ed the cedar-tree--
The cedar-tree that, tall and straight,
Rose high above the garden gate,
And though the winds were cold and keen,
Wore berries blue and branches green.

A hundred birds or more were there;
Some--from the sunny Southland, where
The fragrant rose was blooming still,
And green grass covered field and hill,
And, free as ever, flowed the rill--
Had come in answer to the call
Of friends who at the North had staid,
By stern old Winter undismayed,
To see the dainty snow-flakes fall.
These kindly greeted, with small head
Held on one side, a sparrow said,
"To choose a gift for Cecily
We've met to-night. What shall it be?"
A flute-like trill, in graceful pride,
A thrush sang sweetly, then replied,
"What better than the gift of song?"
"None better," answered all the throng.

And when next dawn sweet Cecily--
No sweeter child could ever be--
Into the sunlight smiling sprang,
In wondrous notes a hymn she sang.
Exultant on the air it rang,
And waked the echoes all about.
Straightway the morning brighter grew,
The pale sky turned a deeper blue,
The merry Christmas bells pealed out.
And, from that day, whoever hears
The wee maid sing, sheds happy tears
(So potent is her power of song),
Forgetting pain and care and wrong,
Rememb'ring only heaven is nigh,
Where dwells the Christ who came to die
On earth, that we might live alway,
And who was born on Christmas-day.

THE FAIR PERSIAN.

BY JAMES PAYN.

To those young ladies and gentlemen who are acquainted with the _Arabian
Nights_, I foresee that the title of my tale will at once cause to
spring up in their recollection the adventure of Nourhadeen and _his_
fair Persian; that a vision will instantly present itself to their gaze
of singing trees and dancing fountains, of hanging gardens, and groves
of palm, and purses of sequins; and I am sure they will thank me for
having recalled to their minds (though I didn't mean to do it)
remembrances so charming. To other little folks, on the other hand, who
have _not_ read the _Arabian Nights_, my story will have none the less
attraction, since it has no more to do with Nourhadeen than with their
excellent grandmother (if they happen to have one), and the fair Persian
is not a "young person" at all.

How it all happened was thus: It was papa's birthday, you see, and the
children knowing--clever creatures--exactly when