Do jump up and look out at the trees," said Susan, one morning in December, to little Mary, "they are so beautiful; all sparkling like silver!"

"It seems very cold," said Mary, rather sleepily. "Will you draw up the blind, Susan, that I may see out?"

Susan drew up the blind.

"O," cried Mary, "how lovely the window looks! I see fairy palaces, and wreaths of flowers, and numbers of birds, and bright butterflies! O, and look at those angels, flying with white wings spread, and below them there is a lovely lake! Look, Susan, do you see what I mean?"

"I don't see that so plain," replied Susan; "but I see a pretty cottage just there, in the corner of this pane."

"O, yes!" said Mary; "and look, there is a high mountain behind it, and a forest of tall fir-trees growing all up the sides, and there is a river running along before it, with pretty flowers like stars on its banks. O, and little fairies dancing among them! Now it all sparkles like diamonds and rubies! Beautiful, beautiful!" cried Mary, jumping out of bed. The sun had just risen, and his beams, tinged with red, shone on little Mary's frosted window, and gave it this beautiful appearance.

"But it is much too cold to stand looking at it, dear," said Susan; "make haste, and let us get you down to the warm parlor fire."

Splash went Mary into her bath, and made all the haste possible; and while she was dressing, the window was a continual pleasure; for as the sun shone on the glass, small portions of the frost-work melted away, and let the bright rays shine through; and first these clear spots looked like little shining stars on the fairies' foreheads; then like stars in the sky; then they changed into pretty ponds in a wood; then into lakes with rocky banks; the angels seemed to fly farther away; the wreath of flowers took different forms; the fairies danced off with the birds and butterflies; and at last, just as the largest lake had become so large that Mary thought it must be the sea, it was time to go down stairs.

The parlor looked so very comfortable and felt so warm. There was a bright fire; Bouncer was stretched on the rug; the kettle boiled on the hob; breakfast was laid; the sun shone in at the lattice window. And now Mary, looking out into the garden, remembered what Susan had said about the trees, for they did indeed look beautiful. Every branch and every twig was incrusted over with crystals of white frost; they no longer appeared like common trees; no wood was to be seen; they seemed to have been changed by some fairy in the night into silver, and sprinkled with diamonds. The laurels and other evergreens had all their leaves covered and fringed round the edges with the same silvery, sparkling frost-work. The ivy-leaves near the window looked the best of all; their dark green color seemed to make the jewels shine more brightly, and then their pretty forms were shown off by all this ornament. As Mary was fancying herself in some fairy palace, or in Aladdin's garden, and wondering whether there was any fruit made of precious stones hanging on the trees, her papa and mamma came down to breakfast, and they all enjoyed the sight together. Mary's pretty cousin, Chrissy, who had been May-Queen on the first of May, was on a visit at the cottage, and when she came down, she was delighted too with the beautiful sight, and thought the branches like white coral tipped with diamonds.

While they were at breakfast, Mary asked the question which she had asked for several mornings past. It was, "Do you think Aunt Mary, and Thomas, and Willie will come to-day?"

"I think it quite possible that they may," said her mamma; "but to-morrow is more likely."

"You had better try not to expect them till to-morrow, Mary," said Chrissy.

"I will try," said Mary, "but I think I do expect them to-day. And now let me think how many days it is before Christmas Eve will come. Yesterday we counted it was eleven days, so to-day it is ten. Still ten days."

"But you know, Mary, we have plenty to do first," said her mamma. Mary nodded and smiled.

Christmas Eve was the day they kept at the cottage; because Mary's papa and mamma always spent Christmas Day with grandmamma. She lived in a large old house, in a country town ten miles off. Everything in her house was clean and shining; the rooms smelt very sweet, and grandmamma was very kind, and let the children do whatever they liked; and her two maids were so good-natured, and petted them; and there were always such nice cakes, oranges, and jellies. Then, in the evenings there was sure to be a magic lantern, or a man to play the fiddle; in short, going to grandmamma's was a very great pleasure.

Mary now asked her papa to come down to the pond, and give her another lesson in sliding. He came out, and as they ran along they found numbers of things to admire. Every blade of grass was fringed with the white frost-work, and the leaves of all the weeds that grew near the hedges looked quite pretty with their new trimming. But, above all, the mosses in the little wood that skirted the field were most lovely. When winter strips the trees of their leaves, then the little bright green mosses come and clothe the roots and stems, as if to do all they can to comfort them; and to-day they were sparkling all over, and seemed to be dressed out for some festival. Mary and her papa stopped before a weeping birch-tree, with the green moss growing on its silvery white stem. After admiring it for some time, they looked up at its branches that hung drooping over their heads. "How light and feathery they look," said Mary. "I think they are quite as ............