r that he could not do too much for--a
mother that has done and suffered every thing for him. In some such
cases, when resources are ample, a costly gift seems to have a graceful
appropriateness; but I cannot approve of it if it exhausts all the means
of doing for the poor; it is better, then, to give a simple offering,
and to do something for those who really need it."

Eleanor looked thoughtful; her aunt laid down her knitting, and said, in
a tone of gentle seriousness, "Whose birth does Christmas commemorate,
Ella?"

"Our Savior's, certainly, aunt."

"Yes," said her aunt. "And when and how was he born? In a stable! laid
in a manger; thus born, that in all ages he might be known as the
brother and friend of the poor. And surely, it seems but appropriate to
commemorate his birthday by an especial remembrance of the lowly, the
poor, the outcast, and distressed; and if Christ should come back to our
city on a Christmas day, where should we think it most appropriate to
his character to find him? Would he be carrying splendid gifts to
splendid dwellings, or would he be gliding about in the cheerless haunts
of the desolate, the poor, the forsaken, and the sorrowful?"

And here the conversation ended.

* * * * *

"What sort of Christmas presents is Ella buying?" said Cousin Tom, as
the waiter handed in a portentous-looking package, which had been just
rung in at the door.

"Let's open it," said saucy Will. "Upon my word, two great gray blanket
shawls! These must be for you and me, Tom! And what's this? A great bolt
of cotton flannel and gray yarn stockings!"

The door bell rang again, and the waiter brought in another bulky
parcel, and deposited it on the marble-topped centre table.

"What's here?" said Will, cutting the cord. "Whew! a perfect nest of
packages! oolong tea! oranges! grapes! white sugar! Bless me, Ella must
be going to housekeeping!"

"Or going crazy!" said Tom; "and on my word," said he, looking out of
the window, "there's a drayman ringing at our door, with a stove, with a
teakettle set in the top of it!"

"Ella's cook stove, of course," said Will; and just at this moment the
young lady entered, with her purse hanging gracefully over her hand.

"Now, boys, you are too bad!" she exclaimed, as each of the mischievous
youngsters were gravely marching up and down, attired in a gray shawl.

"Didn't you get them for us? We thought you did," said both.

"Ella, I want