This is a story of Three Christmas Trees. The first was a real one, but
the child we are to speak of did not see it. He saw the other two, but
they were not real; they only existed in his fancy. The plot of the
story is very simple; and, as it has been described so early, it is
easy for those who think it stupid to lay the book down in good time.

Probably every child who reads this has seen one Christmas tree or
more; but in the small town of a distant colony with which we have to
do, this could not at one time have been said. Christmas-trees were
then by no means so universal, even in England, as they now are, and in
this little colonial town they were unknown. Unknown, that is, till the
Governor's wife gave her great children's party. At which point we will
begin the story.

The Governor had given a great many parties in his time. He had
entertained big wigs and little wigs, the passing military, and the
local grandees. Everybody who had the remotest claim to attention had
been attended to: the ladies had had their full share of balls and
pleasure parties: only one class of the population had any complaint to
prefer against his hospitality; but the class was a large one--it was
the children. However, he, was a bachelor, and knew little or nothing
about little boys and girls: let us pity rather than blame him. At last
he took to himself a wife; and among the many advantages of this
important step, was a due recognition of the claims of these young
citizens. It was towards happy Christmas-tide that "the Governor's
amiable and admired lady" (as she was styled in the local newspaper)
sent out notes for her first children's party. At the top of the
note-paper was a very red robin, who carried a blue Christmas greeting
in his mouth, and at the bottom--written with A.D.C.'s best