The Goat and Her Kid | Page 6

to make the jewels shine more brightly, and then their pretty forms were shown off by all this ornament. As Mary was fancying herself in some fairy palace, or in Aladdin's garden, and wondering whether there was any fruit made of precious stones hanging on the trees, her papa and mamma came down to breakfast, and they all enjoyed the sight together. Mary's pretty cousin, Chrissy, who had been May-Queen on the first of May, was on a visit at the cottage, and when she came down, she was delighted too with the beautiful sight, and thought the branches like white coral tipped with diamonds.
While they were at breakfast, Mary asked the question which she had asked for several mornings past. It was, "Do you think Aunt Mary, and Thomas, and Willie will come to-day?"
"I think it quite possible that they may," said her mamma; "but to-morrow is more likely."
"You had better try not to expect them till to-morrow, Mary," said Chrissy.
"I will try," said Mary, "but I think I do expect them to-day. And now let me think how many days it is before Christmas Eve will come. Yesterday we counted it was eleven days, so to-day it is ten. Still ten days."
"But you know, Mary, we have plenty to do first," said her mamma. Mary nodded and smiled.
Christmas Eve was the day they kept at the cottage; because Mary's papa and mamma always spent Christmas Day with grandmamma. She lived in a large old house, in a country town ten miles off. Everything in her house was clean and shining; the rooms smelt very sweet, and grandmamma was very kind, and let the children do whatever they liked; and her two maids were so good-natured, and petted them; and there were always such nice cakes, oranges, and jellies. Then, in the evenings there was sure to be a magic lantern, or a man to play the fiddle; in short, going to grandmamma's was a very great pleasure.
Mary now asked her papa to come down to the pond, and give her another lesson in sliding. He came out, and as they ran along they found numbers of things to admire. Every blade of grass was fringed with the white frost-work, and the leaves of all the weeds that grew near the hedges looked quite pretty with their new trimming. But, above all, the mosses in the little wood that skirted the field were most lovely. When winter strips the trees of their leaves, then the little bright green mosses come and clothe the roots and stems, as if to do all they can to comfort them; and to-day they were sparkling all over, and seemed to be dressed out for some festival. Mary and her papa stopped before a weeping birch-tree, with the green moss growing on its silvery white stem. After admiring it for some time, they looked up at its branches that hung drooping over their heads. "How light and feathery they look," said Mary. "I think they are quite as pretty as in summer."
"I think so too," said her papa. "I even think the birch more beautiful in winter than in summer; and all the trees show us the grandeur and beauty of their forms more when the leaves are gone. Look at their great sweeping branches."
"Yes," said Mary, "and then all the little twigs look so pretty, and like lace-work."
"And more than ever we must admire them," said her papa, "when we think that in every little bud at their tips lie the young leaves folded in, and safely shielded by this brown covering from the cold; but all ready to burst forth when the soft spring air and sunshine tell them it is time."
Mary was delighted at this thought, and they spent a little while looking at the different buds, particularly those of the chestnut-trees, with their shining brown coats. Mary took great care not to break one off; she said, "It would be such a pity the little leaves should not feel the spring air, and come out in the sunshine."
"But, O Chrissy, what a lovely bunch of jewelled leaves you have collected!" cried she. "O, yes, that branch in the middle will look pretty; it has managed to go on looking like coral, and to keep its diamonds, because it was so shaded. Now you will put the brown oak leaves, all shining. Here are some more; do put these; and then the pretty little brown beech leaves glittering all over. It looks beautiful!"
"How pretty the form of the oak leaves is," said Chrissy.
"Now let us take it in to mamma," cried Mary.
"But, remember," said Chrissy, "if we take it in all its charm will vanish. Here in the frosty air it looks as if it had been dressed up by the