With a wave of his candle all three miracles were wrought,--for the snow-
flakes turned to a white fur cloak and hood on Effie's head and shoulders,
a bowl of hot soup came sailing to her lips, and vanished when she had
eagerly drunk the last drop; and suddenly the dismal field changed to a
new world so full of wonders that all her troubles were forgotten in a
minute.

Bells were ringing so merrily that it was hard to keep from dancing. Green
garlands hung on the walls, and every tree was a Christmas tree full of
toys, and blazing with candles that never went out.

In one place many little spirits sewed like mad on warm clothes, turning
off work faster than any sewing-machine ever invented, and great piles
were made ready to be sent to poor people. Other busy creatures packed
money into purses, and wrote checks which they sent flying away on the
wind,--a lovely kind of snow-storm to fall into a world below full of
poverty.

Older and graver spirits were looking over piles of little books, in which
the records of the past year were kept, telling how different people had
spent it, and what sort of gifts they deserved. Some got peace, some
disappointment, some remorse and sorrow, some great joy and hope. The rich
had generous thoughts sent them; the poor, gratitude and contentment.
Children had more love and duty to parents; and parents renewed patience,
wisdom, and satisfaction for and in their children. No one was forgotten.

"Please tell me what splendid place this is?" asked Effie, as soon as she
could collect her wits after the first look at all these astonishing
things.