l him in her next letter when they and he should
meet at home in London. Such a bright beginning was enough to make all
the rest of the day bright; and bright it was. Charlie found plenty to
do till church-time, as Molly showed him all the nooks and corners
about the farm.

The old church, with its high pews and country congregation made
Charlie feel that he must be dreaming. Surely it could not be
Christmas, but must be the autumn? and he and Laura and everybody had
come away from London for the holidays?

No; it was no dream. It was really Christmas; for there, round the
pillars, were the holly-wreaths with their red berries, and there,
behind the chancel-screen, were the same Christmas texts as in their
church in London. When service was over, Charlie and Molly hurried
home to help Martha, the farm-girl, to have all in readiness for the
Christmas dinner. But after dinner there was not much sitting
still--at any rate for Charlie; for who could think of sitting still
indoors, when outside there were a pond covered with ice and a
farmyard full of horses and dogs?

Nor was the evening after tea without its pleasure. When the snow
began to fall, and the doors and windows were tightly closed, then a
huge log was piled on the fire; and while Farmer and Mrs. Lamb sat and
talked before it in the parlor, Charlie and Molly had a fine game of
romps in the big kitchen with Martha; and when they were tired of
that, they sat on the hearth and roasted chestnuts, while nurse read a
Christmas tale to them.

And here I must leave Charlie finishing his Christmas day, hoping that
any who read this story of it may agree with Charlie in thinking, when
he laid his head on the pillow that night, that, though it had been
spent far from home, it had not been an unhappy day, after all.

[Illustration: {Marcellin and the hunter}]

MARCELLIN.

Marcellin, a young shepherd boy, who tended his father's flock upon
the mountains, having penetrated a deep gorge to search for one of his
sheep which was missing, discovered in the thickest of the forest a
man lying upon the ground overcome with fatigue, and faint from want
of food.

"My poor lad," said the man, "I am dying from hunger and thirst. Two
days ago I came upon this mountain to hunt. I lost my way, and I have
passed two nights in the woods."

Marcellin drew some bread and cheese from his knapsack, and gave to
the stranger.

"Eat," he said, "and then follow me. I will conduc