.

She told her mother about Santa Claus, and her mother seemed to think
that perhaps he did not know there was any little girl in that house,
and very likely he would not come at all. But Piccola felt very sure
Santa Claus would remember her, for her little friends had promised to
send a letter up the chimney to remind him.

Christmas Eve came at last. Piccola's mother hurried home from her
work; they had their little supper of soup and bread, and soon it was
bedtime,--time to get ready for Santa Claus. But oh! Piccola
remembered then for the first time that the children had told her she
must hang up her stocking, and she hadn't any, and neither had her
mother.

How sad, how sad it was! Now Santa Claus would come, and perhaps be
angry because he couldn't find any place to put the present.

The poor little girl stood by the fireplace, and the big tears began
to run down her cheeks. Just then her mother called to her, "Hurry,
Piccola; come to bed." What should she do? But she stopped crying, and
tried to think; and in a moment she remembered her wooden shoes, and
ran off to get one of them. She put it close to the chimney, and said
to herself, "Surely Santa Claus will know what it's there for. He will
know I haven't any stockings, so I gave him the shoe instead."

Then she went off happily to her bed, and was asleep almost as soon as
she had nestled close to her mother's side.

The sun had only just begun to shine, next morning, when Piccola
awoke. With one jump she was out on the floor and running toward the
chimney. The wooden shoe was lying where she had left it, but you
could never, never guess what was in it.

Piccola had not meant to wake her mother, but this surprise was more
than any little girl could bear and yet be quiet; so she danced to the
bed with the shoe in her hand, calling, "Mother, mother! look, look!
see the present Santa Claus brought me!"

Her mother raised her head and looked into the shoe. "Why, Piccola,"
she said, "a little chimney swallow nestling in your shoe? What a good
Santa Claus to bring you a bird!"

"Good Santa Claus, dear Santa Claus!" cried Piccola; and she kissed
her mother and kissed the bird and kissed the shoe, and even threw
kisses up the chimney, she was so happy.

When the birdling was taken out of the shoe, they found that he did
not try to fly, only to hop about the room; and as they looked closer,
they could see that one of his wings was hurt a little. But the mot