hall be satisfied with that, I know. But listen! I can hear
father and Hans coming."

"Then put up your work, children, and set the supper-table."

The girls jumped up and hurriedly put the presents away. It did not
take long to set the supper-table, for the meals in this little home
were very simple, and supper was the simplest of all. A large plate
of black bread and a pitcher of sour milk were brought by the mother,
and the family gathered around the table.

The bread wasn't really black, of course. It was dark brown and very
coarse. It was made of rye meal. Bertha and Gretchen had never seen
any white bread in their lives, for they had never yet been far away
from their own little village. Neither had their brother Hans.

They were happy, healthy children. They all had blue eyes, rosy
cheeks, and fair hair, like their father and mother.

"You don't know what I've got for you, Hans," said Bertha, laughing
and showing a sweet little dimple in her chin.

Hans bent down and kissed her. He never could resist that dimple,
and Bertha was his favourite sister.

"I don't know what it is, but I do know that it must be something
nice," said her brother.

When the supper-table had been cleared, the mother and girls took out
their sewing again, while Hans worked at some wood-carving. The
father took an old violin from its case and began to play some of the
beautiful airs of Germany.

When he came to the "Watch on the Rhine," the mother's work dropped
from her hands as she and the children joined in the song that stirs
every German heart.

"Oh, dear! it seems as though Christmas Eve never would come," sighed
Bertha, as she settled herself for sleep beside her sister.

It was quite a cold night, but they were cosy and warm. Why
shouldn't they be? They were covered with a down feather bed. Their
mother had the same kind of cover on her own bed, and so had Hans.

But Christmas Eve did come at last, although it seemed so far off to
Bertha the night before. Hans and his father brought in the bough of
a yew-tree, and it was set up in the living-room.

The decorating came next. Tiny candles were fastened on all the
twigs. Sweetmeats and nuts were hung from the branches.

"How beautiful! How beautiful!" exclaimed the children when it was
all trimmed, and they walked around it with admiring eyes.

None of the presents were placed on the tree, for that is not the
fashion in Germany. Each little gift had