A Merry Christmas by Louisa May Alcott Page A

girl’s innocent hopes, fears, desires, and delights, and it had been rather hard to stand by while all the young neighbors were frolicking together.
    When everyone was gone, the tired children asleep, and the elders on their way up to bed, Mrs. Murray suddenly remembered she had not covered the kitchen fire. Aunt Jane said she would do it, and went down so softly that she did not disturb faithful Patty, who had also gone to see that all was safe.
    Aunt Jane stopped to watch the little figure standing on the hearth alone, looking into the embers with thoughtful eyes. If Patty could have seen her future there, she would have found a long life spent in glad service to those she loved and who loved her. Not a splendid future, but a useful, happy one—“only a servant” perhaps, yet a good and faithful woman, blessed with the confidence, respect, and affection of those who knew her genuine worth.
    As a smile broke over Patty’s face, Miss Jane said with an arm round the little blue-gowned figure—
    â€œWhat are you dreaming and smiling about, deary? The friends that are to come for you someday, with a fine fortune in their pockets?”
    â€œNo, Ma’am, I feel as if I’ve found my folks. I don’t want any finer fortune than the love they’ve given me today. I’m trying to think how I can deserve it, and smiling because it’s so beautiful and I’m so happy,” answered Patty, looking up at her first friend with full eyes and a glad glance that made her lovely.

Tilly’s Christmas
    â€œI ’M SO GLAD TOMORROW IS CHRISTMAS because I’m going to have lots of presents,” said Kate, glowing with anticipation.
    â€œI’m glad as well,” Bessy chimed, “though I don’t expect any presents but a pair of mittens.”
    It was Tilly’s turn to speak, and she startled them with her words, “I’m very glad tomorrow is Christmas, even though I shan’t have any presents at all.”
    These sentiments were spoken as the three little girls trudged home from school, and Tilly’s words struck a cord of pity in the others. Kate and Bessy wondered how she could speak so cheerfully and be so happy when she was too poor to receive even the smallest of gifts on Christmas Day.
    â€œDon’t you wish you could find a purse full of money right here in the path?” asked Kate, the child who was going to have lots of presents.
    â€œOh, don’t I! If I could keep it honestly, that is,” said Tilly, her eyes glowing at the prospect.
    â€œWhat would you buy?” asked Bessy, rubbing her cold hands and longing for her mittens.
    â€œI’ve worked it all out in my mind,” Tilly responded. “I’d buy a pair of large, warm blankets, a load of wood, a shawl for mother, and a pair of shoes for me. If there was enough left, I’d give Bessy a new hat so that she would not have to wear Ben’s old felt one.”
    The girls giggled at that, but Bessy pulled the funny hat down over her ears and said she was much obliged but she would rather have candy.
    â€œLet’s look, and maybe we can find a purse. People are always going about with money at Christmastime. How do we know someone has not lost it here on this path?” said Kate.
    So the three little girls went along the snowy road, looking about them, half in earnest, half in fun. Suddenly, Tilly sprang forward, exclaiming loudly, “I see it! I’ve found a purse!”
    Kate and Bessy followed quickly, but sputtered with disappointment as they realized that there was no purse lying in the snow but only a little bird. It lay upon the snow with its wings spread and feebly fluttered, too weak to fly. Its little feet were benumbed with cold and its once bright eyes were dull with pain. Instead of a chipper song, it could only utter a faint chirp now and then as if pleading for help.
    â€œNothing but a stupid old robin. How maddening!” cried Kate,