til after the
birthday; and, indeed, many important things were neglected.

Finally the birthday came, the rooms were all decorated, the table set,
all the little gifts arranged, and the guests from outside of the house
had all arrived. Just after the festivities had begun a little child
said to its mother: "Mamma, where is the man whose birthday it is--"

"Hush, hush," the mother said, "don't ask questions."

But the child persisted, until finally the mother said: "Well, I am
sure I do not know, my dear, but I will ask."

She asked her neighbor, and the neighbor looked surprised and a little
puzzled.

"Why," she said, "it is a celebration, we are celebrating his birthday,
and he is a guest in the house."

Then the mother got interested and curious herself.

"But where is the guest? Where is the man whose birthday it is?" And,
this time she asked one of the family. He looked startled at first, and
then inquired of the rest of the family.

"Where is the guest whose birthday it is?" Alas I nobody knew. There
they were, all excited and trying to enjoy themselves by celebrating
his birthday, and he,--some of them did not even know who he was! He
was left out and forgotten!

When they had wondered for a little while they immediately forgot
again, and went on with their celebrations,--all except the little
child. He slipped out of the room and made up his mind to find the man
whose birthday it was, and, finally, after a hard search, he found him
upstairs in the attic,--lonely and sick.

He had been asked to leave the guestroom, which he had occupied, and to
move upstairs, so as to be out of the way of the preparations for his
birthday. Here he had fallen ill, and no one had had time to think of
him, excepting one of the humbler servants and this little child. They
had all been so busy preparing for his birthday festival that they had
forgotten him entirely.

This is the way it is with most of us at Christmas time.

Whenever we think of a friend, or even an acquaintance, we think of his
various qualities,--not always in detail, but as forming a general
impression which we associate with his name. If it is a friend whom we
love and admire, we love, especially on his birthday, to dwell on all
that is good and true in his character; and at such times, though he
may be miles away in body, we find ourselves living with him every hour
of the day, and feel his presence, and, from that feeling, do our daily
tasks with t