swept across the frozen bosom of a river. A woman's face looked up at me;
it was the picture of eternal rest. 'She is sleeping,' said the frozen
river. 'I rock her to and fro, and sing to her. Pass gently by, O
moonbeam; pass gently by, lest you awaken her.'"

"How strangely you talk," said the old clock. "Now, I'll warrant me that,
if you wanted to, you could tell many a pretty and wonderful story. You
must know many a Christmas tale; pray tell us one to wear away this night
of Christmas watching."

"I know but one," said the moonbeam. "I have told it over and over again,
in every land and in every home; yet I do not weary of it. It is very
simple. Should you like to hear it?"

"Indeed we should," said the old clock; "but before you begin, let me
strike twelve; for I shouldn't want to interrupt you."

When the old clock had performed this duty with somewhat more than usual
alacrity, the moonbeam began its story:--

"Upon a time--so long ago that I can't tell how long ago it was--I fell
upon a hillside. It was in a far distant country; this I know, because,
although it was the Christmas time, it was not in that country as it is
wont to be in countries to the north. Hither the snow-king never came;
flowers bloomed all the year, and at all times the lambs found pleasant
pasturage on the hillsides. The night wind was balmy, and there was a
fragrance of cedar in its breath. There were violets on the hillside, and
I fell amongst them and lay there. I kissed them, and they awakened. 'Ah,
is it you, little moonbeam?' they said, and they nestled in the grass
which the lambs had left uncropped.