"I believe," said Minnie aloud, "that I will not sweep under the rug
to-day. After all, it is nothing for dust to be where it can't be
seen." So she hurried to her supper and left the rug unturned.

Before long the dwarfs came home. As the rooms looked just as usual,
nothing was said; and Minnie thought no more of the dust until she
went to bed and the stars peeped through the window.

Then she thought of it, for it seemed to her that she could hear the
stars saying:

"There is the little girl who is so faithful and good"; and Minnie
turned her face to the wall, for a little voice, right in her own
heart, said:

"Dust under the rug! dust under the rug!"

"There is the little girl," cried the stars, "who keeps home as bright
as star-shine."

"Dust under the rug! dust under the rug!" said the little voice in
Minnie's heart.

"We see her! we see her!" called all the stars joyfully.

"Dust under the rug! dust under the rug!" said the little voice in
Minnie's heart, and she could bear it no longer. So she sprang out of
bed, and, taking her broom in her hand, she swept the dust away; and
lo! under the rug lay twelve shining gold-pieces, as round and as
bright as the moon.

"Oh! oh! oh!" cried Minnie, in great surprise; and all the little
dwarfs came running to see what was the matter.

Minnie told them all about it; and when she had ended her story, the
dwarfs gathered lovingly round her and said:

"Dear child, the gold is all for you,
For faithful you have proved and true;
But had you left the rug unturned,
A groat was all you would have earned.
Our love goes with the gold we give,
And oh! forget not while you live,
That in the smallest duty done
Lies wealth of joy for everyone."

Minnie thanked the dwarfs for their kindness to her; and early next
morning she hastened home with her golden treasure, which bought many
things for the dear mother and little sister.

She never saw the dwarfs again; but she never forgot their lesson, to
do her work faithfully; and she always swept under the rug.

_A Night with Santa Claus_

ANNIE R. ANNAN

Not very long ago, and not far from here, lived a little boy named
Robby Morgan. Now I must tell at once how Robby looked, else how will
you know him if you meet him in the street? Blue-eyed was Rob, and
fair-haired, and pug-nosed,--just the sweetest trifle, his mother
said.

Well, the day before Christmas, Rob thought it would be