“Though I won’t tell him to-night,” decided the unselfish little fellow, “not to spoil his first night. I shan’t mind when I know he’s in his cot beside me.” And even when Lawson asked him if anything were the matter, he kept to his resolution. But he awoke in the middle of the night from a terrible dream; Lawson awoke too, and then—out it all came. “I thought she was coming in at the window,” Roger ended. “If—if you look out—it’s moonlight—I think _p’r’aps_ you’ll see where she stands. But no, no; don’t—_don’t_; she might see you.” So Lawson agreed to wait till to-morrow. “You go to sleep,” he said. “_I’m_ here, and you can say your prayers again if you like.” Lawson was up very early next morning. When breakfast was over he told Roger to come out with him. Down the Primrose Lane they went, in spite of Roger’s trembling. “Now, shut your eyes,” said Lawson, when they got to the gate. He opened it, and led his brother through. “Look, now!” he said, with a merry laugh. And what do you think Roger saw? An old scarecrow, forgotten since last year. There she stood, the “Snow Witch”—an apron and ragged shawl, two sticks for arms, a bit of Grandpapa’s hat to crown all—that was the witch! “Shake hands with her, Roger,” said Lawson. And shake hands they both did, till the old scarecrow tumbled to pieces, never more to frighten either birds or little boys. “Dear Lawson,” said Roger lovingly, as he held up his little face for a kiss. And happy, indeed, were the rest of the Christmas holidays. _L. Molesworth._ THE CHRISTMAS TREE PUNCH. “YOU mustn’t go into the dining-room, children,” said Mother, popping her head in at the school-room door. “All right, Mother!” Jack and Dorothy and Eva called after her, but Jim didn’t say anything. He was the naughty boy of the family, and went by the name of “Jim the Terrible,” and I am afraid he very often deserved his name. When the others went to say good night to Mother, Jim paused outside the dining-room door; it was open just the least little bit in the world, and he peeped in and saw a wonderful tree, standing in the middle of the room, laden with toys. Right at the top hung a Punch doll, dressed in satin and tinsel, and he shone and glittered so that Jim could see him better than the other toys. But his Mother called to him, so he could not wait to examine the tree more closely. When the children were in bed Jim made up his mind to lie awake, and as soon as the others were asleep, he stole softly downstairs to have another look at the Christmas-tree. The room was a blaze of light now, and the Punch doll at the top shook his staff at Jim as soon as he entered. “Oh! you naughty boy,” he cried. “You Terrible Jim. What do you mean by coming here when your Mother told you not to go near the dining-room! I’ll teach you to disobey! Oh—o—o—o—! Go to bed! go to bed!”