istant green grove where his own little one was sleeping. "Seems to me
I've loved all little ones ever since," he said, thinking far back to the
Christmas week when his lamb was laid to rest. "Well, she shall not
return to me, but I shall go to her." The smile of the Shining One made a
warm glow in his heart, which followed him all the way home.

The children had a merry time dressing the room. They stuck good big
bushes of pine in each window; they put a little ruffle of ground-pine
round mother's Bible, and they fastened the beautiful red cross up over
the table, and they stuck sprigs of pine or holly into every crack that
could be made, by fair means or foul, to accept it, and they were
immensely satisfied and delighted. Tottie insisted on hanging up his
string of many-colored beads in the window to imitate the effect of the
stained glass of the great church window.

"It looks pretty when the light comes through," he remarked; and Elsie
admitted that they might play they were painted windows, with some show
of propriety. When everything had been stuck somewhere, Elsie swept the
floor, and made up a fire, and put on the tea-kettle, to have everything
ready to strike mother favorably on her return.

[Decoration]

SCENE IV.

A freezing, bright, cold afternoon. "Cold as Christmas!" say cheery
voices, as the crowds rush to and fro into shops and stores, and come out
with hands full of presents.

"Yes, cold as Christmas," says John Morley. "I should think so! Cold
enough for a fellow that can't get in anywhere--that nobody wants and
nobody helps! I should think so."

John had been trudging all day from point to point, only to hear the old
story: times were hard, work was dull, nobody wanted him, and he felt
morose and surly--out of humor with himself and with everybody else.

It is true that his misfortunes were from his own fault; but that
consideration never makes a man a particle more patient or good-natured--
indeed, it is an additional bitterness in his cup. John was an
Englishman. When he first landed in New York from the old country, he had
been wild and dissipated and given to drinking. But by his wife's earnest
entreaties he had been persuaded to sign the temperance pledge, and had
gone on prosperously keeping it for a year. He had a good place and good
wages, and all went well with him till in an evil hour he met some of his
former boon-companions, and was induced to have a social evening with
them