e weather was fine, and at last he reached up for his
thickest wrap and staff, and away he went up the mountain-side. Nothing
could be seen up that way but the red roof of a convent, and peak after
peak of ice piercing the blue sky.

It was late when he returned and put something carefully behind the
tree. All were waiting for their supper, for they were anxious to go to
bed that the dear Christmas might the sooner come.

His mother scolded a little, but the stranger boy put up his thin hand
reprovingly, as if he could not bear to have Franz rebuked, and then
they all laughed, for they all loved Franz.

But soon they were sleeping quietly, and the moon shone upon happy
faces--only the little guest tossed and murmured "Edelweiss."

The morrow came, and with it many a merry greeting. And now they could
hardly wait for the day to pass. Long before dark the table was set with
its sausages and spice-cake, and beside each plate a mysterious
packet--for the tree bore only glittering trifles. And when the girls in
their pretty scarlet bodices and whitest chemisettes sat down, and the
mother reverently asked God's blessing on their food, all broke into a
joyful carol. Then they examined their gifts, and the little stranger
was given his share of the good things.

But just then Franz arose and brought from behind the tree a curious
looking box. Tearing off the papers a small but hardy plant was
revealed, and putting it in the hands of the invalid, Franz pointed to
its buds and said one word, "Edelweiss."

A cry of joy burst from the boy's lips, and he clasped his treasure as
if it had been indeed a flower from paradise.

"Edelweiss! Edelweiss!" was all he could utter, but the sweet and
grateful tone thanked Franz better than a thousand other words could
have done.

"Why, Franz," they all asked, "where did you get it at this season? It
does not grow in winter."

"No," said Franz, "I know that it does not, but I have often found it in
summer, and I just happened to remember plucking some by the roots last
spring for Father Glueckner up at the convent--he is always gathering
roots and herbs for the sick, and he has a great curiosity to transplant
wild-flowers that he may see what they will produce under cultivation.
See; this plant already has flowers--months too soon. He has several
others, so he gave me this quite willingly."

While they were talking, the little stranger had drawn a small case of
birch-bark from his po