THAT MERRY CHRISTMAS.


[Illustration: W]

What a glad noise there was that Christmas morning! The children had got
up early to look in their stockings. John's were not quite large enough
to hold all of his gifts. It is rather hard to crowd a sword, a gun, and
a rocking-horse all into one stocking.

Mary had a fine new doll. Harry had a box, and, on taking off the cover,
up sprang a wise-looking little man, with a cap on his head. Jessy had a
doll, and a very pretty one it was too. Tommy had a what-do-you-call-it.
Why did he look up the chimney? I think it was to see if there was any
sign of Santa Claus.

John mounted his horse, waved his sword, and held up his gun. But very
soon he began to get tired of them all. The thought came into his head
that he was more than eight years old. "What do I want of these toys?"
said he. "Why was I so silly as to choose them, when aunt Susan would
have given me a microscope?" And John laid down his sword and gun,
feeling quite above such childish things.

When aunt Susan came, she saw that John did not seem as glad over his
presents as the rest of the children did over theirs. "What is the
matter, John?" she asked. "Why are you not playing with your toys?"