glad I tried to make somebody happy; and though I am very tired with my day's work, and I have not been able to do much, yet I have tried to use "Good-Purpose" well. Oh, I am pleased that I have made this Christmas time pleasant to somebody!'

“In the abundance of her joy, the Christmas Fairy trolled out a little fairy ballad, and then nestling her head against a neighbouring spray, fell fast asleep."

(( Thank you, papa," cried Edith, as soon as Mr. Melville had finished.

your own nice stories, papa."

"That's one of

"Thank you, papa; thank you, uncle," came in a joyous chorus from all..

CHAPTER IV.

CHRISTMAS-DAY.

The

THE prophecies of the young people about the weather had certainly proved correct, for it had been snowing all night, and Christmas morning revealed a "white world." ground was dry, and the snow piled itself everywhere. It had fallen on the leafless branches of the lime trees, until they seemed to be decked in glistening silver robes, and dropped a shower of glistening gems as some bird from the neighbouring wood suddenly alighted on the boughs. It had fallen so rapidly that it entirely concealed the grass of the orchard that stretched away to the road on the other side of the fossé. The great trees of Leyoak Park which skirted the orchard, looked like giants with hoary crowns, and Charlie said, "the old sun-dial on the

lawn looked like a dwarf judge in a white wig and ermine robes." The snow had piled itself along the eaves and on the gables of the old house until you might have fancied that some fairy hands had beaded it with silver during the hours of the night.

It was still snowing when the family gathered for breakfast-falling silently and rapidly, until it was difficult to make out the outline of the drive up to the house. The great white flakes piled themselves up so speedily on the lawn, that the sun-dial seemed likely to be soon partially buried in its ample snowy robes. The sculptured figures that stood here and there in the large garden looked extremely cold and uncomfortable as the snow heaped itself on their heads or drifted into their faces. Rupert said that it made him cold to look at them; whilst George declared they were "the jolliest guys he had seen a long time."

Charlie was the last to make his appearance, but there was no mistaking who was coming when he opened the door.

"Bravo, bravo! Here's a jolly Christmas snow for you. A merry Christmas to you,

mamma, dear. A merry Christmas to you, papa. Merry Christmas to you, Kate, Nellie, Edith. The ladies first, of course. A merry

Christmas to you, Mark, Rupert, and George." And the bright, mischievous lad shook each heartily by the hand, and bowed with mock gravity to all.

The bells of Chesterton parish church were ringing gaily, they had been ringing almost all night. Kate and Edith said they had heard them hours before, but the boys and Nellie had slept too soundly. There were footprints of children on the snow leading from the gate to the house, whilst round the porch the snow was trodden as though many feet had been trampling there.

"Whose footprints are those on the snow?" said Charlie, as he looked from the window. "Have you children been dancing there this morning?"

"Don't be so foolish, Charlie," said Mark. "You know better."

Perhaps the Christmas Fairy has been having a dance there, Charlie," said Kate. "Then she must have a good many feet of different sizes," replied Charlie.

"I'll tell you whose footmarks they are,” said Edith. "They are the carol-singers."

"Did you hear them sing, Edith?" said Charlie.

"Yes; I and Kate were awake, and heard them sing all their carols."

"What a bore that you didn't wake me." "Yes, it was a shame, Charlie. They never even woke me," said Nellie.

"Well, never mind," said Mr. Melville. "I hope you all heard sweet songs in your dreams."

The bells kept on ringing, saying as cheerily as any Christmas bells could say it, "A merry, merry Christmas to you." Everybody seemed glad in the house, and, like the bells in Chesterton tower, wished everybody else "a merry Christmas."

The old house looked quite gay inside on that Christmas morning; there were evergreens nearly everywhere, and the long, oldfashioned hall was transformed into a bower of greenery. The breakfast-room looked its gayest, there were Christmas boughs in all directions. Ivy leaves of burnished green, and scarlet-berried holly seemed to smile