"Major! Major! Major! An English steamer is at anchor in the cove, and is sending her boat ashore." Tom and Laura rushed to the window; the snow was all over now, and they could see the monster lying within half a mile. "Where would they be, Miss Cutts, if somebody had not wound up the lamps at midnight? Guess they said 'Merry Christmas' when they see 'em." And Laura held her breath when she thought what might have been. Tom and Mipples ran down to the beach to hail them, and direct the landing. Tom and Mipples shook the hand of each man as he came ashore, and then Laura could see them hurrying to the house together. Steps on the landing; steps on the stairway,--the door is open, and,--not Tom this time,--but her dear lost brother Jem, in the flesh, and in a heavy pea-coat. "Merry Christmas! Laura!" * * * * * "Laura," said Jem, as they sat at their Christmas dinner, "what do you think I thought of first, when I heard the cable run out so like blazes; when I rushed up and saw your yellow lanterns there?" "How should I know, Jem?" "'They that dwell in the shadow of death, upon them the light hath shined.'" "But I did not think it was you, Laura." CHRISTMAS WAITS IN BOSTON. I. I always give myself a Christmas present. And on this particular year the present was a Carol party,--which is about as good fun, all things consenting kindly, as a man can have. Many things must consent, as will appear. First of all there must be good sleighing,--and second, a fine night for Christmas eve. Ours are not the carollings of your poor shivering little East Angles or South Mercians, where they have to plod round afoot in countries where they do not know what a sleigh-ride is.