guarding a little bird or
some fragile, breakable article. He gave but a
single glance at the passing vehicle, and then
darted away across a ploughed field, singing so
loudly that he did not hear the call of Au-
gusta, who, having first obtained her mother's
permission, was going to offer him a seat in
the carriage.
"Let him go his own way," said Mrs. Fa-
bian; "it ought not to seem as if you troubled
yourself much about him, but the boy will one
day understand that you only gave him the
gold-piece to procure him the pleasure of
showing his gratitude to his master."
The carriage rolled away under the bare
trees, whose branches began to be tinged with
red and to assume that feathery appearance


announcing the speedy arrival of the leaves.
The lark, that little gray bird that rejoices the
heart of the farmer while busy in his fields,
seemed never weary of singing as it rose ever
higher and higher through the clear and balmy
Ah! if my birthday would only be as fine
1' it is to-day!" cried Augusta, over and over
and, as a few days before, her every
S thought had been devoted to the cos-
for her tableaux, she could now think
thing but the entertainment to be given
the village children. She felt especially
to think that she should see Mr.
eldmann, the good master who had so thor-
~,aghly won the heart of the little boy.
SAs the longed-for day drew nigh, the mother
'and daughter held many consultations togeth-
-fr, and had many preparations to make. Mrs.
TVabian herself wrote to the master at Boberau,
.inviting him, with all his scholars, great and
Small, to visit the manor on Augusta's birth-
'day, and heartily beseeching him not to spoil
Piheir pleasure by a denial.
I- The twenty-fifth finally came. In the morn-



ing the corner-stone of the new asylum was
laid, with the appropriate ceremonies, accom-
panied by prayer and praise; the village chil-
dren, clad in their holiday suits, adorned the
site of the building with branches of pine, and
then went in procession to meet the children
from Boberau, who, with their master at their
head, did not suffer themselves to be long
waited for.
Long tables were set in the great hall of the
manor-house, at which the children all par-
took of a plain but wholesome meal, and then
began the plays in the open air, where a bright-
er, warmer April sun never shone down on a
happier set of children.
When, toward the close of the day, Mr.
Feldmann took out a pretty silver watch, and
gently reminded his scholars that it was time
to think of going home, Augusta's smiling
glance fell upon Johnny, (who, even while
playing, had all day kept quite near his be-
loved master,) and she could not but observe
how proudly the boy looked round upon the
assemblage, as if to say, "Do you all see that
Mr. Feldmann has a watch as well as other
people ? "


Mrs. Fabian had embraced the opportunity
of having a long talk with the master from
Boberau, and the consequence was, that, after
consulting her husband, she wrote to Mr. Feld-
mann, and begged him to give her daughter an
hour's instruction three times in the week, for
which purpose Mr. Fabian's horses were sent
tri-weekly to Boberau. Augusta soon loved
the good master almost as well as Johnny did,
lad one day when speaking of this to her
bther, the latter said: "You see, my child,
what your little self-sacrifice has already done
for you. Every deed of love toward our fel-
low-creatures is a seed sown in the furrow of
time, which, with God's blessing, may yield a

Since the time when that unexpected letter
from the grandmother had thrown Augusta
into such a state of excitement, more than ten
years had passed away. The little girl had
grown into a charming young maiden, the joy
and delight of her parents. She had been for
the last three years at an excellent institution
for education, and was just now returning from


a long pleasure tour taken with her grand-
mother. The road home led through Boberau,
and when the first scattered houses met her
view, she thought at once of Mr. Feldmann,
who had, meantime, received an appointment
as head of a large school elsewhere. She beg-
ged her grandmother to let the coachman
drive past the master's old dwelling, so that
she might once more see the little garden and
arbor where she had often sat with her beloved
teacher, studying natural history; for, having
once obtained her parents' permission to go to
Boberau on foot, she had been so delighted
with all she had seen, so attracted by the
peace and contentment reigning amid such
utter simplicity, even poverty, that the visit
was often repeated, and never without profit
to herself.
The garden was unchanged, except that the
splendid yellow rose, now in full bloom, had
grown somewhat aged, the vine had been blown
off one side of the arbor, and the pretty cedar-
tree, of whose branches Augusta had once de-
lighted to make wreaths for the picture, in the
parlor, of our Lord blessing the children, was


