which was hidden day and night in her heart, 
But all that was over now. Ho had been proven 
false—untrue! Another, who would not tell an 
untruth, hud told her so, and she had listened 
to words which her lover had repeated to 
others—which crimsoned her face with wound¬ 
ed pride and xnortiQoutlon. What wonder that 
she cast him off uud refused to hear his feeble 
explanations! So the gifts were put away and 
the picture destroyed ere the tired girl sought 
her bod, aud thus all the sweet visions of her 
heart were forever dispelled. 
All this Ednii dreamed whilealeeplng besldo 
her brother. And when the grey dawn awoke 
her to another day of weariness, she arose hag¬ 
gard and unfreshed, for having passed again 
through the sorrow which four years ago had 
left a wound In her heart as yet unhealed by 
time. She had never seen her lover since; but, 
with bitter tears, scarce a year after their bro¬ 
ken engagement, had learned how eutlrcly 
untrue aud wicked bad been the report against 
him, to which her proud heart had too hastily 
listened. Ah, well I—she had brought the 
trouble upon herself, and ns slio had sown so 
must she reap. And I bus days, mouths, and 
the three years since hor mother’s death, had 
passed heavily, and KniTii struggled to live In 
the midst of plenty. Her fortunato engage¬ 
ment, a week previous to our Introduction to 
her, with Miss Rachel as dressmaker, had made 
a few spots of sunshine for tho young girl, and 
she was grateful totboktnd maiden lady whoso 
heart and hands were always trying to do good. 
It was the day before Christmas, arid all tho 
world seemed to be filling the streets In search 
Edith 
days, and In her dream sho saw two standing 
side by side In a uicely-furnished room— 
a girl of seventeen years, a young man of twen¬ 
ty. Tbero was a world of trouble In the faceof 
tiio latter, and his dark eyes were eloquent 
with love for his companion. Her face was 
proud, scornfully so, aud her eyes were turned 
away from 1 he haudBotne dark face beside her. 
“Will you really elve mo up, dear?" the 
young man asked; “ will you really give me up 
for au idle report that has no shadow of truth 
in It? 01 Edith, darliug! listen to me lirstl” 
to Edith and pressed a kiss upon the pale, 
young cheek now wet with tears. “ He didu t 
mean to wound you, my dear,“ she said; “but 
children know very little about the hardships 
of this life. They are my youngest sister's 
children, and 1 am foolish enough to spoil 
them whenever they come hero. They know 
I’m an ‘old maid,’ as ARTHUR is saucy enough 
to call me, and they know that. I’ve no one 
else to love cxeop: their mother and her hoys. 
Ghe has another. Wit.LAUD, who wont to sea 
four years ago. Ilo lies been home but once, 
WHEN YOU’RE DOWN, 
What legions of friends always bless us, 
Whoa golden success lights our wav! 
H jw thoy sa Is r.s they softly address us. 
So cordial, good-natured and gny! 
But.. oh. when tho sun of prosperity 
Has set, then bow quickly they frown. 
And cry out In tones of severity. 
Kick the man—don’t you see ho Is down ? 
What though, when you know not a sorrow. 
Tour heart was as open as day. 
And your friends, when they wanted to borrow, 
You’d obligo, uud r.o’cr uik theta to pay ; 
What though not a soul you e’er slighted. 
As you wandered about through tho town. 
Your friends become very near-sighted, 
And don’t scorn to sec you when down. 
When rou’ie up. you’re loudly exalted. 
And traders all sing out your pruiso t 
When you’re down you have greatly defaulted. 
And they really don’t fancy your ways.” 
Your stylo w is tip-top when you’d money. 
of presents for tho following glad day 
had tlnlshod her work for Miss Eachel some 
days previous, ami hud found nothing more to 
do since. Aud now sho stood at. her window, 
holding her brother’s t l.ln hand, at d ready to 
cry with grief that Ms Christmas morn should 
differ so little from other cheerless mornings. 
“No presents for us, sister I" the boy murmured 
at last; “but I don’t mind much, If you only 
would look happier." 
