to be, any
more. Now it's time for breakfast."

The little girl held her papa fast around the neck.

"You sha'n't go if you're going to leave it _so_!"

"How do you want it left?"

"Christmas once a year."

"All right," said her papa; and he went on again.

Well, there was the greatest rejoicing all over the country, and it
extended clear up into Canada. The people met together everywhere, and
kissed and cried for joy. The city carts went around and gathered up
all the candy and raisins and nuts, and dumped them into the river;
and it made the fish perfectly sick; and the whole United States, as
far out as Alaska, was one blaze of bonfires, where the children were
burning up their gift-books and presents of all kinds. They had the
greatest _time_!

The little girl went to thank the old Fairy because she had stopped
its being Christmas, and she said she hoped she would keep her promise
and see that Christmas never, never came again. Then the Fairy
frowned, and asked her if she was sure she knew what she meant; and
the little girl asked her, Why not? and the old Fairy said that now
she was behaving just as greedily as ever, and she'd better look out.
This made the little girl think it all over carefully again, and she
said she would be willing to have it Christmas about once in a
thousand years; and then she said a hundred, and then she said ten,
and at last she got down to one. Then the Fairy said that was the good
old way that had pleased people ever since Christmas began, and she
was agreed. Then the little girl said, "What're your shoes made of?"
And the Fairy said, "Leather." And the little girl said, "Bargain's
done forever," and skipped off, and hippity-hopped the whole way home,
she was so glad.

"How will that do?" asked the papa.

"First-rate!" said the little girl; but she hated to have the story
stop, and was rather sober. However, her mamma put her head in at the
door, and asked her papa:

"Are you never coming to breakfast? What have you been telling that
child?"

"Oh, just a moral tale."

The little girl caught him around the neck again.

"_We_ know! Don't you tell _what_, papa! Don't you tell _what_!"

TURKEYS TURNING THE TABLES.

"Well, you see," the papa began, on Christmas morning, when the little
girl had snuggled in his lap into just the right shape for listening,
"it was the night after Thanksgiving, and you know how everybody