all withered and dried up. The square before
the church seemed to be the scene of some
unusual commotion; strange workmen were
apparently busied upon the church-tower, and
at a little distance stood the old carpenter,
Johnny's father, whom the young girl recog-
nized immediately, although his hair had grown
snow-white since she had last seen him. He
wore no working blouse, and carried no tools,
but was gazing intently at the tower. At a
sign from Augusta the carriage stopped, and
she asked what they were doing to the old
"They are putting a clock in the tower,"
S was the reply, while a smile, at once proud
and happy, passed across the speaker's sun-
burnt face. "Look, there comes the young
master who has executed the work; he is
from Boberau, and though perhaps I should
not mention it-my only son."
Augusta leaned out of the window. There,
in fact, stood Johnny, with his sensible, candid
countenance; but the poor lad had become a
tall man, who had probably forgotten all about
the foolish little girl that insisted upon his



never making any more bird-cages. She an-
swered his polite salutation by a pleasant
smile, and the impatient horses trotted on.
But Augusta was not satisfied with merely
knowing that the little boy had become a tall
man; she wanted to know more about his life
and career, and, embracing the first convenient
opportunity, crossed the park, at that season
in the full beauty of its luxuriant foliage, and
went to the little dwelling where still lived the
seamstress, now quite alone.
The first thing that met her glance as she
crossed the threshold was a beautiful time-
piece, standing on a wooden bracket, in the
very spot whence the old-fashioned clock had
vanished. Its silvery bell was just sounding
ten o'clock as Augusta entered. After the
first greetings were over, she smilingly looked
toward the new clock, and said, "I think I
know who's work that is."
Yes, indeed; Johnny has grown up into a
good man and an excellent clockmaker," said
Louisa, with evident pride and delight; "his
old father leads a happy life, and. Mr. Feld-
mann's sister lives with them to keep house.


Her health is better than it used to be, but she
has grown quieter than ever, since her only son
died of the small-pox. Johnny lets neither of
them want for anything, and the old man may
well be proud of such a son. But, Miss Fa-
bian, next to God, he has to thank you for all
that. Do you remember when you gave him
a gold-piece to buy a watch for Mr. Feldmann?
Well, Providence guided him most singularly.
He went to town to buy the watch, and chanced
upon a most excellent-hearted watchmaker,
who did not rest until he had made all sorts of
inquiries about the lad, and satisfied himself as
to how so young a boy could buy a watch and
have a gold-piece to pay for it with. From
that time he never lost sight of Johnny. He
came occasionally to Boberau to inquire wheth-
er the watch kept good time, and always saw
as much of Johnny as he possibly could. The
lad, on his side, took a great fancy to the skil-
ful artificer.
When Johnny was confirmed, Mr. Wilden-
berg for that was the watchmaker's name -
sent him a bran-new suit of clothes, and then
came himself, to ask if he would not like to
learn his trade.


The offer made the lad very happy; for he
had gone Saturday after Saturday to the city,
and had always watched with pleasure the pro-
ceedings of the master and his assistants, -
himself aiding in cleaning up old wheel-work,
or in doing anything else they would trust him
with. Idleness had never been one of Johnny's
failings. Mr. Wildenberg asked no entrance-
money ; and as he was rich and childless,
promised to provide all necessary clothing.
When the young apprentice became a jour-
neyman, his master sent him to Geneva, or
some such place in Switzerland, where I be-
lieve the best watches are made. And so poor
Johnny became a worthy and skilful artisan,
inheriting all his master's business and knowl-
edge, and much more beside. But he is not
the least proud; he comes once every year to
visit Brookside, and I must always make him
a dish of broth such as my dear mother used
to give the carpenters. As long as the old
clock would go, he took the greatest pains to
keep it in order, for he well knew how my
heart clung to all remembrances of former
times ; but at last even his skill could do


nothing more for it, and one day, when I came
home from church, I found that pretty, neat
little timepiece on the bracket against the
And we often talk about you, Miss Fabian,
when Johnny is here; he knows quite well
now, that all that about the birds was only a
pretext to induce him to take the money with-
out feeling it a mere gift. He often says:
' God bless the young lady; without her com-
passionate sympathy, I should now probably be
nothing but a day-laborer, and able to do little
or nothing for my aged father.' But Johnny
does not care only for his father and the
widow. Whenever the poor need his aid, he is
always ready to help them; and many are the
unfortunate in our own village whom he has
assisted through their troubles."
Augusta stood by the window with stream-
ing eyes, and bent over the tall rosemary bush
- standing there as of old to conceal her
My good Louisa," said she, finally, nei-
ther you nor the skilful young watchmaker are
right in ascribing to me the chief share in the


deed, which, under God's merciful guidance,
has had such wonderful consequences. If even
the least deed done through charity is seed
sown in the furrows of time to bring forth a
thousand-fold, then to your mother must be
given the honor you have so generously be-
stowed upon me. Her widow's mite,' as she
herself called it, excited my emulation; and
without her good thought of giving the poor
laborers something warm to eat, I should never
have known Johnny, and could never have
learned his story from you.
Thou canst to smallest deed of love
The greatest blessing give;
0 therefore, for my brother's good,
Grant, Lord, that I may live I '"