“We won’t give up fancying that the Christ 
child will leave an unexpected gift at our door, 
at any rate. He knows wo can’t have a very 
Merry Christmas; but, Wii.lie, wo have each 
other to love, haven’t we, dear?” 
“ Tell me more about Mbs Rachel's little 
funny nephews I” asked Willie, who never 
tired of hearing about them as Edith described 
their merry pranks. “What is their last name, 
slstor?” ho continued. 
"Strange that I really don’t know, Wii.lie, 
for as It huppena I never have asked, and Mies 
Rachel In speaking of heralstor only calls her 
by her first name. But they nro ART HUH and 
Harry, and—didn’t you hear a knock?" 
Tho knock was repeated, this timo loudly, 
and Willie ran to the door. “ Hallo!’’ cried 
avolcowhlcii Edith recognized belonging 
to Harry or Arthur, of whom tho had Just 
been speaking. “It*'to l are you lior brother?" 
“I’m my sister's brother," timidly replied 
Willie, hardly knowing who “her" might be. 
“ Well, you look like her and I guess it's all 
right. Aunt RACnEL- '* 
“ Will you cometfi, dear?" asked Edith, now 
coming forward. nARUY walkod In rather 
bashfully and twirled his cap as he delivered 
the following mossago:—“ Aunt Rachel— now, 
auntie—now—she wants you to come to her 
house to-morrow night—now—'bout tea timo. 
She sent you a note, but I've gono and lost it. 
'Tain’t any matter anyway, 'oause 1 Been her 
write It, and ’sides, she told mo what was in It. 
Shall I— now—shall l say you’re a coming?” 
Edith could not help laughing at this comi¬ 
cal delivery of Miss Rachel’s message, and 
supposing the lady wlshod to aeo her only a 
AUNT RACHEL’S CHRISTMAS GIFTS 
BY MARY D. URINE. 
spectacles woudorlngly. “My dear child, why 
do you «lgh in that pitiful way?" she ques¬ 
tioned, gently. Edith Manning winked hard 
to keep the tears back, but Miss Rachels 
kind words only Increased the young soaro- 
8 tre 33 * desire for n "good cry,” and all the 
winking la tho world would not force back 
again the tours which had already too long 
been pent up within her tired little heart. So 
ghe choked back a few sobs before answering. 
“I didn’t moan that you should hear me, 
madam; but Indeed T couldn't help it.” 
“I supposo not, poor child!" replied Miss 
Rachel, “ but you aro really very t ired, aren’t 
you ? Never mind Unlahlng that dress to-night. 
It la too dark to soo uuy longer." 
“Oh, I muit finish my usual work, MI 33 
Moor.3, and I am quite used to sewing at twi¬ 
light," answered poor little Kdmii, whose thin, 
pole face and slender llngors betrayed indeed 
many a ctrugglo with want and woe for tho 
possession of at bast li'c’a oomforts. 
3 "WOLVES-— (Sec- next page.) 
And the girl only smiled coldly, as if wearied 
with his boy’s play. Then he spoke again. “Do 
you believe In your heart that I said those 
words, Edith?” And she answered, “You 
have heard ray opinion, say no more about It; 
but be kind enough to end a scene as annoyiug 
to me its it must be embarrassing to yourBeif." 
01 the cruel scorn of those wordsl And the 
cruel light of those blue eyes, wherein the lover 
tried iu valutoflnd a rayof kindly feeling. And 
hobowed bis head with agrief that nearly over¬ 
came his manliness. “You did love ino. En¬ 
nui," ho said. “Iain suro of It.I You have 
given mo too many a token of your love for mo 
to willingly forget It all." 
She answered indifferently, ‘‘I do not deny 
that I have done many a foolish thing which, 
if l had been less Impulsive, would never have 
been done. And the words which at times 1 
may have spoken please do mo tho favor to 
forget entirely, glnce I now recall them.” Tho 
young man lifted his head proudly, and his 
dark eyes gazed into hers wlthiiautterablosur- 
prlse, but no word passed his lips. And pres¬ 
ently bo left tho room and the home forever. 
