old little
stories to her babies. Friedrich had no dear mother, but he had a tall,
strong brother who would sometimes take him to the sweet wide meadows
and tell him beautiful stories about the strange little bugs and busy
bees, and stones and flowers.

But after awhile Friedrich's father thought he was growing too old to
play all day long. So he said to him one day, "Friedrich, you must begin
to learn." When Friedrich heard this he was glad, because he wanted to
know about all the wonderful things in the world. But when he had to
sit still for long hours and learn out of large books that hadn't a
single picture, it was very hard. "But there is no other way, little
Friedrich," his teachers told him.

As the time went on he grew as tall and strong as his brother. And then
what do you think happened? Just the same thing that happened to our
America when George Washington led out all the brave men. Friedrich's
dear Germany was in great trouble, and she called to all her brave men
to come and save her. And Friedrich marched away with all the
others--marching, marching, with the drums beating and the flags flying.

Then after a long while, when peace had come back and all was quiet and
joyful again, there came to Friedrich a sweet thought that grew and
grew. Can you think what it was? It was half about his old garden and
the playing flowers, and half about little children. Whenever he saw a
child tear a flower or stone a bird he felt sad, and this thought would
grow stronger in his heart.

Sometimes he would gather up all the children and take them to the
meadow, and teach them about the leaves and stones, the flowers and
birds and ants, as his brother used to teach him, and then they would
play the very plays the wind and flowers and birds had played. So he
called it his kindergarten,--his child-garden,--and he began to show to
the whole world that little children must learn and grow in the same
sweet way that flowers do.

And he worked years and years, teaching and working out this wonderful
message that had come to him. He loved God and children and this shining
thought better than himself, and he wore poor clothes and gave up
things, that the beautiful deed might live in the world.

The true light, which lighteth every man that cometh
into the world.
--_St. John._

[Illustration: _By Antonio Allegri da Correggio_

THE HOLY NIGHT]

THE HOLY NIGHT.

In the far-off places of the world wher