THE Christmas Fair was drawing to a close.
While the large stores of the city were crowded
with persons still having purchases to make,
the keepers of the small booths on the market,
place had already begun to pack away the cakes,
candies, wax-figures, tapers, and endless hosts
of dolls yet remaining unsold. The sun had
set, and the buyers were hastening home to ar-
range the Christmas-tree for their little ones;
here and there a poor mother would be bar-
gaining for a wooden doll or some candy
figures for her child, and obtain them at half
price merely because the ground, in spite of
the freezing cold, burned beneath the feet of
the seller, who was also longing to return to
her humble dwelling, where so many little
preparations and tender cares awaited her.


The organ-grinder went moodily home, be-
cause, amid the universal hurry and confusion,
his music had obtained but slight notice and
slighter remuneration, not even a single street-
boy having been found to run after the organ-
man. The poorest among them had now full
occupation in enjoying the pleasures intended
for the children of the rich. Most minute was
the observation and intense the admiration
bestowed upon the various beautiful objects
exposed for sale. It is doubtful whether their
enjoyment could have been really greater had
they actually been possessed of those attractive
but perishable articles. In all probability, the
brilliant colors and fanciful forms, which had
at first attracted their gaze, would soon have
faded into the ordinary hues and common-
place shapes of every-day life. But, as it was,
these poor children, when at night they had
gone early to bed to keep warm, talked long
over the beautiful picture-books, the tin sol-
diers, the wooden horses, and the cuckoo with
real feathers that cried "Cuckoo!" when its
back was stroked. These wonders afforded
matter for conversation during the whole


winter, and even until the earliest cherry-trees
blossomed. The pretty things were still fresh
in their memories when the actual tin soldiers
that had so enchanted them were disabled in
arm or leg, shorn of their weapons, or lying
decapitated in their broken boxes, when the
S populous farmyard could boast of but a couple
of three-legged lambs or a hornless goat, when
&e cuckoo no longer cried, the hobby-horse
Ul & lost his skin, and the gayly-dressed doll,
i~rh the little gold watch in its belt, looked
adly like poor Cinderilla in the fairy-tale.
The children of the poor still enjoyed the mem-
ory of all these pretty things when the actual
receivers were perhaps surveying with disgust
their unsightly fragments, and wishing for an-
other Christmas to bring them a fresh supply.
In the counting-room of Mr. Hollmer, Coun-
sellor of Commerce, the book-keeper and a
young clerk were working away very busily
and very silently. The noises from the street
did not reach the dark, vaulted room in which
they sat, where the windows were all shut in
by iron bars, and the only prospect was upon
a court-yard, a carriage-house, and a stable.


the pretty chased silver box as if it could have
felt the gentle caress, and then opened the lid
with the pleasant anticipations an habitual
taker of snuff would experience under similar
circumstances; but the box contained only a
neatly folded package of bank-notes, and the
fat angels of the vignettes seemed to have
blown out their cheeks especially to trumpet
forth Falkner's unhoped-for happiness. At the
first moment, the good old man was quite dis-
appointed, that, instead of the fine "Prince
Regent" usually taken by his employer, he
had only found a parcel of printed paper, but
the next instant he felt his eyes grow dim, and
passed his oil-cloth sleeve across his spectacles
as if to ascertain if they had left their post or
refused to fulfil their office. But the cause of
his momentary blindness lay deeper, for his
eyes were filled with tears springing from grat-
itude and heartfelt emotion. For once in his
life, he was rich enough to give with full
hands a pleasure he had always coveted, but
never before had been able to enjoy, as, al-
though his salary was a liberal one, he had to
provide for a sickly wife and a crippled brother-


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7, .


