And so ended the first of the Three Christmas Trees.

* * * * *

Except for a warm glow from the wood fire in the stove, the room was dark; but about midnight it seemed to the child that a sudden blaze of light filled the chamber.  At the same moment the window curtains were drawn aside, and he saw that the spruce fir had come close up to the panes and was peeping in.  Ah! how beautiful it looked!  It had become a Christmas tree.  Lighted tapers shone from every familiar branch, toys of the most fascinating appearance hung like fruit, and on the tip-top shoot there stood the Christmas Angel.  He tried to count the candles, but somehow it was impossible.  When he looked at them they seemed to change places—­to move—­to become like the angel, and then to be candles again, whilst the flames nodded to each other and repeated the blue greeting of the robin, “A Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!” Then he tried to distinguish the presents, but, beautiful as the toys looked, he could not exactly discover what any of them were, or choose which he would like best.  Only the Angel he could see clearly—­so clearly!  It was more beautiful than the doll under his pillow; it had a lovely face like his own mother’s, he thought, and on its head gleamed a star far brighter than tinsel.  Its white robes waved with the flames of the tapers, and it stretched its arms towards him with a smile.

“I am to go and choose my present,” thought the child; and he called “Mother!  Mother dear! please open the window.”

But his mother did not answer.  So he thought he must get up himself, and with an effort he struggled out of bed.

But when he was on his feet, everything seemed changed!  Only the firelight shone upon the walls, and the curtains were once more firmly closed before the window.  It had been a dream, but so vivid that in his feverish state he still thought it must be true, and dragged the curtains back to let in the glorious sight again.  The firelight shone upon a thick coating of frost upon the panes, but no further could he see, so with all his strength he pushed the window open and leaned out into the night.

The spruce fir stood in its old place; but it looked very beautiful in its Christmas dress.  Beneath it lay a carpet of pure white.  The snow was clustered in exquisite shapes upon its plumy branches; wrapping the tree top with its little cross shoots, as a white robe might wrap a figure with outstretched arms.

There were no tapers to be seen, but northern lights shot up into the dark blue sky, and just over the fir-tree shone a bright, bright star.

“Jupiter looks well to-night,” said the old Professor in the town observatory, as he fixed his telescope; but to the child it seemed as the star of the Christmas Angel.

His mother had really heard him call, and now came and put him back to bed again.  And so ended the second of the Three Christmas Trees.