And this is the reason we love Christmas Day so much, and try to make everybody happy when it comes around each year.  This is the reason; because Christ, who was born on Christmas Day, has helped us all to be good so many, many times, and because He was the best Christmas present the world ever had!

[*] From “The Story Hour,” by Kate Douglas Wiggins and Nora A. Smith.  Used by permission of the authors and also of the publishers—­Houghton, Mifflin and Company.

THE LEGEND OF THE CHRISTMAS TREE[*]

By Lucy Wheelock

Two little children were sitting by the fire one cold winter’s night.  All at once they heard a timid knock at the door, and one ran to open it.

There, outside in the cold and the darkness, stood a child with no shoes upon his feet and clad in thin, ragged garments.  He was shivering with cold, and he asked to come in and warm himself.

“Yes, come,” cried both the children; “you shall have our place by the fire.  Come in!”

They drew the little stranger to their warm seat and shared their supper with him, and gave him their bed, while they slept on a hard bench.

In the night they were awakened by strains of sweet music and, looking out, they saw a band of children in shining garments approaching the house.  They were playing on golden harps, and the air was full of melody.

Suddenly the Stranger Child stood before them; no longer cold and ragged, but clad in silvery light.

His soft voice said:  “I was cold and you took Me in.  I was hungry, and you fed Me.  I was tired, and you gave Me your bed.  I am the Christ Child, wandering through the world to bring peace and happiness to all good children.  As you have given to Me, so may this tree every year give rich fruit to you.”

So saying, He broke a branch from the fir tree that grew near the door, and He planted it in the ground and disappeared.  But the branch grew into a great tree, and every year it bore wonderful golden fruit for the kind children.

[*] From “For the Children’s Hour,” by Bailey and Lewis.  Used by permission of the authors and the publishers—­Milton Bradley Company.

LITTLE JEAN[*]

A Christmas Story

Long ago, and far from here, in a country with a name too hard to pronounce, there lived a little boy named Jean.  In many ways, he was just like the boys here, for there are many Johns over here, are there not?  Then too, Jean lived with his auntie, and some of our boys do that too.  His father and mother were dead, and that is true here sometimes, isn’t it?  But in some ways things were quite different with Jean.  In the first place his auntie was very, very cross, and she often made him climb up his ladder to his little garret room to go to sleep on his pallet of straw, without any supper, save a dry crust.  His stockings had holes in the heels,