~gened out of the gloomy count.
Sthe market-place, now nearly
whatever he fancied, wih-
ng restrictions on his gen-
always hitherto tormented
eager that he would have
having taken off his oil-
t, ioth younger clerk, to
,+*,i aware of the

he tf" by a

," -said iw buy
ee. I would so like to go
and sister; this is the last I
aWly see what a pretty one it is!"
Should not have had the heart to dis-
ta questt so urged; he paid double the
die aqted, and walked aray as if he had
ade te most important purchase in the
hole vorld. Some wax tapers and a paper
Sof ugar figures were the next articles
mnght, for they of course were necessary to
4 adornment of the fragrant fir-tree, and
~a if he had no children to enjoy the pretty

*', <'


sight, he thought: "By the aid of so many
lights my good old wife can so much the bet-
ter see to read in her new hymn-book, and
some hungry mouth can surely be found to
devour the sugar hearts, doves, and lambs."
As he walked along, he saw, at the corner
of the street, Otto, the lamplighter, and his
little daughter Mary, who, with her hands
thrust under her kerchief, watched her father
as he filled the lamp with oil. The child had
no mother, and hence scarcely knew how a
Christmas-tree looked. Falkner knew the
lamplighter, whose dwelling was in the same
street as his own, to be a very needy, but a
very worthy man, and rejoiced that he had
met him and his child at the very moment
when he was able to give them a pleasure.
"Will you go home with me and help me
carry my paper parcels?" asked he of the
little girl. "When your father has finished
lighting his lamps, he will come to our house
for you, and help us eat our supper of carp
and potatoes; my good wife is a most excellent
cook, and I am sure you will enjoy her savory


The lamplighter could scarcely believe his
own ears. Looking down at his greasy jacket,
he said: I am not fit to go, but I would like
my little girl to enjoy herself, and our merci-
ful Lord in heaven will bless you, sir, for your
kind thought."
"But why will you not go to the kind old
gentleman's house ?" asked the child, who
saw nothing amiss in her father's oil-stained
jacket and battered hat. "You need only
take off your woollen muffler and wash your
hands at the pump."
The father could not resist his child's plead-
ing look, and nodded a smiling assent.
On his way home, Falkner bought a little
doll, and hid it in the breast-pocket of his over-
coat. A few steps farther on, he gave the
young lady a companion in the shape of a gi-
gantic gingerbread man, whose pointed hat
reached up to the top of his collar. Thus
laden, and carrying under his arm the tree,
whose branches nodded and rustled at every
S step, as if it knew it was destined to bear a
distinguished part in the execution of a bril-
liant idea, Falkner went up three steps into



his pretty little house, and, crossing the nicely
sanded hall, entered a room from which issued
a most inviting and savory smell.
Mother! cried he to his wife, who stood
busily engaged before the stove, see what I
have brought you; all the materials for a most
delightful Christmas eve." So saying, he placed
the little green fir-tree upon a side table, care-
fully removing a great bunch of wax-flowers,
which dated from his wife's girlhood, to make
way for his various packages. "While I ar-
range matters here, do you prepare supper
enough for a couple of guests, this child and
a grown person who will come by and by,"
said he, rubbing his hands with pleasure and
drawing the child nearer the warm stove.
"Husband! said Mrs. Falkner, coming to-
wards him and looking anxiously into his face.
"What is the matter? Are you mad, or have
you been drinking? A Christmas-tree! Have
you become a child again ?"
(' Unless ye become as little children, ye can-
not enter into the kingdom of heaven,' replied
the book-keeper, thus gently striving to avert
the coming storm. But he was not to escape so


easily. His wife looked first at the child, and
then at the table, near which Mr. Falkner
stood adorning the tree with the various ar-
ticles he had brought home with him, col-
ored tapers, sugar lambs with red ribbons
S round their necks, doves with red heads and
tails, storks with red bills, hearts with red
darts inflicting crimson wounds, and rosy
lyres with golden strings. Finally, her eyes
W fel upon the doll as her husband took it from
S one pocket, and then upon the giant ginger-
bread on the opposite side. Her patience gave
way, and she broke forth into angry expostu-
lation. "Have I then done without everything
I wanted, and baked no Christmas cakes, only
that you might squander the money upon such
useless things? And surely not for my sake!
I am past the years when one takes pleasure
in such things; -no, indeed, you did not do
it for me, but for the first little beggar child
S you met in the street. And just now to make
such senseless purchases, when the New Year
is at hand, and the rent and the apothecary's
bill are to be paid. Our wood, too, is nearly
out, and the barber will look for a New-Year's


