he
milk," said Tilly, smiling over the nice steaming supper that stood
ready for her.

"I've had plenty, dear. Sit down and dry your wet feet, and put the
bird in my basket on this warm flannel."

Tilly peeped into the closet, and saw nothing there but dry bread.

"Mother's given me all the milk, and is going without her tea, 'cause
she knows I'm hungry. Now I'll surprise her, and she shall have a good
supper too. She is going to split wood, and I'll fix it while she's
gone."

So Tilly put down the old teapot, carefully poured out a part of the
milk, and from her pocket produced a great plummy bunn, that one of
the school children had given her, and she had saved for her mother. A
slice of the dry bread was nicely toasted, and the bit of butter set
by for her to put on it. When her mother came in, there was the table
drawn up in a warm place, a hot cup of tea ready, and Tilly and birdie
waiting for her.

Such a poor little supper, and yet such a happy one! for love,
charity, and contentment were guests there, and that Christmas eve was
a blither one than that up at the great house, where lights shone,
fires blazed, a great tree glittered, and music sounded, as the
children danced and played.

"We must go to bed early; for we've only wood enough to last over
to-morrow. I shall be paid for my work the day after, and then we can
get some," said Tilly's mother, as they sat by the fire.

"If my bird was only a fairy bird, and would give us three wishes, how
nice it would be! Poor dear, he can't give me anything; but it's no
matter," answered Tilly, looking at the robin, who lay in the basket,
with his head under his wing, a mere little feathery bunch.

"He can give you one thing, Tilly--the pleasure of doing good. That is
one of the sweetest things in life; and the poor can enjoy it as well
as the rich."

As her mother spoke, with her tired hand softly stroking her little
daughter's hair, Tilly suddenly started, and pointed to the window,
saying, in a frightened whisper,--

"I saw a face--a man's face--looking in. It's gone now; but I truly
saw it."

"Some traveller attracted by the light, perhaps; I'll go and see." And
Tilly's mother went to the door.

No one was there. The wind blew cold, the stars shone, the snow lay
white on field and wood, and the Christmas moon was glittering in the
sky.

"What sort of a face was it?" asked Tilly's mother, coming back.

"A pleasant sort of face, I think; but I was s