Christmas this year brought glad tidings. There arrived a big box from his “good aunt” out of the town, a sister of his mother’s, with all sorts of beautiful and useful things: books, linen for his brothers’ shirts, little frocks for his sisters, and for himself a velvet coat--a real velvet coat, with military braidings and big shining buttons. That was a delight. But the most beautiful Christmas-box was contained in the letter, which his mother read aloud with tears of emotion. The good aunt wrote that she had seen from Elsbeth’s last letters that it was her husband’s dearest wish to be able to give a better education to his two eldest boys, and that in consequence she had decided to receive them in her own house, and to let them go to college at her expense. His brothers shouted with joy, his mother cried, his father walked up and down the room, passed his hand through his hair, and muttered excited words. He meanwhile sat quietly at his sisters’ little bed, rejoicing inwardly. Then his mother came to him, buried her face in his hair, and said, “Will _you_ ever have such luck, my boy?” “Oh, he,” said his father--“he never understands anything!” “He is so young still!” answered his mother, stroking his cheeks; and then she dressed him in his beautiful velvet coat, and he was allowed to wear it till night because it was a holiday. And his brothers came and fondled him, partly because their hearts were so full of joy, partly on account of the beautiful velvet coat. They had never been so good to him before. Ah, that was a Christmas! And as spring drew near a great deal of sewing and embroidering for the outfit began. Paul was allowed to help with the cutting-out: to hold the yard-measure and to hand the scissors; and the twins lay on the ground, rummaging among the white linen. The brothers were fitted out like two princes. Nothing was forgotten. They even received neckties, which his mother had manufactured from an old silk bodice. The brothers meanwhile were immensely proud. They already played at being gentlemen in every possible way. Max rolled cigarettes by putting the tobacco from his father’s canister into little paper bags, which he lighted at the thick end, and Gottfried put on a pair of spectacles, which he had purchased at school for six trouser buttons. “Does this suit me?” he asked, strutting up and down before Paul, and as the latter said “Yes,” he was caressed; had he said “No,” he would have had a box on the ear. Soon after Easter the two brothers went away. There was much weeping in the house, but when the dog-cart had rolled out of the yard gate his mother pressed her tear-stained face against Paul’s cheeks and whispered, “You have long been neglected, my poor child; now we two are together again as before.” “Mamma, tiss me, too!” screamed little Kate, stretching out her tiny arms, and her sister did the same.