gift. Where do you expect to get all the
money from, old man, if you spend the little
you have so recklessly? "
"Do not make my head ache, and yourself
out worse than you really are," said Falkner,
soothingly. "I have received an extra supply
of money, and am going to have an extra de-
gree of pleasure. Christmas comes but once
a year."
"Well for us it does, if you are often to
take such fancies!" said the wife, wringing her
hands. "Did ever one see such doings? A
steady, sensible man, who meets with an unex-
pected piece of good luck, thinks first of his
old age, and lays something aside to keep him
when he can no longer work. Who saves, in-
deed, can spend in need!' But you were al-
ways just the same, always content to live on,
thinking only of the present day, and so, I
suppose, you will be to the end of time, let me
say what I may."
A flood of tears here choked her utterance.
The book-keeper laid his hand upon her arm,
and said: Do not spoil my pleasure, mother.
In my gloomy office I but seldom see a ray


of sunlight, and still more seldom a beaming
human countenance. This child has no mother
to dress a Christmas-tree for her, and so, for
once, I will play the part of one to her. Our
Lord and Master loved children very dearly,
and, as it is not often in our power to feed the
Hungry, to visit the sick, or free the captive,
.up at least, in the person of this child, love
who has so loved us; else we can have
Hbare in the joy of this holy and beautiful
stmas festival!"
T" Do you mean to say that I am not a good
SChristian," sobbed the wife, "because I give
Syou good advice, and take care that you do
not make a beggar of yourself? Who does
Smy saving benefit but you; for if these eyes,
from which you are wringing such bitter tears,
were closed in death, what would become of
you? You would be a ruined man, with
nothing in your home but empty tables and
cupboards, perhaps even tormented with un-
paid bills; while now, I attend to everything
so carefully, for your sake saving all I can, for
you who give me so little thanks, and even re-
proach me with that very saving."
7 *


The book-keeper knew from long experience
that any reply would only open the way for a
more copious stream of words, and hence was
silent while he drew from his pocket a strip of
gilt paper to ornament a handful of apples he
had bought on the way home. For this pur-
pose, however, he needed a little white of egg,
and hence was forced to ask his wife for the
key of the cupboard.
An egg! cried she, with a look of amaze-
ment at this new and unprecedented piece of
extravagance, an egg! Do you think I can
afford to buy eggs when they are twenty-four
cents a dozen? Have you suddenly become a
rich merchant, or have you drawn the great
prize in the lottery ? If I were to buy eggs
when I have scarcely enough to pay for pota-
toes, I-I-"
Mrs. Falkner stopped for want of words ade-
quate to the expression of her indignation.
The apples were forced to remain ungilded,
but they did not look the less pretty with their
rosy cheeks among the green branches of the
Christmas-tree. Mary was then asked to assist
in lighting the tapers. How her eyes shone,


ow careful she was not to touch any of
ett sugar figures with her little frozen
Never in all her life had she seen
half so beautiful.
ner in her ill-humor over-salted
potatoes, clattered the knives
t the tongs, and made a terrible
up a couple of chips that had
n the hearth. She did not wish
to speak again, and her husband
y adorning the Christmas-tree as if
strange child had been the only per-
'1"e room.
ly, the tapers were all lighted. Little
clapped her hands and cried aloud with
delight. The neat little room looked bright as
day, and Mrs. Falkner could not avoid turning
her head to see whence the illumination pro-
ceeded. But did she see aright ? Was there
not a handsome hymn-book, bound in black,
lying open under the Christmas-tree, and near
it a pair of nice, warm gloves ? These surely
could not be intended for the child. Her hus-
band held out both his hands toward her, and
said, with a good-natured smile: "Come,


mother, come and see what the Christ-child
has brought for you: A little with love' must
be our motto. Try and see if you can read
better in the new book than in the old!"
Thus saying, he drew the still feebly resist-
ing old woman nearer to the table, and, laying
his hand upon her shoulder, held her fast while
she bent over the book, and her eyes fell upon
the following lines of a Christmas hymn: -

"Thy silken bed and velvet robes
Are straw and swaddling bands alone,
Whereon a king, thou, rich and great,
Dost lie, as 't were thy heavenly throne.
"And thus hast thou been pleased to do,
The blessed truth to show to me,
That worldly honor, wealth, and might
Are nothing worth, compared with thee."

