en set his fellow-pupils against him.
The poor little fellow was therefore as miserable as the stones in the
street, and hid himself in out-of-the-way corners to cry when Christmas
came.
The night before Christmas the schoolmaster was to take all of his pupils
to church, and bring them back to their homes. As the winter was very
severe that year, and as for several days a great quantity of snow had
fallen, the children came to the master's house warmly wrapped and bundled
up, with fur caps pulled down over their ears, double and triple jackets,
knitted gloves and mittens, and good, thick-nailed boots with strong
soles. Only little Wolff came shivering in the clothes that he wore
week-days and Sundays, and with nothing on his feet but coarse Strasbourg
socks and heavy sabots, or wooden shoes.
His thoughtless comrades made a thousand jests over his forlorn looks and
his peasant's dress; but little Wolff was so occupied in blowing on his
fingers to keep them warm, that he took no notice of the boys or what they
said.
The troop of boys, with their master at their head, started for the
church. As they went they talked of the fine suppers that were waiting
them at home. The son of the burgomaster had seen, before he went out, a
monstrous goose that the truffles marked with black spots like a leopard.
At the house of one of the boys there was a little fir tree in a wooden
box, from whose branches hung oranges, sweetmeats and toys.
The children spoke, too, of what the Christ-child would bring to them, and
what he would put in their shoes, which they would, of course, be very
careful to leave in the chimney before going to bed. And the eyes of those
little boys, lively as a parcel of mice, sparkled in advance with the joy
of seeing in their imagination pink paper bags filled with cakes, lead
soldiers drawn up in battalions in their boxes, menageries smelling of
varnished wood, and magnificent jumping-jacks covered with purple and
bells.
Little Wolff knew very well by experience that his old aunt would send him
supperless to bed; but, knowing that all the year he had been as good and
industrious as possible, he hoped that the Christ-child would not forget
him, and he, too, looked eagerly forward to putting his wooden shoes in
the ashes of the fireplace.
When the service was ended, every one went away, anxious for his supper,
and the band of children, walking two by two after their teacher, left the
church.
In th
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