ness--he said, in the cheeriest, kindest manner, "Well, small people,
what can I do for you?"

"We would like to tell you a story," answered the boy, in a frank,
pleasant voice.

"Tell me a story!" repeated Mr. Golong, in a tone of great surprise.

"Yes, sir, please--a Christmas story," was the reply.

"Bless my heart! what a queer idea!" said Mr. Golong, and he laughed a
silent laugh that half closed his eyes and wrinkled his nose in the
funniest way.

"Wouldn't you like to hear one?" asked the girl, coaxingly.

"Of course I would--I'm very fond of stories--but I don't see how I can
spare the time. We're so busy just now, and likely to be until night,"
said Mr. Golong.

"It's only a short one," said the boy.

"A very short one," added the girl.

"Well, go ahead," said the good-natured old fellow. And he sat down on a
barrel of potatoes, and his young visitors placed themselves one on each
side of him.

"One Christmas-time," the boy began, "there was a big tenement-house in
this city, and ten families lived in it, and every one of these families
'cept one knew they were a-going to have turkey for their Christmas
dinner. They knew it sure the day before Christmas, all 'cept this one.
The family that wasn't sure the day before Christmas morning lived on
the top floor, and it was--it was--"

"Mrs. Todd, Neal Todd, Hetty Todd, and Puppy Todd," prompted the girl.

"Yes, it was them," said the boy, and went on with his story again:
"Mrs. Todd was Neal's and Hetty's mother--they hadn't any father; he
died three years ago--and Puppy was their dog. Mrs. Todd is one of the
best mothers ever lived, and she sews button-holes on boys' jackets for
a big store; and Hetty cleans up the house, and gets the supper, and
such things; and I--I mean Neal--runs errands for folks when he can get
a chance after school. His mother wants him to go to school till he's
fourteen anyhow, 'cause a boy that has some education can get along
better than a boy that don't know anything. And this family, though they
were very poor, had always managed to have a turkey dinner till the
Christmas I'm telling about, and Mrs. Todd she loved turkey."

"Didn't Hetty and Neal?" asked Mr. Golong, closing his eyes and
wrinkling his nose again; and he hurried away to wait on a stout lady,
all covered with glittering jet ornaments and bugles, who must have been
a very particular customer, she talked so loud and so much.

"Didn't Hetty and Neal?" he repe