Mrs. Falkner's heart softened when she saw
how unjust she had been; she was ashamed of
her fears concerning the future; for could not
He who had sent his only Son into the world
to save sinners, also in his own good time send
his creatures all they needed ? "Seek first
the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and
all these things shall be added unto you," says


the Scripture; and in another place: "The
Lord loveth a cheerful giver."
But Mrs. Falkner's excessive economy had
prevented her ever availing herself of any op-
.portunity of doing charitable deeds, and hence
ihe had never known the joy of giving. What
it that now struck upon her heart and
'er feel that her husband was quite right
be said: "This beautiful Christmas fes-
ld not pass to you without pleasure
even if we have no children to en-

at memory was it that filled her eyes
tears. Did she think of a fair little head
years before in the silent grave? Sud-
y leaving her husband's side, she opened
door of her neatly kept cupboard and took
a small, warm shawl. Hanging it upon
tree, she smiled as she said: The Christ-
te must have a pretty shawl, and who-
is to take off the sugar-candies must also
the shawl."
great was the joy of the child! Meantime,
door opened and the lamplighter stood,
hand, upon the threshold. The old hat


looked greasier than ever, but it soon slipped
upon the floor, for when Otto saw what had
been done for his child, he folded his hands to-
gether and thanked God, who had made the
Christmas festival a season of rejoicing for both
rich and poor.
Had not the fish been in danger of burning,
and the potatoes of over boiling, the good
housewife would long have remained standing
before the Christmas-tree reading in her new
hymn-book. The words of the various hymns
seemed suddenly to have acquired a new and
deeper significance; could this have been only
because the print was larger ?
The little table was soon set, and drawn up
close to the tree, so that the tapers might cast
as brilliant a light as possible over the social
board. The retiring lamplighter, in spite of
his reluctance, was forced to sit down. Little
Mary peeled his potatoes for him, and the mis-
tress of the house, divining his excellent appe-
tite, set before him a whole mountain of sour-
kraut. Such fish, with such sauce, neither
father nor daughter had ever tasted before.
Mrs. Falkner brought up a bottle of beer from


the cellar and poured out the first glassful for
the lamplighter. They were a happy party.
When supper was over, and the good house-
wife went to remove the dishes from the table,
she found under her plate a roll of bank-notes,
the remainder of the Counsellor's munificent
gift, which her husband had slyly slipped un-
.der her plate. Although deeply grateful, she
mone of that covetous joy she might have
ced a few hours before.

And thus hast Thou been pleased to do,
S The blessed truth to show to me,
S That worldly honor, wealth, and might
. Are nothing worth, compared with Thee."



AN old soldier, with a barrel-organ on his
back, came, grumbling, down into the poor
cellar which was now his only home. His
wife was peeling potatoes, and looked very
happy; for was not this the eve of Christmas,
and had not the wife of the hatter, who lived
on the floor above, given her some lard she
had left from making crullers, and could she
,not, hence, this evening regale her dear ones
with fried potatoes, and was not the little
coffee-pot merrily singing on the stove in
honor of the season, and its own unwonted
contents ?
The husband and wife stood face to face;
he ill-tempered and gloomy, and she with
her kind, contented countenance. Rose,
where is Lizzy ? asked the man, placing the


organ upon a high chest, and throwing off
the leather strap by which he carried it.
Gone to the church, where there is a dis-
tribution to the poor," replied Rose; "but I
expect her home every moment, she will be
in such haste to show her Christmas gifts! I
am right curious to know what she will bring
"Nothing worth speaking of," said the old
soldier, shortly; "a handkerchief, an old pair
of shoes not worth mending, or, at best, a worn-
out dress that in a day or two will be too short
and too narrow. Of such distributions one
may always say-,' Great cry and little wool!' "
But, father, why are you so discontented
to-day? You know that the poor children are
always becoming more numerous, and in these
hard times even the most generous have little
to give."
The old man gloomily shook his head.
"When one sees the people buying eatables
and clothes and playthings for young and
old, one does not think much about the hard
times," said he. I just now met the brewer
Lehmann's servant coming from the express-


office with a curious package, a sort of can-
vas bag, from one side of which hung a pair
of birds' heads, and from the other a couple
of bunches of the prettiest feathers you almost
ever saw. The servant called the creatures
pheasants, and the rich brewer had sent all
the way to Bohemia for them, only to add
another dainty to his Christmas dinner. You
know Lehmann and I were boys together. My
father, the gardener, often gave him, a poor
little barefooted lad, a handful of apples. Well,
what do you think he gave me to-day, when I
played before his door? A penny! Ho, ho,
ho, I say for your rich folks!"
With a bitter laugh, the old soldier flung
himself upon the bench that ran round the
cellar wall, and supplied the place of chairs or
stools to the poor inmates.
"Father," said the wife, handing him his
old house-jacket, that he might save his worn-
out coat as much as possible, and assisting
him to make the exchange without straining his
wounded arm,-" Father, the rich have their
cares and sorrows as well as we; indeed, often
more severe ones than ours. Only think what


