Christmas morning came at last. Very early the boys crept out of bed,
just to "feel" their stockings.
Papa heard them, and, remembering that he was once a boy lighted the
gas.
Each little red stocking was full from toe to top. Boxes and paper
parcels were piled around them. Such shouting! Such a good time! It
seemed as if all their letters had been answered.
Suddenly Jamie cried, "O Ted, here's a letter!"
They put their little heads together, and with papa's help spelled
this out:--
"My dear Boys,--No sled this year. It quarrelled so I was
afraid to bring it. I dropped it off the load about a week
ago. Get ready for it next year. Merry Christmas! SANTA
CLAUS."
A RAGGED CHRISTMAS FEAST.
On Christmas day there is a great feast in Dublin. This, you know, is
the chief city of Ireland. The feast is made for the children. There
are in that city a great many little ones who are very very poor.
There are kind people there, also, who look after these poor children.
They have what they call "ragged schools," where many of them are
taught to read, and to sew, and other useful things.
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