children stopped under his window, he was lying on a velvet sofa near it, and, lifting himself up, he peeped out from behind the curtains just as Fred crept into his sister’s arms; and he heard all they said.
“When your ship comes in, Sweetie, will it have turkeys and jellies in it?” said Willie, leaning against her.
“Yes, indeed,” said Sweetie. “There will be turkeys almost as big as Jennie, and a great deal fatter.”
“But it’s so long coming, Sweetie; you tell us every time it will come, and it never comes at all.”
“O, no, Freddy. I don’t ever say it will come, but it’s nice to think what we would do if it should come – isn’t it?”
“We’d buy a great white house, like this – wouldn’t we, Sweetie?”
“No, Willie. I’d rather buy that nice little store over by the church, that’s been shut up so long, and has FOR SALE on the door. I’d furnish it all nice, and fill the shelves with beautiful goods, and trimmings for ladies’ dresses, and lovely toys. It shows so far that everybody would be sure to buy their Christmas things there. It’s just the dearest little place, with two cosy rooms back of the shop, and three overhead; and I’d put flour and sugar, and tea and coffee, and all sorts of goodies, in the kitchen cupboard, and new clothes for all of us in the closets up stairs. Then I’d kindle a fire, and light the lamps, and lock the door, and go back to the dreary old garret once more – poor mother would be sitting there, sad and sober, as she always is now, and I would say to her, ‘Come, mother, before you light the candle, Jennie and I want you to go with us, and look at the lovely Christmas gifts in the shop windows.’ Then she’d say, sorrowfully, ‘I don’t want to see them, dear; I can’t buy any of them for you, and I don’t want to look at them.’ But I’d tease her till I made her go; and I’d leave Harry, who would know all about it beforehand, to lock up the dismal old room, and bring all the rest of you over to the new house. You’d get there long before we did, and the light would be streaming out from the little shop windows – O, so bright! ‘Mother,’ I’d say, ‘let’s go in here, and buy the cotton you wanted;’ and when I got her in, I’d shut the door quick, and dance up and down, and say, ‘Dear mother. Sweetie’s ship’s come in, and brought you this new home, and everything comfortable; and Sweetie will tend the shop, and you needn’t sew any more day and night, for it’s going to be – ’ ‘A Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year for us – every one!’ Harry and all of you would shout, and our dear mother would cry for joy.”
“Will it come to pass soon, Sweetie?” asked both the boys at once.
“Not very, I’m afraid,” answered Sweetie, in a subdued tone; but, when she saw their look of disappointment, she brightened up in a moment, and added, “It’ll be all the better, when it does come, for waiting so long – but look here! To-night is Christmas Eve, and we’ve got coal enough here to make a splendid fire. We won’t light it till dark, and then it will last us all the evening. And I’ve got a great secret to tell you: Harry made a whole dollar yesterday, and mother is going to give us each three big slices of fried mush, and bread besides, for supper; and, after supper, I’ll tell you the prettiest story you ever heard, and we’ll sing every song we know, and I guess we’ll have a merry Christmas if nobody else does.”
“I wish it was Christmas all the time,” said Freddy, faintly.
“Christ was born that day,” said Sweetie, softly, “and that makes it best of all.”
“Yes,” said Willie; “the dear Lord who came from Heaven and, for our sakes, became poor, and had not where to lay his head, not even a garret as good as ours – ”
“I know,” said Freddy; “he was born in a manger, and a beautiful star shined right over it. I can sing a hymn about it.”
Then they picked up their bag, and started for home, gay as larks over the prospect of the treat they were to have that night – fried mush and a fire! that was all, you know.
Mr. Rogers, concealed by the heavy silk curtains, had heard every word they said, and his eyes were full of tears. He rang for his servant.
“Harris,” said he, when the man came in, “follow those children, find out where they live, and what their neighbors say of the family.”
When he was left alone again, he began to think, —
“Rich as I am, I have never yet done any great good to anybody. Who knows but God may have sent those children under my window to teach me that, instead of my own lost darlings, he means me to care for these and other suffering little ones who live in the lanes and alleys of this great city!”
Harris soon came back, and told his master what he had learned about the circumstances of the family; and he added, —
“Everybody calls the oldest girl Sweetie, and they do say she’s as good as gold.”
Mr. Rogers went out, and, before night, had bought the little corner store, for which Sweetie had longed. Then, calling his servants together, he related what he had overheard the children say, and told them how anxious he was to grant Sweetie’s wish, and let her take her mother to her new home on Christmas Day.
“But I cannot do it,” said Mr. Rogers, “unless you are willing to help me work on Christmas Eve, for there is a great deal to be done.”
No one could refuse to aid in so good a cause; and besides, Mr. Rogers was always so considerate of his servants that they were glad to oblige him. They all went to work with a will, and soon the little house and store were put in perfect order.
There were ribbons, laces, buttons, needles, pins, tapes, and, indeed, all sorts of useful things in the store. In the cellar were coal and wood, two whole hams, a pair of chickens, and a turkey. The kitchen pantry was stocked with sugar and flour. There was one barrel of potatoes, and another of the reddest apples. Up stairs the closets and bureaus were bursting with nice things to wear, not quite made into garments, but ready to be made, as soon as Sweetie and her mother got time.
So rapidly and so completely was everything arranged, that it seemed as if one of those good fairies, of whom Sweetie had so often told the children, had been at work.
“The money this has cost me,” thought Mr. Rogers, “will make a family of six happy, and do them good all the rest of their lives. I am glad the thought has come to my heart to celebrate Christ’s birthday in so pleasant a way.”
Late in the afternoon he picked his way through the dull, dirty alley to the old gray house where Sweetie lived. As he went up the worn and dusty stairway, he heard the children singing their Christmas songs.
“Poor little things!” said he; and the tears stood in his eyes. “Happy even in this miserable place, while I know so many surfeited with luxuries, and yet pining and discontented!”
Harry jumped to open the door as he knocked; and Mr. Rogers, entering, apologized to the children’s mother for his intrusion by saying he had come to ask a favor.
“It is but little we can do for any one, sir,” replied Mrs. Lawson; “but anything in our power will be cheerfully done.”
“Even if I propose to carry off this little girl of yours for a while?” he asked; but, seeing the troubled look in the other children’s faces, he hastened to explain.
“The truth is,” said he, “having no little folks of my own, I thought I’d try and make other people’s happy to-day; so I set out to get up a Christmas tree; but I find I don’t know
