An old lady lived on a hill.

She was very small, and she always wore a black dress and a large white apron with big bows behind.

On her head she wore the queerest little red bonnet that you ever saw.

The little old lady grew very selfish as the years went by. People said this was because she thought of no one but herself.

One morning as she was baking cakes, a tired, hungry old man came up to her door.

“My good woman,” said he, “will you give me one of your cakes? I am very hungry. I have no money, but whatever you first wish for you shall have.”

The old lady looked at her cakes and thought that they were too large to give away. So she broke off a small bit of dough and put it into the oven to bake.

When it was done she thought that this one was too nice and brown for a beggar. So she baked a smaller cake, and then a still smaller one, but each came out of the oven as nice and as brown as the first.

At last she took a piece of dough as small as the head of a pin. Even this, when it was baked, was as large and as fine as the others. So the old lady put all the cakes on the shelf and offered the old man a crust of dry bread.

The old man only looked at her, and before the old lady could wink, he was gone.

The old lady thought a great deal about what she had done. She knew it was very wrong.

“I wish I were a bird,” she said; “I would fly to him with the largest cake I have.”

As she spoke, she felt herself growing smaller and smaller. Suddenly the wind picked her up and carried her up the chimney.

When she came out she still had on her red bonnet and black dress. You could see her white apron with the big bows. But she was a bird, just as she had wished to be.

She was a wise bird, and at once she began to pick her food out of the hard wood of a tree. As people saw her at work, they called her the red-headed woodpecker.

Baby Bunting was ten months old before she had a Christmas. When the first Christmas came, she didn’t know what it meant. When she saw the tree all covered with candles and apples and little baskets of candy, she smiled, and then laughed, and then crowed out loud. She shook her fat hands at the pretty sight, while Father and Mother and Sister Nora danced around her baby carriage.

Then they began to take the presents off the tree. There was a fine clock for Mother and a pair of slippers for Father. Sister Nora had a beautiful doll.

Baby Bunting herself had a warm little muff, some dainty socks, a pair of baby shoes, some picture books, and so many presents besides that it would take too long to tell about them all.

Sister Nora was happy with her big wax doll. She named her Sally Bunting, and brought her to the carriage to make a call on her sister Baby Bunting.

Baby was so pleased at this, that she almost talked. It seemed to Nora as if she really did talk to Sally. Perhaps Sally, the baby doll, could hear this talk better than anyone else.

I am sure Baby Bunting was saying that this was the best Christmas she had seen in ten months.

—Adapted

The Sun was up.

The sky in the east had told that he was on the way, for it had turned red and gold as he came near. He looked down on the earth, and there was a new day. So he sent out his beams to wake everybody from sleep.

A beam came to the little birds in the trees, and they rose at once. They flew about, singing as loudly as they could.

Then a beam came and waked the rabbit. He gave his eyes a rub and ran out into the green field to eat grass.

Another beam came into the hen-house. The rooster flapped his wings and crowed. The hens flew into the yard to see what they could find to eat.

A beam came to the beehive. A bee came out of the hive. He flew off to the fields to drink honey from the flowers.

The beam that came to Johnny’s bed awakened Johnny, but the boy would not get up. He went to sleep once more, though all the animals were up, and hard at work.—Adapted

A long time ago, there lived a wonderful king. Each day this king came in his golden chariot, bringing light, heat, and happiness to all the people.

Each day he passed from his palace in the east to his throne in the west. He never missed a day, for he wanted to make sure that everyone had a share of his gifts.

For everybody, he had the birds sing and the flowers bloom. For everybody, he showed beautiful pictures, which changed every hour.

The king had many beautiful daughters. They were often called swan maidens, because they rode upon beautiful white swans.

When the swan maidens were with their father they wore soft white or gray dresses.

Sometimes the king saw that the grass was brown, or the buds were not coming out. Then he said, “Swan maidens, who will go and work to-day?”

Almost before he was through speaking, many of them had rushed away. Sometimes more of them came than could work upon the grass and buds.

Then some of them ran off to play. But the best of them went down to feed the roots and the worms. They worked out of sight.

But they always went back to their father, the king.

Now it is very hard work to catch a swan maiden on her way back home.

A boy is sure he saw one of them on a ring in the tea-kettle steam. How many of them get away is a secret.

When the king saw the flowers shiver in the fall, he called the bravest swan maidens to him. He told them that they must go away for a long time.

Then each swan maiden put on a beautiful white dress, and came softly down, down to earth, with a warm blanket.

These blankets they spread over the flowers and seeds. Every little flower went to sleep under the blanket.

At last the king smiled, and their work was done. They slipped away home so softly that nobody missed them, but the boys and girls who loved the snow.

—Adapted