father and mother and everybody must have Christmas boxes, and tomorrow morning the fairies will have filled out little socks and big stockings too; errand boys are running along with visions of plumpudding dancing before their eyes, making them cut such capers and forget all about the cold. Even staid old men and matrons descend from their dignity, and laugh and chatter with the youngsters as if they too were young again, for to-morrow is Christmas day and everybody is happy.

Everybody, did we say? Look at that little girl coming this way, ragged and dirty, with naked feet, blue and frost-bitten, bare-headed, save for the thick, matted black hair, her face so thin and pinched, her black eyes, large and bright, such hungry looking eyes they are. She does not expect to have a happy Christmas. She looks longingly at all the lovely things in the windows as she creeps slowly along. But what attracts her most are the bakers' shops, with their tempting array of bread and cakes. "Oh ! if somebody would only give me a penny, just to buy a roll," she thinks. She has had to be content all the week with bits of stale crusts she has picked up. But the happy children and people pass on. It snows faster and faster, as if it too was trying to hurry away. The ground begins to look white, there are fewer feet to trample it now, and the ragged child with bare feet looks up, and thinks how pretty it looks when it is coming down, and what a pity it should get so dirty and spoilt on the ground. She wonders who makes it, and where it comes from. She wanders on till she comes to a large house: there are children singing before the door, she stops to listen; they are singing,—

"Hark! the herald angels sing,
Glory to the new-born King."

When they have done some one comes out and gives them money and cakes, but the poor starving child only sees all this; she gets none of the good things. She is very tired now, and sits on a door-step to rest, gathering her feet up under her poor rags trying to get warm. Again she hears those children carolling, and now and then catches the words, "New-born King." She sleepily murmurs tc herself, wonder who he is, somebody very rich and good, I dare say, as they make such a fuss about him. I wonder now if 'king' is the same as 'queen.' I heard a 'bobby' say, when he come to fete

1

"I

that man

out of our court, as he was the Queen's servant. I s'pose them singers is the King's servants. I wish I was one, I might get something to eat then, and p'raps some shoes. I'll go and follow them children just now, and find out where this King lives. There, they're singing about him again. I wonder if he is kind to poor persons like me, may be he don't know anything about us though, I've never seen him come this way. I'd better go and tell him, if I was a king I'd keep servants a purpose to look after poor persons as hadn't got no fathers or mothers, and give 'em something to eat."

So the child thought on, until, overcome with cold and weariness, she fell asleep, the cold stone for her pillow, and the soft, pure snow for a covering. The next minute she opened her eyes, and saw that the snow-flakes were turned into a host of little tairy creatures dressed in white, with shining wings, something like the fairies on the Christmas trees in the shop windows, only brighter, and as they came nearer they seemed to grow larger and larger, and looked so lovely. As she lay watching with wondering eyes, one of the beautiful creatures, in a voice like the tinkling of a silver bell, said, "Poor child, how miserable she looks, we will take her to see the King, it is His birthday to-morrow." And then all the other little angels began singing,

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They gently lifted the little child up, and she seemed to be supported in their midst, as they flew along singing sweetly. Presently they came to a large door, there they stopped; and then the little girl asked them if they were the King's servants. They smiled and said, "Yes," and then asked her her name. Maggie," she said, "may I be a servant too?" "You must ask the King," was the reply; "He sent us to fetch you, because He heard you say you wanted to see Him; you'll find Him in there, we'll wait for you here, Maggie." Then she saw that the door was open, and the inside was so bright she could not see for a time, but when her eyes were accustomed to the brightness, she saw more angels, all in shining garments, and they all smiled and beckoned her in; she felt rather afraid at first, and looked at her ragged frock, but their kind looks reassured her, and she asked, "Please does the King live here? I want to speak to Him." One of the angels took her by the hand, and led her up to One who sat in the midst of the others. He looked Maggie so lindly, and was so

beautiful, that for a time she could do nothing but look at Him. When she recovered herself, she noticed the angels were singing the same song she had heard the children sing in the streets,

Only here the singing was sweeter than anything she had ever heard. The One who sat in the midst of them was on a bright and splendid throne, and received their homage with such sweetness and dignity, that the thought flashed across her mind, "This must be the King." But somehow she could not say what she wanted to. The King, for it was He, saw her hesitation, and said in a kind, gentle voice, "Little Maggie, I am the King, what do you want?" When He spoke the singing ceased, all the angels were silent, and looked on with intense interest. Then Maggie, summoning up all her courage, replied to the King's question, "Please may I be one of your servants?" The King put His hand on her head, and said, in a sweeter, kinder tone than before, "Yes, Maggie, you shall be one of My own children. I love all little ones like you, I knew you were cold and hungry, so I sent one of these My servants to take care of you ; and some day you shall come and live with Me here. You see all My servants are dressed in white, and all who come here must be dressed in the same way. So you must go back for a time, and try to get some other little children to be My servants, and then bye and bye you shall come and stay here always, and wear a white robe, and sing as you have just heard My servants sing." Then He smiled sweetly, and waved His hand to the angel who had brought her, and who then took her by the hand and led her back to the door, where the angels who came with her were waiting to accompany her back. Before the door closed behind her,

As the angels carried her back to earth she shut her eyes in a happy dreamy fashion, and thought of the wonderful things she had seen and heard, and especially of the King, whose kind words still rang in her ears, and whose sweet smile still shone right down into her little heart, carrying with it such a feeling of intense happiness as it never had known before. When she opened her eyes again she was on the door-step, the angels were gone; the snow was falling thicker and faster, and had nearly covered her up, and oh! she was so cold, she could not help crying.

