<h3>HOW IT ALL HAPPENED.</h3>
<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">It</span> was a small room, with nothing in it but a bed,
two chairs, and a big chest. A few little gowns
hung on the wall, and the only picture was the wintry
sky, sparkling with stars, framed by the uncurtained
window. But the moon, pausing to peep, saw something
pretty and heard something pleasant. Two
heads in little round nightcaps lay on one pillow,
two pairs of wide-awake blue eyes stared up at the
light, and two tongues were going like mill clappers.</p>
<p>"I'm so glad we got our shirts done in time! It
seemed as if we never should, and I don't think six
cents is half enough for a great red flannel thing
with four button-holes—do you?" said one little
voice, rather wearily.</p>
<p>"No; but then we each made four, and fifty cents
is a good deal of money. Are you sorry we didn't
keep our quarters for ourselves?" asked the other
voice, with an under-tone of regret in it.</p>
<p>"Yes, I am, till I think how pleased the children
will be with our tree, for they don't expect anything,
and will be so surprised. I wish we had more toys
to put on it, for it looks so small and mean with only
three or four things."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</SPAN></span>
"It won't hold any more, so I wouldn't worry
about it. The toys are very red and yellow, and I
guess the babies won't know how cheap they are,
but like them as much as if they cost heaps of
money."</p>
<p>This was a cheery voice, and as it spoke the four
blue eyes turned toward the chest under the window,
and the kind moon did her best to light up the tiny
tree standing there. A very pitiful little tree it
was—only a branch of hemlock in an old flower-pot,
propped up with bits of coal, and hung with a few
penny toys earned by the patient fingers of the elder
sisters, that the little ones should not be disappointed.</p>
<p>But in spite of the magical moonlight the broken
branch, with its scanty supply of fruit, looked pathetically
poor, and one pair of eyes filled slowly with
tears, while the other pair lost their happy look, as if
a cloud had come over the sunshine.</p>
<p>"Are you crying, Dolly?"</p>
<p>"Not much, Polly."</p>
<p>"What makes you, dear?"</p>
<p>"I didn't know how poor we were till I saw the
tree, and then I couldn't help it," sobbed the elder
sister, for at twelve she already knew something of
the cares of poverty, and missed the happiness that
seemed to vanish out of all their lives when father
died.</p>
<p>"It's dreadful! I never thought we'd have to earn<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</SPAN></span>
our tree, and only be able to get a broken branch,
after all, with nothing on it but three sticks of candy,
two squeaking dogs, a red cow, and an ugly bird
with one feather in its tail;" and overcome by a
sudden sense of destitution, Polly sobbed even more
despairingly than Dolly.</p>
<p>"Hush, dear; we must cry softly, or mother will
hear, and come up, and then we shall have to tell.
You know we said we wouldn't seem to mind not
having any Christmas, she felt so sorry about it."</p>
<p>"I <i>must</i> cry, but I'll be quiet."</p>
<p>So the two heads went under the pillow for a few
minutes, and not a sound betrayed them as the little
sisters cried softly in one another's arms, lest mother
should discover that they were no longer careless
children, but brave young creatures trying to bear
their share of the burden cheerfully.</p>
<p>When the shower was over, the faces came out
shining like roses after rain, and the voices went on
again as before.</p>
<p>"Don't you wish there really was a Santa Claus,
who knew what we wanted, and would come and put
two silver half-dollars in our stockings, so we could
go and see <i>Puss in Boots</i> at the Museum to-morrow
afternoon?"</p>
<p>"Yes, indeed; but we didn't hang up any stockings,
you know, because mother had nothing to put
in them. It does seem as if rich people might think<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</SPAN></span>
of poor people now and then. Such little bits of
things would make us happy, and it couldn't be
much trouble to take two small girls to the play, and
give them candy now and then."</p>
<p>"<i>I</i> shall when I'm rich, like Mr. Chrome and Miss
Kent. I shall go round every Christmas with a big
basket of goodies, and give <i>all</i> the poor children
some."</p>
<p>"P'r'aps if we sew ever so many flannel shirts we
may be rich by-and-by. I should give mother a new
bonnet first of all, for I heard Miss Kent say no lady
would wear such a shabby one. Mrs. Smith said fine
bonnets didn't make real ladies. I like her best, but
I do want a locket like Miss Kent's."</p>
<p>"I should give mother some new rubbers, and
then I should buy a white apron, with frills like Miss
Kent's, and bring home nice bunches of grapes and
good things to eat, as Mr. Chrome does. I often
