suffering child.  Mercy, did I say?  He knows none.  Death alone could have met this little creature, whose cries have aroused within me the deepest feelings I have ever known.  To be honest, I have not always been the fierce being I appear.  Many and many a time, unknown to you, I have followed you on your errands of love and pity, and watched with admiration the course you have pursued.  This has induced me now to come and ask your favor for my treasure.  Wake, little Flax-Flower, wake!” he continued, gently kissing the child’s eyes, who, so stirred, rubbed her sleepy lids with rosy little fists, and looked around in astonishment.

“Ha!” said the good St. Nicholas; “this is indeed a strange story for you to tell, friend Bluster.  Ho, there, Merrythought! send for Mrs. Christmas, my house-keeper.  The child may be frightened at our grim faces.  But what a pretty little dear it is!” said Claus, in the kindest tones, putting out his big fat hand to caress her.  To Boreas’s surprise Flax-Flower did not shrink from his salute, but with a bright smile bounded into the old man’s arms and kissed him.

Turning away with a pang of jealousy, Boreas muttered, “She wouldn’t kiss me; but no matter.  That settles it.  She’s in the right place, and I’ll leave her.  Farewell, Claus; I’m off.  No, no; I’ve no time for eating and drinking.  Frozen Nose will be thundering at my absence already.  There’s a storm brewing even now; I feel it in my bones.”  So saying, he tramped noisily out of the apartment, nearly knocking over a fleshy dame in ruffled cap and whitest apron, whose rosy cheeks were like winter apples, and who bore in her hands a huge mince-pie in which was stuck a sprig of mistletoe.

CHAPTER II

“Come mother, cease thy spinning, and look at the lovely tree that Olaf has brought thee; it stands as straight as himself in the best room.  Surely thou wilt deck it to please him.”

“Ah, Fritz! how can I?” said the forester’s wife, rising from her wheel, with a sad but sweet smile, in obedience to her husbands wishes.

“But there is surely no reason for longer indulging thy grief.  Our child is too happy in heaven to wish her return to earth, and whatever the good God sends of pleasure or innocent mirth we should take with thankfulness.  Look at the tree; it is the very image of Olaf’s own strong youth.  Make it pretty to-night, and he will be glad.  A good friend is he for two lonely beings like us to possess.”

“You are right, Fritz,” said the wife, wiping a tear from her eyes.  “For Olaf’s sake I will dress the tree and bake a cake.”  So saying, she tidied up her best parlor, and took from a brass-bound chest the gay ribbons and trinkets which had not been used since the Christmas eve her little one last spent on earth.