In the house upon the door-step of which Maggie lay, there lived a kind gentleman and his wife, whose names were Mr. and Mrs. Gray. They were not rich, but God had given them kind and loving hearts; they were servants of the Heavenly King, and loved to do His will. They had three children. Alice, the eldest, a black-haired, brighteyed maiden of eight. Florrie, the next, a blue-eyed fairy of six, and Harry, the youngest and pet of them all, a fat curly-headed little fellow of four. These well-cared-for and much-loved children had been safe in bed some hours, dreaming of the good things Santa Claus was to bring them to-morrow. Mr. Gray and his wife were retiring for the night, when passing the hall door on their way upstairs, they heard a cry, as of some one in distress; they listened, and could plainly hear that it was a child crying. "Goodness me! John," said Mrs. Gray, 66 a child out there at this time of the night, and such a night too, do open the door and see." The door was quickly opened, the light streamed forth on the glistening snow, and there lay poor half-frozen little Maggie. Mrs. Gray lifted her up, saying, "Why, John, it's a little girl about as big as our Alice; wherever can she have come from?" The child was too numbed with cold to move or speak, so they brought her in, and took her to the kitchen, where a fire was still burning. When the warmth had revived the child a little, Mrs. Gray spoke to her. "What is your name, little girl?" "Maggie," "Where do you come from, where is your home?" "I ain't got none, I lives with an old woman as gets drunk and beats me, and won't let me stop in the house." "Poor child, have you no father or mother?" No, not nobody, I'm trying to find out where the King lives, so that I can be His servant." "What King?"

was the answer.

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questioned Mrs. Gray. "Him the children sings about,

'Glory to the new-born King,'"

she said, "does He live here? Are you His servants?" and the child looked round as if she expected to see the King. Mr. and Mrs. Gray smiled, and Maggie thought she must be right, for that was how the angels had looked at her! Poor Maggie, she had had more frowns and blows than smiles during her short life. Mr. and Mrs. Gray knew well enough who that King was, and said, "Yes, we are His servants." "Oh! I am so glad," the child said, almost crying for joy. Her kind friends turned away from her, and began discussing what they should do with her. "We cannot turn her away to-night, my

dear," said Mr. Gray. "I should think not, indeed,” replied his wife, we should not be worthy of the name of Christians if we did; she shall sleep here by the fire all night, and then in the morning we will see what can be done; we may be saving her soul as well as her body. She is one of Christ's little ones, and who knows, He may have sent her here on purpose that we may show our love to Him by caring for His lost child," So it was all arranged, very much to Maggie's satisfaction; and after being fed and warmed, she fell asleep upon the little bed Mrs. Gray made up for her, with such a sense of rest and happiness as she had never before known. So Christmas morning dawned, and found our little friend snug and warm in Mrs. Gray's kitchen; when she opened her eyes, a kind, smiling face was bending over her, and she thought at first it was one of the angels, and she was dreaming again, and would presently wake up to find herself on the doorstep in the snow; but a hand that seemed to belong to the kind face was stroking her tangled hair, and a gentle voice said, “Well, little Maggie, have you slept well?" Then she remembered it all; this was the lady who had brought her in from the snow last night. "How do you feel, now?" said the voice again. "Oh! it's just splendid," said the child, with sparkling eyes. "Will you get up now and have some breakfast? my little ones have had theirs long ago, it is Christmas day you know, the day on which Jesus was born." "Who's Jesus? Oh!" and a sudden thought struck her, "p'raps that's the King's name, is it?" "Yes, my dear," and then Mrs. Gray told her that hundreds of years ago, some shepherds were minding their sheep at night, when all at once they saw a very bright light, and a host of shining angels descending from heaven; they were frightened at first, but one of the angels said to them, "Don't be afraid, we have come to tell you that not far away, in a little village called Bethlehem, there is a little baby boy born, His name is to be called Jesus, for God has sent Him into the world, and He is to grow up and be called a Saviour, and the Prince of Peace, for He shall save the people from their sins." And then the shining throng winged their way back to the skies, and as they went the whole earth resounded with their song of joy, "Glory to God in the highest, peace on earth, goodwill towards men, for unto you is born this day, in the city of David, a Saviour, which is Chris (Continued on page 10.)