The child answered nothing, but looked piteously up in the charcoal-burner’s face.

“Well, I cannot leave thee here.  Thou would’st be dead before the morning.”

So saying, Hermann raised it in his arms, wrapping it in his cloak and warming its little cold hands in his bosom.  When he arrived at his hut, he put down the child and tapped at the door, which was immediately thrown open, and the children rushed to meet him.

“Here, wife, is a guest to our Christmas Eve supper,” said he, leading in the little one, who held timidly to his finger with its tiny hand.

“And welcome he is,” said the wife.  “Now let him come and warm himself by the fire.”

The children all pressed round to welcome and gaze at the little new-comer.  They showed him their pretty fir-tree, decorated with bright, colored lamps in honor of Christmas Eve, which the good mother had endeavored to make a fete for the children.

Then they sat down to supper, each child contributing of its portion for the guest, looking with admiration at its clear, blue eyes and golden hair, which shone so as to shed a brighter light in the little room; and as they gazed, it grew into a sort of halo round his head, and his eyes beamed with a heavenly luster.  Soon two white wings appeared at his shoulders, and he seemed to grow larger and larger, and then the beautiful vision vanished, spreading out his hands as in benediction over them.

Hermann and his wife fell on their knees, exclaiming, in awe-struck voices:  “The holy Christ-child!” and then embraced their wondering children in joy and thankfulness that they had entertained the Heavenly Guest.

The next morning, as Hermann passed by the place where he had found the fair child, he saw a cluster of lovely white flowers, with dark green leaves, looking as though the snow itself had blossomed.  Hermann plucked some, and carried them reverently home to his wife and children, who treasured the fair blossoms and tended them carefully in remembrance of that wonderful Christmas Eve, calling them Chrysanthemums; and every year, as the time came round, they put aside a portion of their feast and gave it to some poor little child, according to the words of the Christ:  “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.”

THE LEGEND OF THE CHRISTMAS ROSE

SELMA LAGERLOeF

Robber Mother, who lived in Robbers’ Cave up in Goeinge forest, went down to the village one day on a begging tour.  Robber Father, who was an outlawed man, did not dare to leave the forest, but had to content himself with lying in wait for the wayfarers who ventured within its borders.  But at that time travellers were not very plentiful in Southern Skane.  If it so happened that the man had had a few weeks of ill luck with his hunt, his wife would take to the road.  She took with her