smell them, but he never gives <i>me</i> any; he only says,
'Hullo, chick!' and I'd rather have oranges any
time."</p>
<p>"It will take us a long while to get rich, I'm
afraid. It makes me tired to think of it. I guess
we'd better go to sleep now, dear."</p>
<p>"Good-night, Dolly."</p>
<p>"Good-night, Polly."</p>
<p>Two soft kisses were heard, a nestling sound followed,
and presently the little sisters lay fast asleep<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</SPAN></span>
cheek against cheek, on the pillow wet with their
tears, never dreaming what was going to happen to
them to-morrow.</p>
<p>Now Miss Kent's room was next to theirs, and as
she sat sewing she could hear the children's talk, for
they soon forgot to whisper. At first she smiled,
then she looked sober, and when the prattle ceased
she said to herself, as she glanced about her pleasant
chamber:</p>
<p>"Poor little things! they think I'm rich, and envy
me, when I'm only a milliner earning my living. I
ought to have taken more notice of them, for their
mother has a hard time, I fancy, but never complains.
I'm sorry they heard what I said, and if I
knew how to do it without offending her, I'd trim a
nice bonnet for a Christmas gift, for she <i>is</i> a lady, in
spite of her old clothes. I can give the children
some of the things they want anyhow, and I will.
The idea of those mites making a fortune out of
shirts at six cents apiece!"</p>
<p>Miss Kent laughed at the innocent delusion, but
sympathized with her little neighbors, for she knew
all about hard times. She had good wages now, but
spent them on herself, and liked to be fine rather
than neat. Still, she was a good-hearted girl, and
what she had overheard set her to thinking soberly,
then to acting kindly, as we shall see.</p>
<p>"If I hadn't spent all my money on my dress for<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</SPAN></span>
the party to-morrow night, I'd give each of them a
half-dollar. As I can not, I'll hunt up the other
things they wanted, for it's a shame they shouldn't
have a bit of Christmas, when they tried so hard to
please the little ones."</p>
<p>As she spoke she stirred about her room, and soon
had a white apron, an old carnelian heart on a fresh
blue ribbon, and two papers of bonbons ready. As
no stockings were hung up, she laid a clean towel on
the floor before the door, and spread forth the small
gifts to look their best.</p>
<p>Miss Kent was so busy that she did not hear a
step come quietly up stairs, and Mr. Chrome, the
artist, peeped at her through the balusters, wondering
what she was about. He soon saw, and watched
her with pleasure, thinking that she never looked
prettier than now.</p>
<p>Presently she caught him at it, and hastened to
explain, telling what she had heard, and how she was
trying to atone for her past neglect of these young
neighbors. Then she said good-night, and both
went into their rooms, she to sleep happily, and he
to smoke as usual.</p>
<p>But his eye kept turning to some of the "nice
little bundles" that lay on his table, as if the story
he had heard suggested how he might follow Miss
Kent's example. I rather think he would not have
disturbed himself if he had not heard the story told<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</SPAN></span>
in such a soft voice, with a pair of bright eyes full of
pity looking into his, for little girls were not particularly
interesting to him, and he was usually too tired
to notice the industrious creatures toiling up and
down stairs on various errands, or sewing at the long
red seams.</p>
<p>Now that he knew something of their small
troubles, he felt as if it would please Miss Kent,
and be a good joke, to do his share of the pretty
work she had begun.</p>
<p>So presently he jumped up, and, opening his parcels,
took out two oranges and two bunches of
grapes, then he looked up two silver half-dollars, and
stealing into the hall, laid the fruit upon the towel,
and the money atop of the oranges. This addition
improved the display very much, and Mr. Chrome
was stealing back, well pleased, when his eye fell on
Miss Kent's door, and he said to himself, "She too
shall have a little surprise, for she is a dear, kind-hearted
soul."</p>
<p>In his room was a prettily painted plate, and this
he filled with green and purple grapes, tucked a sentimental
note underneath, and leaving it on her
threshold, crept away as stealthily as a burglar.</p>
<p>The house was very quiet when Mrs. Smith, the
landlady, came up to turn off the gas. "Well, upon
my word, here's fine doings, to be sure!" she said,
when she saw the state of the upper hall. "Now I<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</SPAN></span>
wouldn't have thought it of Miss Kent, she is such
a giddy girl, nor of Mr. Chrome, he is so busy with
his own affairs. I meant to give those children each
a cake to-morrow, they are such good little things.