learable time Mr. Lehmann has with his
Miter, who is getting a cataract on her eye.
Hd you change with him, husband ? Surely
SLet us leave the rich their dainties;
un only eat until they are satisfied, and
.do the same with our turnips and
Is it not much better they should
money among the people than
d be shut up in strong boxes,
do no good to any one? Our
'both rich and poor, and so it must
: But, hark there is Lizzy. How
Ans down the dark stairway!"
meant after, a little girl of from nine
years old entered the room. She carried
of clothes under her arm, and held
her head a great brown Christmas
a large gingerbread.
er! father!" cried she, quite out of
." O, I have gotten so much, so very
A. warm dress, quite new, and a pair
-soled shoes. Here is some woollen
Sme to knit you each a pair of stock-
d then the cake, -that will last us
holidays are over "


Rose glanced at her husband, as if to say:
"See how unjust you were."
"Did all the children get as much as you ?"
asked the father, merely for the sake of saying
something, and also feeling somewhat ashamed
of his previous ill-humor.
0 no! replied Lizzy. When the pastor
distributed the things, he said that God would
this time lay some especial blessing on the
gifts because they were so much fewer than
usual. The universal scarcity of money was
felt even by the most wealthy, and just at pres-
ent they were called upon to contribute to so
many charities they could not have much to
give to each one. There were families that
had been burnt out, and whole districts that
had been flooded, asking for aid; hospitals
were to be built, and churches finished. There
was no end to the demands for assistance, and
hence the smallest gifts should be received with
gratitude to God and to the givers: and so they
were. I was coming home quite delighted with
my shoes and my gingerbread. As I passed by
the pretty house where that noble-looking lady
lives that once gave father a half-dollar for
playing our national airs under her window,


rved that the shutters were open, and I
d up, hoping to see a Christmas-tree. A
light streamed through the window-
but, as I afterwards found, it all came
the chandelier. The lady, dressed in a
c gown and a snow-white cap, exactly
was on the day when she threw father
piece, stood near the window. I
artesy, and you may think how sur-
VWas when she beckoned to me with
I stood a moment doubtful whether
Could have been meant for me, when
lld-door opened, and an old servant came
and said he had been sent to take me up
his mistress, the General's lady, as he called
SI followed him up stairs to a room with
great many pictures hanging on the walls,
ly portraits of officers in uniform. There
s one among them which especially pleased
ine: it represented quite a young man, with
Cheeks as red as roses. He had a kind of steel
vest upon his breast, and beside him lay a
sword, and a helmet with a nodding plume.
-'That looks just like a hero, as I have heard
J my father describe one,' said I, half aloud.


Yes, and like a hero he fell, fighting for
his king and his country,' said a gentle voice
behind me. I turned, and for the first time
was aware that the strange lady was also in
the room. I was a little startled, but I had
said nothing amiss; and it soon struck me how
very much she resembled the picture of the
young soldier: the eyes and nose were exactly
the same.
"'Well, my dear child,' said she, smiling,
but so mournfully that one felt at once she
must have known some great sorrow, I have
never dressed a Christmas-tree since since
God took away my only child, but every heart
must feel the influence of this holy season;
even the heart of a mother, sorrowing over the
wreck of her earthly happiness, finds consola-
tion in the thought that Christ was born to
take away the horror from death, and to bring
the blessing of immortal happiness to his chil-
dren, whom he will reunite in a better world.
I have but few earthly pleasures left me, but
would like to-day to bestow as much happiness
on others as I possibly can.' So saying, she
gave me this warm dress, this yarn, and this


cake, besides which she put in my hand
'little roll of money for my father and mother,
whom she asked me many questions, and
with folded hands stood near the table and
me while I counted over the money,
piece, and tried in vain to express my
and delight. But I soon became im-
to run home and show all my pretty

Father can come to me once every
and I will always have something for
said the lady, as I kissed her hand and
her farewell. I left the room as if in a
am, and the last thing I remember is, see-
the lady stand before the picture, gazing at
with tears in her eyes. 0, if I could only in
way have consoled that poor lady! The
r(Id servant stood ready to open the hall-door.
r, 'You are the twelfth child my lady has called
i'in to-day, and all have received as much as
Iyou,' said he, with a friendly nod. Ah yes,
she knows how to soothe her own sorrow by
I,doing good to all around her. May God bless
Tnd comfort her!' "
iL "The poor, good lady! said mother Rose,


wiping her eyes with the corner of her necker-
chief. To lose her only child, a son who was
probably the delight of her heart! How hard
that must have been! "
Thus saying, she pressed Lizzy's head to her
bosom, as if to express her joy and gratitude
that the darling of her own heart was still left
to bless and comfort her.
The old soldier had stepped to the window,
and seemed to be looking out upon the bright
stars shining in the cloudless sky. He had
taken off his cap, and his lips were moving in
silent prayer. My God, forgive my murmur-
ing And the poor, rich lady, who suffers from
no want of earthly goods, and yet is so much
more unfortunate than we who are so poor in
all the world calls wealth, -bless her with
thy grace, and grant her thy heavenly con-



