alf a century."

[Illustration: "Thank you for the tin soldier, my little friend," said
the old man....]

Under a glass beneath the picture hung a nosegay of withered flowers,
which were, no doubt, half a century old too, at least they appeared so.

And the pendulum of the old clock went to and fro, and the hands turned
round, and as time passed on everything in the room grew older, but no
one seemed to notice it.

"They say at home," said the little boy, "that you are very lonely."

"Oh," replied the old man, "I have pleasant thoughts of all that is past
recalled by memory, and now you too are come to visit me, and that is
very pleasant."

Then he took from the bookcase a book full of pictures representing long
processions of wonderful coaches such as are never seen at the present
time, soldiers like the knave of clubs, and citizens with waving
banners. The tailors had a flag with a pair of scissors supported by two
lions, and on the shoemakers' flag there were not boots but an eagle
with two heads, for the shoemakers must have everything arranged so that
they can say, "This is a pair." What a picture book it was! And then the
old man went into another room to fetch apples and nuts. It was very
pleasant, certainly, to be in that old house.

"I cannot endure it," said the tin soldier, who stood on a shelf; "it is
so lonely and dull here. I have been accustomed to live in a family, and
I cannot get used to this life. I cannot bear it. The whole day is long
enough, but the evening is longer. It is not here as it was in your
house opposite, when your father and mother talked so cheerfully
together, while you and all the dear children made such a delightful
noise. Do you think he gets any kisses? Do you think he ever has
friendly looks or a Christmas tree? He will have nothing now but the
grave. Oh! I cannot bear it."

"You must not look on the sorrowful side so much," said the little boy.
"I think everything in this house is beautiful, and all the old,
pleasant thoughts come back here to pay visits."

"Ah, but I never see any, and I don't know them," said the tin soldier;
"and I cannot bear it."

"You must bear it," said the little boy. Then the old man came back with
a pleasant face, and brought with him beautiful preserved fruits as
well as apples and nuts, and the little boy thought no more of the tin
soldier.

How happy and delighted the little boy was! And after he returned home,
and while days and weeks