What an amazing chance had come to him! Do you wonder that he trembled and stammered? But, after all, I don’t know that he was any happier than Ralph Westwood, who hovered about him in great satisfaction, and in one of the pauses of his duties as assistant host, found a chance to murmur, “I say, Charlie, aren’t you rather glad the six o’clock freight was late, that night?” PANSY. A HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO YOU! A HAPPY Christmas to you! For the Light of Life is born, And his coming is the sunshine Of the dark and wintry morn. The grandest Orient glow must pale, The loveliest Western gleam must fail, But his great Light, So full, so bright, Ariseth for thy heart to-day, His shadow-conquering beams shall never pass away. A happy Christmas to you! For the Prince of peace is come, And his reign is full of blessings, Their very crown and sum. No earthly calm can ever last. ’Tis but the lull before the blast: But his great peace Shall still increase In mighty, all rejoicing sway; His kingdom in thy heart can never pass away. FRANCES RIDLEY HAVERGAL. ARCHIE’S CHRISTMAS GIFT. TWENTY-ONE, two, three, four and five! Just a quarter, sure’s I’m alive! And that will buy the funniest doll, Rubber and worsted, for Baby Moll. That takes all of my ready cash, And breaks my bank all into smash; You little tin bank, you’re never full; I can’t work much nights after school. [Illustration: ARCHIE.] These days are so short the light don’t last, And Christmas is coming so fast, so fast! I won’t ask father to give me a cent; He works too hard for bread and rent, But mother must have a Christmas gift; O dear! who’ll give a fellow a lift? Dear mamma! her hair is pretty and brown, And her smile so sweet, with never a frown. I’ll get her something, I will! I will! But how’ll I get it’s the question still. I know!—I’ve got such a splendid plan; ’Tis good enough for a grown-up man. I think my present will be just grand; ’Tis this: I’ll write, in my nicest hand, A pledge that liquor I’ll never drink; That I’ll never swear—and then I think I’ll write that tobacco I’ll never use, In tobacco pipes or tobacco chews. I’ll get an envelope, clean and white, And on it mamma’s name I’ll write. And I’ll copy it out so nice and fair, And sign my name at the bottom there: “Archibald Spinner!” O what a name! But Grandpa wears it, and ’tis no shame. “Archibald!” Mamma will like it so. “Archie!” she says when I’m good, I know, But I think ’twill please her—I know it will! Her dear brown eyes with tears will fill, But behind the tears there will be for me The happy twinkle I love to see. So, “Archibald Spinner,” the road is long, You must make your mind up good and strong