s. Walters, she would
serve it as she had done his cat.

The twenty-fourth of December came, and our hero's heart beat high,
half with joy, half with apprehension. He had his plan, but there was
another will than his own to determine its being effected. Jem Taylor
had gone up the river a few days before, to spend the holidays with
his mother, and the other journeymen had given up work early on the
day already mentioned.

Jem, however, who really liked our hero, had given him a shilling as a
Christmas gift; this, with some pennies from his friend the
market-woman, made him feel rich, and he resolved to spend it in
Christmas gifts. Yes, Christmas gifts, dear reader; but there are
different kinds of such. He would not spend his little store in
bonbons and cakes, which do no good; tea, sugar, and other like
necessary articles, could be put up in horn-shaped papers, and be hung
on his branch of evergreen; and then, if he only dared go out on
Christmas day, how nice it would be to set it up in old Mrs. Graham's
room!

Most children, in giving Christmas presents, expect to receive in
return. Not so our little shoemaker. But he, too, had his equivalent;
yes, more--the approbation of his own heart, which is always the
reward of a disinterested action. Mrs. Burton, too, gave him a small
mince-pie, when he went in the morning for the milk; this, too, was
saved for the great occasion.

The afternoon came, and with it two pairs of children's shoes, which
one of the journeymen had tarried to finish, were brought in.
William's heart beat almost audibly; they were for his friend, Mrs.
Bradley. Should he be the errand-boy on this occasion? A petition to
be permitted to spend Christmas eve from home had been trembling on
his lips all day, but each time, when about to speak, his resolution
failed. But now the words. "Bill, run off with these shoes to Mrs.
Bradley, the market-woman," filled him with delight, and emboldened
him to beg for the remainder of the evening. Seeing there was no one
left to work, Mr. Walters assented, and with great joy of heart the
little shoemaker prepared to enjoy his long-anticipated festival.

He had ornamented his little tree to the best of his ability, by tying
to the branches bits of coloured leather which he had cut into stars
and other shapes, with some ends of ribbon picked from the odds and
ends of binding used in the upper shop. He had also bought a candle or
two, which he cut in pieces, and fas