I'll run down and get them now, as my contribution
to this fine set out."</p>
<p>Away trotted Mrs. Smith to her pantry, and picked
out a couple of tempting cakes, shaped like hearts
and full of plums. There was a goodly array of pies
on the shelves, and she took two of them, saying, as
she climbed the stairs again, "They remembered
the children, so I'll remember them, and have my
share of the fun."</p>
<p>So up went the pies, for Mrs. Smith had not much
to give, and her spirit was generous, though her
pastry was not of the best. It looked very droll to
see pies sitting about on the thresholds of closed
doors, but the cakes were quite elegant, and filled
up the corners of the towel handsomely, for the
apron lay in the middle, with the oranges right and
left, like two sentinels in yellow uniforms.</p>
<p>It was very late when the flicker of a candle came
up stairs, and a pale lady, with a sweet sad face,
appeared, bringing a pair of red and a pair of blue
mittens for her Dolly and Polly. Poor Mrs. Blake
did have a hard time, for she stood all day in a great
store that she might earn bread for the poor children
who staid at home and took care of one another.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</SPAN></span>
Her heart was very heavy that night, because it was
the first Christmas she had ever known without gifts
and festivity of some sort. But Petkin, the youngest
child, had been ill, times were very hard, the little
mouths gaped for food like the bills of hungry birds,
and there was no tender mate to help fill them.</p>
<p>If any elves had been hovering about the dingy
hall just then, they would have seen the mother's
tired face brighten beautifully when she discovered
the gifts, and found that her little girls had been so
kindly remembered. Something more brilliant than
the mock diamonds in Miss Kent's best earrings fell
and glittered on the dusty floor as Mrs. Blake added
the mittens to the other things, and went to her
lonely room again, smiling as she thought how she
could thank them all in a sweet and simple way.</p>
<p>Her windows were full of flowers, for the delicate
tastes of the poor lady found great comfort in their
beauty. "I have nothing else to give, and these will
show how grateful I am," she said, as she rejoiced
that the scarlet geraniums were so full of gay clusters,
the white chrysanthemum stars were all out, and
the pink roses at their loveliest.</p>
<p>They slept now, dreaming of a sunny morrow as
they sat safely sheltered from the bitter cold. But
that night was their last, for a gentle hand cut them
all, and soon three pretty nosegays stood in a glass,
waiting for dawn, to be laid at three doors, with a<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</SPAN></span>
few grateful words which would surprise and delight
the receivers, for flowers were rare in those hard-working
lives, and kind deeds often come back to
the givers in fairer shapes than they go.</p>
<p>Now one would think that there had been gifts
enough, and no more could possibly arrive, since all
had added his or her mite except Betsey, the maid,
who was off on a holiday, and the babies fast
asleep in their trundle-bed, with nothing to give but
love and kisses. Nobody dreamed that the old cat
would take it into her head that her kittens were in
danger, because Mrs. Smith had said she thought
they were nearly old enough to be given away. But
she must have understood, for when all was dark and
still, the anxious mother went patting up stairs to the
children's door, meaning to hide her babies under
their bed, sure they would save them from destruction.
