[Illustration: THE LONELY LITTLE GIRL.]
IT was Christmas morning. Gracie Bennett had wakened early and
scrambled out of bed to take a look about her room to see if Santa
Claus had paid her a visit while she slept. Santa Claus had queer ways
of doing things in the Bennett household. He left packages scattered
about in the most unexpected places. He was always sure to leave one
for each member of the family in the dining-room, to be opened at the
breakfast table, but the children did not have to wait so long for
the beginning of the day's surprises. And Gracie found several of
these before she had taken half a dozen steps from her bed. Indeed
there was a large box on the foot of the bed. In it she found the
hat she had been longing for--just exactly like Maud Spencer's! And
there in a smaller box was the necklace--and O, how lovely! The bangle
bracelet--mamma did not fancy bangles and Gracie did not expect to get
that. But mamma knew that little girls' tastes have to be cultivated
considerably before they get beyond bangles, and after talking it over
with papa she concluded that Gracie's last whim should be indulged
since there was really no harm in it. On went the necklace, and on
went the bracelet. "One, two, three, four, five, six--six hooks. Let
me see--cousin Tom promised me a bangle and of course papa and mamma
will each give me one, and Maud's will make four--O, I'll soon have
enough to fill it. My! it is shivery here," and Gracie looked around
for something to put about her; the furnace fire had run low and it
was quite cold. A dressing-gown belonging to cousin Tom which Louise
had brought in to mend, hung over a chair, and Gracie was soon arrayed
in it. And finding herself quite comfortable she concluded not to go
back to bed, but busied herself with her new treasures, saying, "Just
as soon as the first bell rings I'll go and wish papa and mamma 'Merry
Christmas!'" Presently the bell pealed through the house, and Gracie,
arrayed in her new hat, made her first call. Then she pattered down the
hall to cousin Tom's room to be first with Christmas greetings. Tom was
up, and opening the door, drew her into his room.
"O, how nice! your grate burns lovely."
After the new hat, necklace and bangle bracelet had been duly admired,
Tom and Gracie, his little cousin, sat down in the great arm chair to
enjoy the bright fire and have one of their chats.
"Who are you going to make happy to-day?"
"Me? How can I make anybody happy?"
Tom smiled as he replied, "Do you not know that you make us all happy,
just by being here?"
"O, I thought you meant something different."
"So I did, little one. There are a great many people in this city who
have very little to make them happy, and you and I who have so much may
make at least one heart joyful on this glad Christmas day, do you not
think so?"
"If I knew how," said Gracie.
"We will try to find a way. I see you are quite dressed up this
morning," referring to the dressing-gown. "Do you see my new one?"
"Yes; you are the one that is dressed up."
"I know a poor invalid to whom I mean to give the old one, and there is
a little girl who has not a comfortable dress nor a pair of shoes."
"Nor any nice hat and bracelet?"
"No, I doubt if she has any hat or even a hood. I saw her out with an
old shawl over her head."
Just then the second bell rang and Gracie was obliged to go and get
ready for breakfast. Other surprises awaited her, but she was unusually
thoughtful, and at last Louise said, "Gracie, what makes you so sober?
Are you not satisfied?"
"O, yes; but I am thinking what I can give to a little girl who has
nothing to make her happy to-day."
"I don't believe there are any such people," said Louise; "everybody
manages to get about so much out of something, I guess. They may not
have just what we have, but there's something."
"Do you believe that?" asked cousin Tom.
"Maybe not exactly, but there's no use in making a child like Gracie
miserable over what she can't help," replied Louise, in a low tone.
"But she can help a little."
"I am going to help," said Gracie earnestly, having caught the drift of
Tom's question. "I have made up my mind what I shall send the little
girl cousin Tom told me about."
"Suppose I should take you to see her?"
"I should like that! If mamma will let me go."
"I think she will. Auntie, will you let me have Gracie for an hour this
morning? I will take good care of her."
"O, mamma!" expostulated Louise, "he is going to take her among his
poor people! She will be sure to get a fever or something!"
"I am going to take you, too," said Tom; "and I am not going to take
either of you into any dangerous places."
Louise arched her eyebrows as she replied, "Going to take me! We'll
see." But she went. She generally did whatever Tom suggested.
I am not certain whether it was the package of warm clothing, the
basket containing the Christmas dinner, the toys which Gracie had
packed, not forgetting a bead necklace, or the presence of the
beautiful child and lovely young lady in that home, that brought
the most of happiness upon that Christmas day to the sad heart of
Karl Ritter and his lonely little girl. But this I do know, that the
visitors carried away as much happiness as they brought, for Gracie
declared it was the nicest Christmas she had ever spent, and even
Louise confessed that there was a new joy in her heart that day, for
she had tested the truth, "It is more blessed to give than to receive."