CHICK, D.D. 



called. Now, when a person has ^^D.D/^ written after 

 his name, we have a right to think that he is trying to 

 live so wisely that he can teach us how to be happier, 

 too. Of course Minister Chick had not earned those 

 letters by studying in college, like most parsons; but he 

 had learned the secret of a happy heart in his school 

 in the woods. 



Yes, he began his service by singing his name; but 

 the real sermon he preached by the deeds he did and 

 the life he lived. So, while we listen to his happy song, 

 we can watch his busy hours, until we are acquainted 

 with the little black-capped minister who called himself 

 ^' Chick, D.D.'' 



Chick's Christmas-trees were decorated, and no house 

 in the whole world had one lovelier that morning than 

 the hundreds that were all about him as far as he could 

 see. The dark-green branches of the pines and cedars 

 had held themselves out like arms waiting to be filled, 

 and the snow had been dropped on them in fluffy 

 masses, by a quiet, windless storm. It had been very 

 soft and lovely that way — a world all white and green 

 below, with a sky of wonderful blue that the firs pointed 

 to like steeples. Then, as if that were not decoration 

 enough, another storm had come, and had put on the 

 glitter that was brightest at the edge of the forest where 

 the sun shone on it. The second storm had covered 



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