ters closed
over him.

The next morning a fisherman found his body. George's wife and mother
were saved. The wise men of the land said that the ill-starred child had
perished, as they had foreseen, and the people echoed their words.

In the mausoleum of the Greylocks only two places remained empty, and
these had to be kept for Wendelin the Lucky and his queen, consequently
the ill-omened son might not even rest in the grave of his fathers, and
George was buried on a green hillside, whence there was a beautiful view
of the lake and distant landscape.

King Wendelin the Lucky and his wife lived to a good old age. After the
king became childish, he ceased to groan and whimper in the night, as he
had formerly done. When he died, he was interred next to Queen Isabella,
in the coldest corner of the marble mausoleum, and no ray of sun ever
rested on his stone sarcophagus. His son, Wendelin XVII., visited his
father's grave once a year, on All Saints' Day, and laid a dry wreath of
immortelles on the lid of the coffin.

George's resting-place was surrounded by bushes and flowers. His mother
and wife and child visited it and cared for it. When the spring came,
nightingales, redbreasts, finches and thrushes without number sang their
merry notes above the head of the unfortunate one who lay there. His son
George grew to be the pride of his mother, and became a noble prince
in beautiful Italy. Centuries have passed since then, yet to-day
enthusiastic artists still make pilgrimages to the hillside where
the sun shines so brightly, to lay wreaths on the grave of the great
architect George Peregrinus of the princely house of the Greylocks.

They at least do not regard him who lies there as one born to
misfortune.

THE NUTS

A Christmas Story for my Children and Grandchildren

By Georg Ebers

The wounded colonel, whom we were nursing back to health in our house,
was not allowed to walk long, and in the after noon, after he had
pottered about a little, he was obliged to rest in the comfortable old
easy-chair, which was known as grandfather's chair.

When twilight fell, our dear guest lighted the last of the three pipes,
which the doctor permitted him to smoke every day, and made a sign to
the children, which the young people obeyed gladly, for they loved to
listen to his stories.

The convalescent was under orders not to talk for more than half an hour
at a time, for his wounds were so severe that our experienced