he edge,
put a small parcel inside, and hung it on a neat brass nail, which was
driven in a door directly opposite his bed, where it would catch his eye
as soon as he awoke.

You may be sure both the children were up bright and early the next
morning. Helen dressed herself quickly and ran down stairs into the
dining-room to wait for her brother.

George opened his eyes upon the sock the very first thing. He sprang out
of bed and made but two steps to the door, raised his hand eagerly, and
then the generous little fellow stopped.

"No!" he cried aloud, "I will not even squeeze the outside to guess what
it is, till I am with Helen."

[Illustration: GEORGE AND HELEN READING "SOCKS"]

He did not stop to count his toes or fingers, though he did manage to
clean his teeth, wash his face, neck, and hands, and brush his hair
in about five minutes, then taking hold of the precious sock by the loop
at the top, he carried it down stairs very much as if he had hold of a
mouse by the tail. He was met by Helen at the door with an "Oh, George,
what is it?"

They both stared with all their eyes, while George told Helen she might
take the wonderful thing out. She gladly obeyed, and drew out a compact
roll of letter paper neatly tied with sky-blue ribbon. Helen untied the
little bow, her fingers trembling with eagerness, and unrolled the
paper. It seemed to be a great many pages covered with writing, and they
were all fastened together at the top with another bit of blue ribbon.
The fair and clear handwriting was delightful to look at.

"Oh, mamma! Oh papa! do come and look!" cried George. "I do believe this
is a story before it is printed. See! on the top of the page is written
'Colonel Freddy; or, the March and Encampment of the Dashahed Zouaves.'"

"Yes; Aunt Fanny sent it to me yesterday; and her daughter hopes her
little story about soldiers will please you."

"Please us! I guess it will! I'd rather hear about soldiers than anybody
else in the world, even giants! because, you know, mamma, Uncle Charley
has gone to fight, and if the Southerners had only put off the war a few
years longer, I would have gone to fight them too; so Hurrah for the
Dashahed Zouaves!"

"Three cheers for the Dashahed Zouaves!" cried Helen, and they were
given with a will.

The children could hardly eat their breakfast in their eagerness to hear
the story which was sent to them before it was printed. This latter fact
gave it an extraordinary inte