BIRD STORIES 



CHICK, D.D. 



Right in the very heart of Christmas-tree Land there 

 was a forest of firs that pointed to the sky as straight as 

 steeples. A hush lay over the forest, as if there were 

 something very wonderful there, that might be meant 

 for you if you were quiet and waited for it to come. Per- 

 haps you have felt like that when you walked down the 

 aisle of a church, with the sun shining through the lovely 

 glass in the windows. Men have often called the woods 

 'Hemples"; so there is, after all, nothing so very strange 

 in having a preacher live in the midst of the fir forest 

 that grew in Christmas-tree Land. 



And the sermon itself was not very strange, for it was 

 about peace and good-will and love and helping the 

 world and being happy — all very proper things to hear 

 about while the bells in the city churches, way, way off, 

 were ringing their glad messages from the steeples. 



But the minister was a queer one, and his very first 

 words would have made you smile. Not that you would 

 have laughed at him, you know. You would have 



