olling a comfortable arm-chair for Sweetie in
front of a glowing fire, "while you are getting warm, and eating your
dinner, I am going to tell you about my Christmas tree, and how your
ship came in."

A little table was brought in, and set between them, filled with so
many delicacies, that Sweetie's head grew dizzy at the sight. She
thought of her little hungry brothers and sister, and would rather not
have eaten, but Mr. Rogers made her.

"My little girl," said he, finally, "never forget this: God always
rewards a faithful heart. If he seems to be a long time without caring
for his children, he never forgets or forsakes them."

Then he told her that he had overheard her conversation with her
brothers under his window, and that God had suddenly put it into his
heart to take care of some of the poor and fatherless in that great
city. "And I am going to begin with Sweetie," said he, very tenderly;
"and this is the way her ship shall come in. She shall have a new home
to give to her mother for a Christmas present, and the boys shall sing
their Christmas hymns to-night in the bright little parlor of the
corner store, instead of the dingy old garret; and here are the deeds
made out in Katie Lawson's own name, and nobody can take it away from
her. But come, little woman," he added,--for Sweetie was sobbing for
joy, and could not thank him,--"go and wash your face, for the horses
are tired of standing in the cold, and we must go and fetch the boys,
or I shall never get my Christmas tree set up."

An old lady, with a face beaming with kindness,--it was Mr. Rogers's
housekeeper,--then took Sweetie, and not only washed her tear-stained
cheeks, but curled her soft brown hair, and put on her the loveliest
blue dress, with boots to match. All the time she was dressing her,
Sweetie, who could not believe her senses, kept murmuring,--

"It's only a dream; it's too good to be true; the boys won't believe
it, I know; it's just like a fairy story, and, of course, it's only
pretending."

"No, indeed," said the old lady; "it's really true, my dear, and I
hope you'll be so grateful and kind to Mr. Rogers that he won't be so
lonely as he has been without his own dear little children."

Sweetie could hardly realize her own good fortune; and, when she went
down into the parlor, she burst into tears again, saying,--

"O, sir, I can't believe it. I am so happy!"

"So am I, Sweetie," said Mr. Rogers; and really it was hard to tell
whic