THE evening service was over. A crowd of
people streamed out of the village church.
The snow crackled under the hurried foot-
steps with which they hastened to their homes.
A pillar of smoke rose from every chimney,
and lights already shone in many a window.
For a few moments the church windows
gleamed with the bright lamps within, but
they were soon extinguished, and the little
building stood dark and lonely among the
snow-covered graves. The children, who had
each brought a lighted taper to the church to
add to the general illumination, ran home as
fast as they could, for the Christmas-trees
were now to be lighted, and the long-expect-
ed presents to be given.
Mr. Miiller, the schoolmaster, had scarcely


time to take off his overcoat, for his thr~
were hanging round him in a state of f at
excitement, anxiously awaiting the moment
when the bell was to ring, and they were to
storm the sitting-room, which had been shut
up ever since dinner.
Is your old nurse, Anna, here yet? asked
Mr. Miiller, looking round the dimly-lighted
room. "As she has come to live in our vil-
lage, she must not fail to spend her Christmas
eve with us. You did not forget to go for her,
did you, children? "
The boys looked at each other in blank dis-
may; in the anticipation of the coming pleas-
ure, they had, indeed, forgotten her. George,
the eldest, ran off quite ashamed, and, in his
eagerness to atone for his neglect, did not
heed the keen wind that blew the drifting
snow into his face, and reddened his aching
"Dear Anna," cried he, as soon as he
reached the entry of the little cottage, "you
must come up to father's with me, or else
we cannot enjoy our Christmas supper. Come
quick, quick, Mother Anna; we boys are just


das ever; you know us of old; we are
very good at waiting! "
George had, meantime, opened the door of
Sthe old woman's sitting-room, and was amazed
see a small Christmas-tree, all lighted up,
tnudiag on the table. Mother Anna seemed
Heard neither the boy's call nor his
ja.ntrance. George, remembering that
dame was somewhat hard of hearing,
wonder at this, but he was amazed
.her standing before a fir-tree, adorned
'with gilded sugar-plums, and all lighted up
with colored tapers. Under the tree lay sev-
eral broken playthings, a book with a torn cov-
er, and a wooden pencase, from which time
Shad nearly obliterated the ornamental color-
ing. Mother Anna first took up one and then
another object from the table, and looked at
them with swimming eyes. George closed the
door behind him and approached the tree.
The old woman then, for the first time, ob-
served him, and started back an instant at
finding she had had a witness to her strange
"What are you doing, Anna?" asked the


boy, stretching out his hand toward the book
that lay under the Christmas-tree. "Whom
are these intended for?" continued he, point-
ing to a little company of tin soldiers, a head-
less and tailless wooden horse, and a battered
leather ball.
The old woman wiped away her tears, and
said: It is now my chief pleasure at Christ-
mas to bring before me the time when my
Godfrey was a child and still with me. Nearly
fifteen years have passed away since he went
on his travels as a journeyman mason, and
from that day to this I have never heard a sin-
gle word from him. It does me good to go
back to old times. Besides, I had last night
a very strange dream about my dear child.
He stood in this very room, and said to me:
'Mother, when will the Christmas-tree be
ready?' Filled with joy, but with trembling
hands, I dressed the tree, and, having nothing
else belonging to him, I laid his old playthings
and torn catechism on the table. He joyfully
stretched out his hands to me, when I awoke.
And this whole day I have heard, sounding in
my ears, yes, in the very bottom of my heart:


W;, when will the Christmas-tree be

words suddenly reminded the lively
Christmas-tree awaiting him at
il begged the old nurse to go with
where his parents and broth-
g her. But she shook her
1 Let me stay where I am; I
U you may perhaps think, for
of days long past come and
y. When the lights are all
iimll go to bed, for I feel quite
,old in the church. I will come
and see all your pretty things."
d all his entreaties vain. Moth-
Snot to be persuaded, and soon
Sthe tree and the old playthings.
y forced to return home without

old woman was again alone; she
g at Godfrey's name, written in a
'childish hand, on the first page of
Said kissed the faded letters over
n. One light after another went
the room quite filled with the per-

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