The Childrens Book of Christmas Stories | Page 2

and warm, and dry, and bright a ballroom as you would
desire to see on a winter's night.
In came a fiddler with a music book, and went up to the lofty desk and
made an orchestra of it and tuned like fifty stomach-aches. In came Mrs.
Fezziwig, one vast substantial smile. In came the three Misses Fezziwig,
beaming and lovable. In came the six followers whose hearts they
broke. In came all the young men and women employed in the business.
In came the housemaid with her cousin the baker. In came the cook
with her brother's particular friend the milkman. In came the boy from
over the way, who was suspected of not having board enough from his
master, trying to hide himself behind the girl from next door but one
who was proved to have had her ears pulled by her mistress; in they all
came, anyhow and everyhow. Away they all went, twenty couple at
once; hands half round and back again the other way; down the middle
and up again; round and round in various stages of affectionate
grouping, old top couple always turning up in the wrong place; new top
couple starting off again, as soon as they got there; all top couples at
last, and not a bottom one to help them.

When this result was brought about the fiddler struck up "Sir Roger de
Coverley." Then old Fezziwig stood out to dance with Mrs. Fezziwig.
Top couple, too, with a good stiff piece of work cut out for them; three
or four and twenty pairs of partners; people who were not to be trifled
with; people who would dance and had no notion of walking.
But if they had been thrice as many--oh, four times as many--old
Fezziwig would have been a match for them, and so would Mrs.
Fezziwig. As to her, she was worthy to be his partner in every sense of
the term. If that's not high praise, tell me higher and I'll use it. A
positive light appeared to issue from Fezziwig's calves. They shone in
every part of the dance like moons. You couldn't have predicted at any
given time what would become of them next. And when old Fezziwig
and Mrs. Fezziwig had gone all through the dance, advance and retire;
both hands to your partner, bow and courtesy, corkscrew, thread the
needle, and back again to your place; Fezziwig "cut"--cut so deftly that
he appeared to wink with his legs, and came upon his feet again with a
stagger.
When the clock struck eleven the domestic ball broke up. Mr. and Mrs.
Fezziwig took their stations, one on either side of the door, and shaking
hands with every person individually, as he or she went out, wished
him or her a Merry Christmas!

II. THE FIR-TREE*
*Reprinted by permission of the Houghton-Mifflin Company.
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN
Out in the woods stood a nice little Fir-tree. The place he had was a
very good one; the sun shone on him; as to fresh air, there was enough
of that, and round him grew many large-sized comrades, pines as well
as firs. But the little Fir wanted so very much to be a grown-up tree.
He did not think of the warm sun and of the fresh air; he did not care
for the little cottage children that ran about and prattled when they were

in the woods looking for wild strawberries. The children often came
with a whole pitcher full of berries, or a long row of them threaded on a
straw, and sat down near the young tree and said, "Oh, how pretty he is!
what a nice little fir!" But this was what the Tree could not bear to hear.
At the end of a year he had shot up a good deal, and after another year
he was another long bit taller; for with fir-trees one can always tell by
the shoots how many years old they are.
"Oh, were I but such a high tree as the others are!" sighed he. "Then I
should be able to spread out my branches, and with the tops to look into
the wide world! Then would the birds build nests among my branches;
and when there was a breeze, I could bend with as much stateliness as
the others!"
Neither the sunbeams, nor the birds, nor the red clouds, which morning
and evening sailed above them, gave the little Tree any pleasure.
In winter, when the snow lay glittering on the ground, a hare would
often come leaping along, and jump right over the little Tree. Oh, that
made him so angry! But two winters were past, and in the third the tree
was so large that the hare was obliged to go round it. "To