A Merry Christmas by Louisa May Alcott

miracle. Mr. Chrome acted more like a father of a large family than a crusty bachelor. Miss Kent’s skillful fingers flew as they never did before, and Mrs. Smith trotted up and down as briskly as if she were sixteen instead of being a stout, elderly woman of seventy.
    The children were so full of the play and telling about it that they forgot their tree till after supper, but when they went to look for it, they found it gone and in its place a great paper hand with one finger pointing downstairs, and on it these mysterious words in red: “Look in the Browns’ back parlor!”
    At the door of that interesting apartment they found their mother with Will and Petkin, for another hand had suddenly appeared to them pointing up. The door flew open quite as if it were a fairy play, and they went in to find a pretty tree planted in a red box on the center table, lighted with candles, hung with gilded nuts, red apples, gay bonbons, and a gift for each child.
    Mr. Chrome was hidden behind one folding door, and stout Mrs. Smith squeezed behind the other, and they both thought it a great improvement upon an old-fashioned Santa Claus to have Miss Kent, in her new white dress, with Mrs. Blake’s roses in her hair, step forward as the children gazed in silent rapture, and with a few sweet words welcome them to surprises their friends had made.
    There were many Christmas trees in the city that night, but none that gave such hearty pleasures as the one which so magically took the place of the broken branch and its few poor toys. They were all there, however, and Dolly and Grace were immensely pleased to see that, of all their gifts, Petkin chose the forlorn bird to carry to bed with her, the one yellow feather being just to her taste.
    Mrs. Blake put on her neat bonnet and was so gratified that Miss Kent thought it the most successful one she ever trimmed. She was well paid for it by the thanks of one neighbor and the admiration of another; for when she went to her party, Mr. Chrome went with her and said something on the way which made her heart dance more lightly than her feet that night.
    Good Mrs. Smith felt that her house had covered itself with glory by this event, and Dolly and Grace declared that it was the most perfect and delightful surprise party ever seen.
    It was all over by nine o’clock and with good night kisses for everyone, the little girls climbed up to bed laden with treasures and too happy for many words. But as they tied their round caps Dolly said, thoughtfully: “On the whole, I think it’s rather nice to be poor when people are kind to you.”
    â€œWell, I’d rather be rich, but if I can’t be, it is very good fun to have Christmas trees like this one,” answered Grace truthfully, never guessing that they had planted the seed from which the little pine tree grew so quickly and beautifully.
    When the moon came to look in at the window on her nightly round, two smiling faces lay on the pillow, which was no longer wet with tears, but rather knobby with the mine of riches hidden underneath—firstfruits of the neighborly friendship which flourished in that house until another and a merrier Christmas came.

Rosa’s Tale
    â€œN OW, I BELIEVE EVERYONE HAS HAD A Christmas present and a good time. Nobody has been forgotten, not even the cat,” said Mrs. Ward to her daughter, as she looked at Pobbylinda, purring on the rug, with a new ribbon round her neck and the remains of a chicken bone between her paws.
    It was very late, for the Christmas tree was decorated, the little folks in bed, the baskets and bundles left at poor neighbors’ doors, and everything ready for the happy day which would begin as the clock struck twelve. They were resting after their mother’s words reminded Belinda of one good friend who had received no gift that night.
    â€œWe’ve forgotten Rosa! Her mistress is away, but she shall have a present nevertheless. As late as it is, I