d his body into
winding folds, and darted out his forked tongue with frightful hissings.

But Hercules laughed mockingly, and cried out: "Ah, Achelous! While yet
in my cradle I strangled two serpents! And what art thou compared to the
Hydra whose hundred heads I cut off? Every time I cut of I one head two
others grew in its place. Yet did I conquer that horror, in spite of its
branching serpents that darted from every wound! Thinkest thou, then,
that I fear thee, thou mimic snake?" And even as he spake he gripped, as
with a pair of pincers, the back of the river-god's head.

And Achelous struggled in vain to escape. Then, again having recourse to
his magic, he became a raging bull, and renewed the fight. But Hercules,
that mighty hero, threw his huge arms over the brawny neck of the bull,
and dragged him about. Then seizing hold of his horns, he bent his head
to one side, and bearing down fastened them into the ground. And that
was not enough, but with relentless hand he broke one of the horns, and
tore it from Achelous's forehead.

The river-god returned to his own shape. He roared aloud with rage and
pain, and hiding his mutilated head in his mantle, rushed from the hall
and plunged into the swirling waters of his stream.

Then the goddess of Plenty, and all the Wood-Nymphs and Water-Nymphs
came forward to greet the conqueror with song and dance. They took
the huge horn of Achelous and heaped it high with the rich and glowing
fruits and flowers of autumn. They wreathed it with vines and with
clustering grapes, and bearing it aloft presented it to Hercules and his
beautiful bride Deianira.

And ever since that day has the Horn of Plenty gladdened men's hearts at
Harvest-Time.

CHRISTMAS DAY

(DECEMBER 25)

LITTLE PICCOLA

AFTER CELIA THAXTER

In the sunny land of France there lived many years ago a sweet little
maid named Piccola.

Her father had died when she was a baby, and her mother was very poor
and had to work hard all day in the fields for a few sous.

Little Piccola had no dolls and toys, and she was often hungry and cold,
but she was never sad nor lonely.

What if there were no children for her to play with! What if she did not
have fine clothes and beautiful toys! In summer there were always the
birds in the forest, and the flowers in the fields and meadows,--the
birds sang so sweetly, and the flowers were so bright and pretty!

In the winter when the ground was covered with snow, Pi