mble pertinacity, that he was fain at last to
comply. It was only a child's Christmas hymn, set to a simple, bright,
quick tune, which at first kept some of the smallest feet in a greater
state of unrest than the older children thought at all respectful.

"O little children, sing!
Jesus, your Lord and King
For you a child became:
On that bright Christmas day
He in a manger lay,
Who hath the one Almighty name!

"Come children, love him now,
Before the Saviour bow,
Give him each little heart.
His spotless nature see,--
Then like him spotless be,
And choose his service for your part.

"The joy of loving him
Shall never fade nor dim,--
While worldly joys fly fast:--
Jesus to see and love,
First here and then above,
Such joy shall ever, ever last.

"I'll give myself away
On this new Christmas day,--
He gave his life for me!
Jesus, my heart is thine,
O make it humbly shine
With ever-living love to thee!

"O Jesus, our Great Friend,
Our Saviour, without end
Thy praises we will bring!
Glory to God's high throne!
Peace now on earth is known,
And we for joy may ever sing!"

"There"--Mr. Linden said, breaking the hush into which the children had
subsided, and gently disengaging himself from them,--"now I have given
you something to think of, and you must do it, and let me go." And he
and Faith were presently on their way; Faith feeling that she had
"something to think of" too.

The sun was westing fast as they turned, but now their way lay towards
home, via sundry other places. The long sunbeams were passing lovely as
they lay upon the snow, and the fantastic shadows of Jerry and the
sleigh and all it held, were in odd harmony and contrast. The
poverty-stricken house to which the two had walked that memorable
night, had been already visited and passed, and several others with
sick or poor inhabitants. Then Mr. Linden turned off down one of the
scarce broken by-roads, and stopped before a little lonely brown house
with an old buttonwood tree in front.

"There is a blanket to go in here, Faith," he said as he took her out,
"and also my hammer!--for there is always something to do."

"Always something to do at this house?"

"Yes," he answered laughingly,--"so you must hold in check your
aversion to carpenters."

"If you'll please have a charity for the butcher and baker, and tell me
what I shall take in here? for my