up in the grander preparations for next day. Carol and
Elfrida, her pretty German nurse, had ransacked books, and introduced
so many plans, and plays, and customs and merry-makings from Germany,
and Holland, and England and a dozen other places, that you would
scarcely have known how or where you were keeping Christmas. The dog
and the cat had enjoyed their celebration under Carol's direction.
Each had a tiny table with a lighted candle in the center, and a bit of
Bologna sausage placed very near it, and everybody laughed till the
tears stood in their eyes to see Villikins and Dinah struggle to nibble
the sausages, and at the same time evade the candle flame. Villikins
barked, and sniffed, and howled in impatience, and after many vain
attempts succeeded in dragging off the prize, though he singed his nose
in doing it. Dinah, meanwhile, watched him placidly, her delicate
nostrils quivering with expectation, and, after all excitement had
subsided, walked with dignity to the table, her beautiful gray satin
tail sweeping behind her, and, calmly putting up one velvet paw, drew
the sausage gently down, and walked out of the room without "turning a
hair," so to speak. Elfrida had scattered handfuls of seeds over the
snow in the garden, that the wild birds might have a comfortable
breakfast next morning, and had stuffed bundles of dried grasses in the
fireplaces, so that the reindeer of Santa Claus could refresh
themselves after their long gallops across country. This was really
only done for fun, but it pleased Carol.

And when, after dinner, the whole family had gone to church to see the
Christmas decorations, Carol limped wearily out on her little crutches,
and, with Elfrida's help, placed all the family boots in a row in the
upper hall. That was to keep the dear ones from quarreling all through
the year. There were Papa's stout top boots; Mama's pretty buttoned
shoes next; then Uncle Jack's, Donald's, Paul's and Hugh's; and at the
end of the line her own little white worsted slippers. Last, and
sweetest of all, like the little children in Austria, she put a lighted
candle in her window to guide the dear Christ-child, lest he should
stumble in the dark night as he passed up the deserted street. This
done, she dropped into bed, a rather tired, but very happy Christmas
fairy.

V.

SOME OTHER BIRDS ARE TAUGHT TO FLY.

Before the earliest Ruggles could wake and toot his five-cent tin horn,
Mrs. Ruggles was up