The Nursery, January 1873, Vol. XIII.

CHRISTMAS MORNING

 
Stockings in the kitchen, hung up in a row;
Santa Claus has filled them,—yes, from top to toe;
Purple, gold, and crimson, paint the fallen snow,—
On Christmas Day, so early in the morning.
 
 
Earnest little whispers from the cosey bed;
Busy little footsteps pattering overhead;
Down the stairs they wander, to sweet music wed,—
On Christmas Day, so early in the morning.
 
 
Dolls and drums and trumpets, what a sight to see!
Whips and tops and tea-sets,—one for you and me;
Blooming in the corner, such a Christmas-tree,—
On Christmas Day, so early in the morning.
 
 
Bells up in the steeples; hark! they sweetly tell
How the blessed Saviour loves the children well;
And they sing the glories that long since befell
On Christmas Day, so early in the morning.
 
 
Wee, soft, fairy footsteps outside in the hall,
Then the words of baby musically fall,—
"Going to kiss my papa, first one of them all!"
On Christmas Day, so early in the morning.
 

George Cooper.

KATY'S CHRISTMAS-PRESENTS

Poor Katy Carr was an invalid. She had to lie in bed all the time; for not long ago she had a bad fall from a swing, and hurt her spine.

But Katy had brothers and sisters. There was Clover, the little girl, who, in the picture, is seen looking over the head of the bed, behind the pillow. There was Elsie, who is seen hugging Katy.

Sister Joanna is the girl with black curls, who stands with a stocking in her hand. Brother Phil, not yet old enough for trousers, stands at her side; and that boy with his hand on the knob of the bedpost is Dorry.

It is Christmas morning; and the children have brought in presents for poor sick Katy. Observe that nice large chair with a long-cushioned back, ending in a footstool, and which tips back so as to be just like a bed: that is a present from Katy's father.

See that little evergreen-tree planted in a red flower-pot: the boughs are hung with oranges and nuts, and shiny red apples, and pop-corn balls, and strings of bright berries. These are all presents from the children. A little silver bell, with "Katy" engraved on the handle, is among the pretty things.

Then there is a new book, which you may spy out if you will look sharp. How the children do enjoy seeing dear Katy happy! They have all had presents themselves; and they will soon show them to her. They hope she will be well enough to play with them before spring.

These children used to have rare frolics among themselves. On St. Valentine's eve, they had many letters, most of which, I think, must have been written by Katy.

But among them there was one from Little Red Riding Hood, over whose sad fate Joanna used to cry. As many other children have heard about Red Riding Hood, they will be glad to have good news of her. Here is her letter:—

I send you my picture, dear Johnnie, to show that I'm just as alive as you, and that you needn't cry over my fate any more, as you used to do. The wolf didn't hurt me at all that day; for I kicked and fought and cried, till he dropped me out of his mouth, and ran away in the woods to hide.

And grandma and I have lived ever since in the little brown house so small, and churned fresh butter, and made cream-cheeses, nor seen the wolf at all. So cry no more for fear I'm eaten: the naughty wolf is shot, and, if you will come to tea some evening, you shall see for yourself, I'm not.

Yours,              Red Riding Hood.

If you would like to hear more about the Carr children, you will find their full history most charmingly written in a book called "What Katy Did;" a story by Susan Coolidge, nicely illustrated by Addie Ledyard, and published by Roberts Brothers.