Then, and not till then, did the girl whosecrucl 
words had driven him away, become her natu¬ 
ral self once more. Without one doubt in her 
lessly for tho echo of seeing “Auntie Rachel.” 
“nurrab, Auntio!" cried the hoys, swinging 
the door wide and bursting Into the warm, flre- 
llgbtcdroom. “Hurrah I for Christmas is com¬ 
ing and what are you going to give us?” 
M1s3 Rachel looked at the young Intruders 
with eyes that tried to bo stern, uA she replied, 
“ Nothing but a good, sound spar. Ling to teach 
you manners, you rudo young ones, and to 
punish you for buying that ugly scratch on 
my bedstead. IIow could you fling the door so 
violently against It, Arcnun? " 
"Bolhcr the old bed l” exclaimed the boy, 
removing thoBlingof his dksiespect, however, 
with a kl ,3 which ho know by experience 
Auntie could novel- resist. 
“You have not spoken to Miss Manning, 
boys," sai l Miss R.tcmiL, reprovingly, and in¬ 
stantly tLe dressmaker was saluted after the 
usua i curtesy of s!x and eight years of boyhood. 
Two cold little palms were timidly extended, 
and Edith clasped them lu her slender hand 
tenderly, for she loved children, and her own 
little brother was even now awaiting her In 
the lonely room at homo. What would sho not 
have given to have scon Mm bo warmly clad 
and so full of vigorous health as these little 
follows who stood beforo her? 
“ What are you going to have for Christmas, 
say? " asked Arthur, with boyish bluntness. 
Miss Rachel saw the look of pain In the 
young girl’s face, and answered for her, “Peo¬ 
ple never can tell what their glits Bre to bo, 
Master Inquisitive—don’t you know that ? " 
Then up spake Harry, the younger boy: 
“Well, you're going to have tomctMny, at any 
rate, ain’t you? My mamma always gives me 
lots of things—does your mamma? " 
Edith rose to put on her shawl, but tears 
sparkled lu her blue eyes as she replied. Badly, 
“I have no mother, tuy dear little boy. She 
went away from me three years ago, and little 
brother and I are all alone now." 
“ You trolng to give him a present? ” pursued 
Harry, quite uninovel by Edith’s evident 
distress. And Aunt Rachel, ere the rlrl could 
answer, suddenly marched the talkative young 
gentleman Into another room, whither hl3 
brother Arthur soon followed him. Then, 
with her kind face full of sympathy, she turned 
mind I" said her employer kindly, “some other 
time we will have a nice little talk. Oo home 
now and rest." 
The girl descended the et.alra wearily. Old 
memories were upon her, and she would gladly 
have yielded to her emotions and wept freely. 
But there were long blocks to be walked, and a 
little brother was waiting In the gathering 
gloom of a very uncomfortable room far away 
from acenos of comfort aud gladness; so she 
hastened her stops and went on through the 
storm and cold with her sad thoughts. 
Yes I Christmas was coming! And for four 
years every OhrlBtmaa which came to her had 
been sadder and sadder, she thought. She re¬ 
membered years when Christmas gifts awaited 
her as they would await many a happy girl ere 
long. She recalled the various circumstances 
wbloh had bo altered her life within the past 
four years. The death of her parents, her sub¬ 
sequent distress, until at. last she wub driven to 
her present occupation, wherewith she man¬ 
aged to support her brother and self. He was 
the baby when her'mother died—a puny child 
of three years—and a mother’s last words had 
Implored her sisterly love for the helpless boy. 
How well she had kept her promise the child 
alone knew ; but there had been days when the 
sister would willingly have laid the delicate 
form under the grass to sleep forever, bo dark 
and hopeless seemed the future for them both. 
And now, with theee old memories In her 
heart, the girl went onward through the streets, 
blinded by the storm of wind, until her home 
was reached 
The Jong stairs were climbed at 
Inst, and alone In the desolate room the brother 
and sister clasped each other closely. When 
Willie was at last sleeping, Edith laid her¬ 
self down beside him and dreamed of other 
