"That's a bright idea, my good little wife," said Mr. Hahn smiling his approval. "I believe that we ought to help the boy all that we can, for he's sure having a hard time of it. Do what you think is best, but be careful not to let Mrs. Fischer think you want to help her son, or all your plans will be upset. She doesn't care what becomes of the boy, and I think she would be glad to see him die, but doesn't dare to be the one to end his life. But she'll do it if she keeps on as she is going." "Well, with your consent I'll do what I can," replied Mrs. Hahn, and with a relieved expression she hastened to make some plans that were to amount very much to Edwin. Mrs. Fischer graciously consented to let her son go to help the old couple now and then, "but," she added, "you'll soon find that he's no good to anybody. I find him lots more bother than he's worth." "I'll risk that part of it," Mrs. Hahn answered, and from that day a great change came into the poor boy's life. In the home of Mr. and Mrs. Hahn, Edwin was still very timid, but they were so kind and considerate that his intense fear gradually gave way to confidence and trust. It seemed that his new friends were never vexed because of his extreme ignorance. Instead of reproaching him for what he did not know or understand, they took extra pains to explain their meaning in the simplest language possible. To Edwin the explanation of the most trifling every-day occurrences seemed wonderful, and to the unenlightened child it opened up many avenues for thought that had hitherto been closed. Never once while he was with them did they seem to grow weary of trying to make things more simple and plain for the inquiring child. The more Edwin associated with these friends, the more he began to understand how he had been wronged; for many questions concerning the earth, the sky, and himself were corrected. In explaining about St. Nick, Mr. Hahn said: "Edwin, that terrible creature that treated you so shamefully on Christmas eve was not St. Nicholas at all. It was your uncle, who had, with the consent of your mother, dressed himself in the hideous clothing in which he appeared to you. He must have wanted to see just how much he could deceive and frighten you." "But how about his home in Blue Mountain?" Edwin asked in amazement. "If Santa Claus doesn't make the toys up there, where does he make them?" "Edwin, don't you believe those stories any longer," Mr. Hahn answered. "Your uncle bought from a store in the city of M----all those presents that he gave to his children. The stories that he told you about the elves visiting the homes to discover who were bad are untrue. I know it seems very strange to you, but what is the most difficult for me to understand is how your mother and uncle could find pleasure in frightening and deceiving you in such a way. "Well, if Blue Mountain isn't the home of St. Nick, what is it?" Edwin asked in a mystified tone.