teous tints spread over all the woodland. The rose
bush gleamed with scarlet hips; the elder branches hung down with
great heavy bunches of dark berries; the wild chestnuts fell ripe from
their dark husks; and in the depths of the forests the violets bloomed
for the second time.

But the Queen of the Year became more and more silent, and paler and
paler. "It blows cold," she said, "and night brings damp mists. I long
for the land of my childhood."

And she saw the storks fly away, one and all; and she stretched forth
her hands towards them. She looked up at the nests, which stood empty.
In one of them the long-stalked cornflower was growing; in another,
the yellow mustard-seed, as if the nest were only there for its
protection and comfort; and the sparrows were flying up into the
storks' nests.

"Piep! where has the master gone? I suppose he can't bear it when the
wind blows, and that therefore he has left the country. I wish him a
pleasant journey!"

The forest leaves became more and more yellow, leaf fell down upon
leaf, and the stormy winds of autumn howled. The year was far
advanced, and the Queen of the Year reclined upon the fallen yellow
leaves, and looked with mild eyes at the gleaming star, and her
husband stood by her. A gust swept through the leaves; they fell again
in a shower, and the Queen was gone, but a butterfly, the last of the
season, flew through the cold air.

The wet fogs came, an icy wind blew, and the long dark nights drew on
apace. The Ruler of the Year stood there with locks white as snow, but
he knew not it was his hair that gleamed so white--he thought
snow-flakes were falling from the clouds; and soon a thin covering of
snow was spread over the fields.

And then the church bells rang for the Christmas time.

"The bells ring for the new-born," said the Ruler of the Year. "Soon
the new king and queen will be born; and I shall go to rest, as my
wife has done--to rest in the gleaming star."

And in the fresh green fir wood, where the snow lay, stood the Angel
of Christmas, and consecrated the young trees that were to adorn his
feast.

"May there be joy in the room, and under the green boughs," said the
Ruler of the Year. In a few weeks he had become a very old man, white
as snow. "My time for rest draws near, and the young pair of the year
shall now receive my crown and sceptre."

"But the might is still thine," said the Angel of Christmas; "the
might and not the rest. Let the snow