Christmas will not be here when you first get the December magazine, I know, but ST. NICHOLAS likes to get a good start.  He has Dutch blood in his veins, and he knows well that in Holland St. Nicholas’ Day comes on the 6th of December.

So, just think of the dear Dutch youngsters, and what a happy holiday they keep on the 6th,—­for that is their season of gift-giving,—­and when the 25th comes to you, with its holy, beautiful light, and its home joys, you’ll be all the more ready to give it welcome.

Now for

A WINDFALL.

Here is a copy of a printed scrap thrown to me by a high wind the other day.  It isn’t of very much use to a Jack-in-the-Pulpit; so I hand it over to you, my chicks.  It strikes me that it has the gist of some of Deacon Green’s remarks, and that somehow it doesn’t come under the head of what is called “pernicious reading”: 

“GOOD ADVICE FOR THE YOUNG.—­Avoid all boastings and exaggerations, backbiting, abuse, and evil speaking; slang phrases and oaths in conversation; depreciate no man’s qualities, and accept hospitalities of the humblest kind in a hearty and appreciative manner; avoid giving offense, and if you do offend, have the manliness to apologize; infuse as much elegance as possible into your thoughts as well as your actions; and, as you avoid vulgarities, you will increase the enjoyment of life, and grow in the respect of others.”

KING ALFRED AND THE CAKES.

Here is a story which I heard a girl tell her little sister the other day, but I don’t believe the girl told it altogether right.  Can any of my youngsters straighten it out?  This is the story: 

King Alfred, after his fatal defeat at Marston Moor, having taken refuge in an oak-tree, was so absorbed in watching a spider which had tried to weave its web eleven times and succeeded on the twelfth, that he allowed the cakes to burn; whereupon, the herdsman’s wife, rushing in, exclaimed: 

“Oh, Diamond!  Diamond! what mischief hast thou done?”

To which he meekly replied:  “I cannot tell a lie; I did it with my little hatchet.”

“Take away,” cried she, “that bauble!”

“I have done my duty, thank heaven!” said he, but he never smiled again.

A LITTLE SCHOOLMA’AM.

    DEAR JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT:  I should like to tell the Little
    Schoolma’am about our little schoolma’am.

She is a young lady of about twenty-one years, and looks too delicate to govern such a school.  But she does it; and though as fond of fun as any of us at the right time, yet in school she insists on attention to business, and will not tolerate idleness or disobedience.  She is very kind and gentle, but firm and decided, and we all know that she means what she says, and must