THE CHRISTMAS GIFT.

helm, and his horse-boat was ready for use. It had
cost him about a. hundred dollars besides his own
labor upon it, but it would carry live stock and
freight as well as passengers, and so the business of
the ferry rapidly increased, and Joe began to put a
little money away in the bank.

After awhile a railroad was built into the village,
and then a second one came. A year later another

railroad was opened on the other side of the river,

and all the passengers who came to one village by
rail had to be ferried across the river in order to con-
tinue their journey by the railroads there. The horse-
boat was too small and too slow for the business,
and Joe Lambert had to buy two steam ferry-boats
to take its place. These cost more money than he
had, but, as the owner of the ferry privilege, his
credit was good, and the boats soon paid for them-
selves, while Joe’s bank account grew again.

Finally the railroad people determined to run
through cars for passengers and freight, and to carry
them across the river on large boats built for that

249
purpose ; but before they gave their orders to their
boat builders, they were waited upon by the attor-
neys of Joe Lambert, who soon convinced them that
his ferry privilege gave him alone the right to run
any kind of ferry-boats between the two villages
which had now grown to such size that they called
themselves cities. The result was that the railroads
made a contract with Joe to carry their cars across.
and he had some large boats built for that pur
pose.

All this occurred a good many years ago, and Joe
Lambert is not called Joe now, but Captain Lambert.
He is one of the most prosperous men in the little
river city, and owns many large river steamers besides
his ferry-boats. Nobody is readier than he to help
a poor boy or a poor man; but he has his own way
of doing it. He will never toss so much as a cent
to a beggar, but he never refuses to give man or boy
achance to earn money by work. He has an odd
theory that money which comes without work does
more harm than good.

 

THE CHRISTMAS GIFT.

 

By CexraA THAXTER.

 

YOU dear little dog, all eyes and fluff!
How can I ever love you enough?
How was it, I wonder, that any one knew
1 wanted a little dog, just like you?
With your jet black nose, and each sharp-cut ear,
And the tail you wag —O you ave so dear!
Did you come trotting through all the snow
To find my door, I should like to know ?
Or did you ride with the fairy team
Of Santa Claus, of which children dream,
Tucked all up in the furs so warm,
Driving like mad over village and farm,
O’er the country drear, o’er the city towers,
Until you stopped at this house of ours?
Did you think ’twas a little girl like me
You were coming so fast thro’ the snow to see?
Well, whatever way you happened here,
You are my pet and my treasure dear —

Such a Christmas present! O such a joy!
Better than any kind of a toy !

Something that eats and drinks and walks,
And looks so lovely and almost talks ;
With a face so comical and wise,

And such a pair of bright brown eyes!

T’ll tell you something : The other day

I heard papa to my mamma say

Very softly, “I really fear

Our baby may be quite spoiled, my dear.
We’ve made of our darling such a pet,

I think the little one may forget

There’s any creature beneath the sun
Beside herself to waste thought upon.”
I’m going to show him what I can do

For a dumb little helpless thing like you,
T’ll not be selfish and slight you, dear;
Whenever I can I shall keep you near;