LITTLE BROTHER.

cooks of the Rue Royale, and gorgeous with pink and white icing. He clapped his
hands with delight at the marvel. And how happy they all were to see him
happy. The pastry cakes (patés) were delicious, his favorite honey-cake (pain
d’épice) more spicy than ever before, and Madame Bonnier’s Christmas biscuits.
(estevenous) were baked, so they said, as no one in Tours knew how. It was a
‘merry supper. Grandmamma bustled around to see that all were bountifully
served, and over the good things many a pleasant tale of bygone times was re-
lated by Father Dupin, many a gay laugh rang through the little room. Pierre
was kissed and petted and feasted to his heart’s content, until the gray light of
dawn peeped in through the back window and the party began to disperse.

The day brought no stockings filled with the gifts of a Santa Claus, no tree
decked with candles and tinsel. These are unknown delights to all French.
children of the provinces educated in the Romish Church. Pierre had learned
the story of the Christ-child’s birth from the celebration of the midnight mass in
the Cathedral, and the neighborhood feast had been his Christmas merry-making,,
his share in the “ peace on earth, good will to men.”

Estelle M. Hurll.

EG Ee soi O@ mle iipletns

ITTLE brother did not wake
When the sun shone out to-day ;
Did not answer when I called,
Asking him to come and play.

So I brought him all his toys.

“Nay,” they said, in grave surprise,
“ Brother is an angel now ;

He has gone to Paradise.”

Then I laughed in my delight,
Tossing top and ball aside ;
But they wept with faces hid,
And I wondered why they cried.
H. R. Hudson.