Mrs. Blake had shut the door, however, so
poor Puss was disappointed; but finding a soft,
clean spot among a variety of curious articles, she
laid her kits there, and kept them warm all night,
with her head pillowed on the blue mittens.</p>
<p>In the cold morning Dolly and Polly got up and
scrambled into their clothes, not with joyful haste to
see what their stockings held, for they had none, but
because they had the little ones to dress while mother
got the breakfast.</p>
<p>Dolly opened the door, and started back with a<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</SPAN></span>
cry of astonishment at the lovely spectacle before
her. The other people had taken in their gifts, so
nothing destroyed the magnificent effect of the treasures
so curiously collected in the night. Puss had
left her kits asleep, and gone down to get her own
breakfast, and there, in the middle of the ruffled
apron, as if in a dainty cradle, lay the two Maltese
darlings, with white bibs and boots on, and white
tips to the tiny tails curled round their little noses in
the sweetest way.</p>
<p>Polly and Dolly could only clasp their hands and
look in rapturous silence for a minute; then they
went down on their knees and revelled in the unexpected
richness before them.</p>
<p>"I do believe there <i>is</i> a Santa Claus, and that he
heard us, for here is everything we wanted," said
Dolly, holding the carnelian heart in one hand and
the plummy one in the other.</p>
<p>"It must have been some kind of a fairy, for we
didn't mention kittens, but we wanted one, and here
are two darlings," cried Polly, almost purring with
delight as the downy bunches unrolled and gaped
till their bits of pink tongues were visible.</p>
<p>"Mrs. Smith was one fairy, I guess, and Miss
Kent was another, for that is her apron. I shouldn't
wonder if Mr. Chrome gave us the oranges and the
money: men always have lots, and his name is on
this bit of paper," said Dolly.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</SPAN></span>
"Oh, I'm <i>so</i> glad! Now we shall have a Christmas
like other people, and I'll never say again that
rich folks don't remember poor folks. Come and
show all our treasures to mother and the babies;
they must have some," answered Polly, feeling that
the world was all right, and life not half as hard as
she thought it last night.</p>
<p>Shrieks of delight greeted the sisters, and all that
morning there was joy and feasting in Mrs. Blake's
room, and in the afternoon Dolly and Polly went to
the Museum, and actually saw <i>Puss in Boots</i>; for
their mother insisted on their going, having discovered
how the hard-earned quarters had been spent.
This was such unhoped-for bliss that they could
hardly believe it, and kept smiling at one another so
brightly that people wondered who the happy little
girls in shabby cloaks could be who clapped their
new mittens so heartily, and laughed till it was better
than music to hear them.</p>
<p>This was a very remarkable Christmas-day, and
they long remembered it; for while they were absorbed
in the fortunes of the Marquis of Carabas
and the funny cat, who tucked his tail in his belt,
washed his face so awkwardly, and didn't know how
to purr, strange things were happening at home, and
more surprises were in store for our little friends.
You see, when people once begin to do kindnesses,
it is so easy and pleasant they find it hard to leave<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</SPAN></span>
off; and sometimes it beautifies them so that they
find they love one another very much—as Mr.
Chrome and Miss Kent did, though we have nothing
to do with that except to tell how they made the
poor little tree grow and blossom.</p>
<p>They were very jolly at dinner, and talked a good
deal about the Blakes, who ate in their own rooms.
Miss Kent told what the children said, and it
touched the soft spot in all their hearts to hear
about the red shirts, though they laughed at Polly's
lament over the bird with only one feather in its tail.</p>
<p>"I'd give them a better tree if I had any place to
put it, and knew how to trim it up," said Mr.
