o that he need not
hurt himself trying to fly with it. Then she showed Gretchen how to
make a nice warm nest for the little stranger, close beside the fire
and when their breakfast was ready, she let Gretchen feed the little
bird with a few moist crumbs.

Later in the day Gretchen carried the fresh, green boughs to the old
sick man by the mill, and on her way home stopped to enjoy the
Christmas toys of some other children that she knew, never once
wishing they were hers. When she reached home she found that the
little bird had gone to sleep. Soon, however, he opened his eyes and
stretched his head up, saying just as plain as a bird can say:

"Now, my new friends, I want you to give me something more to eat."
Gretchen gladly fed him again, and then, holding him in her lap, she
softly and gently stroked his gray feathers until the little creature
seemed to lose all fear of her. That evening Granny taught her a
Christmas hymn and told her another beautiful Christmas story. Then
Gretchen made up a funny little story to tell the birdie. He winked
his eyes and turned his head from side to side in such a droll fashion
that Gretchen laughed until the tears came.

As Granny and she got ready for bed that night, Gretchen put her arms
softly around Granny's neck, and whispered: "What a beautiful
Christmas we have had today, Granny. Is there anything more lovely in
all the world than Christmas?"

"Nay, child, nay," said Granny, "not to such loving hearts as yours."

[*] Reprinted by permission of the author from her collection,
"Christmastide." Published by the Chicago Kindergarten College.

THE LITTLE SHEPHERD[*]

By Maud Lindsay

The shepherd was sick and the shepherd's wife looked out from her door
with anxious eyes. "Who will carry the sheep to the pasture lands
today?" she said to her little boy Jean.

"I will," cried Jean, "I will. Mother, let me."

Jean and his father and mother lived long ago in a sunny land across
the sea, where flowers bloom, and birds sing, and shepherds feed their
flocks in the green valleys. Every morning, as soon as it was light,
Jean's father was up and away with his sheep. He had never missed a
morning before, and the sheep were bleating in the fold as if to say,
"Don't forget us today."

The sheep were Jean's playfellows. There was nothing he liked better
than to wander with them in the pleasant pastures, and already they
knew his voice and followed at his call.

"Let the la