Chrome, with a sudden burst of generosity, which
so pleased Miss Kent that her eyes shone like
Christmas candles.</p>
<p>"Put it in the back parlor. All the Browns are
away for a week, and we'll help you trim it—won't
we, my dear?" cried Mrs. Smith, warmly; for she
saw that he was in a sociable mood, and thought it
a pity that the Blakes should not profit by it.</p>
<p>"Yes, indeed; I should like it of all things, and
it needn't cost much, for I have some skill in trimmings,
as you know." And Miss Kent looked so gay
and pretty as she spoke that Mr. Chrome made up
his mind that millinery must be a delightful occupation.</p>
<p>"Come on then, ladies, and we'll have a little<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</SPAN></span>
frolic. I'm a lonely old bachelor, with nowhere to
go to-day, and I'd like some fun."</p>
<p>They had it, I assure you; for they all fell to work
as busy as bees, flying and buzzing about with much
laughter as they worked their pleasant miracle. Mr.
Chrome acted more like the father of a large family
than a crusty bachelor, Miss Kent's skillful fingers
flew as they never did before, and Mrs. Smith trotted
up and down as briskly as if she were sixteen instead
of being a stout old woman of sixty.</p>
<p>The children were so full of the play, and telling
all about it, that they forgot their tree till after supper;
but when they went to look for it they found it
gone, and in its place a great paper hand with one
finger pointing down stairs, and on it these mysterious
words in red ink:</p>
<p>"Look in the Browns' back parlor!"</p>
<p>At the door of that interesting apartment they
found their mother with Will and Petkin, for another
hand had suddenly appeared to them pointing up.
The door flew open quite as if it were a fairy play,
and they went in to find a pretty tree planted in a
red box on the centre table, lighted with candles,
hung with gilded nuts, red apples, gay bonbons, and
a gift for each.</p>
<p>Mr. Chrome was hidden behind one folding-door,
and fat Mrs. Smith squeezed behind the other, and
they both thought it a great improvement upon the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</SPAN></span>
old-fashioned Santa Claus to have Miss Kent, in the
white dress she made for the party, with Mrs. Blake's
roses in her hair, step forward as the children gazed
in silent rapture, and with a few sweet words welcome
them to the little surprise their friends had
made.</p>
<p>There were many Christmas trees in the city that
night, but none which gave such hearty pleasure as
the one which so magically took the place of the
broken branch and its few poor toys. They were all
there, however, and Dolly and Polly were immensely
pleased to see that of all her gifts Petkin chose the
forlorn bird to carry to bed with her, the one yellow
feather being just to her taste.</p>
<p>Mrs. Blake put on her neat bonnet, and was so
gratified that Miss Kent thought it the most successful
one she ever trimmed. She was well paid for
it by the thanks of one neighbor and the admiration
of another; for when she went to her party
Mr. Chrome went with her, and said something on
the way which made her heart dance more lightly
than her feet that night.</p>
<p>Good Mrs. Smith felt that her house had covered
itself with glory by this event, and Dolly and Polly
declared that it was the most perfect and delightful
surprise party ever seen.</p>
<p>It was all over by nine o'clock, and with good-night
kisses for every one the little girls climbed up<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</SPAN></span>
to bed laden with treasures and too happy for many
words. But as they tied their round caps Dolly
said, thoughtfully:</p>
<p>"On the whole, I think it's rather nice to be poor
when people are kind to you."</p>
<p>"Well, I'd <i>rather</i> be rich; but if I can't be, it is
very good fun to have Christmas trees like this one,"
answered truthful Polly, never guessing that they
had planted the seed from which the little pine-tree
grew so quickly and beautifully.</p>
<p>When the moon came to look in at the window on
her nightly round, two smiling faces lay on the pillow,
which was no longer wet with tears, but rather
knobby with the mine of riches hidden underneath,—first
fruits of the neighborly friendship which
flourished in that house until another and a merrier
Christmas came.</p>
<hr />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</SPAN></span></p>
<h2><SPAN name="III" id="III"></SPAN>III.</h2>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />