Fairy Tales from the German Forests. Margaret Arndt

With dimpled hands And tiny feet! A Baby King: Yet cherubim Veil their bright eyes To look on Him. A mighty King! For God above Has crowned Him Lord And King of Love. Come kneel and pray, Ye children dear, The children's King Is lying here!"

      A glow of warmth and happiness illumined the whole family, and they felt nearer to one another than ever before. The tears actually came into their mother's eyes, when she realised that they had so nearly missed this moment of supreme joy.

      She felt a little ashamed of her presents, and for once in a way suspected herself of having been too sensible. "We are not so very poor after all," she thought. "I might have bought a few toys that would have delighted the children's hearts, and not have cost much money. But now it is too late!"

      But to her surprise, she did not see her presents at all. For each child there was a gingerbread cake with his or her name on it, and then the most lovely surprises—a beautiful doll for Hansi with real eyelashes, fretwork tools for Paul, a doll's kitchen for Gretel, and so on. For every one of the family there was some delightful gift.

      "Thank you, thank you, dear Heinzelmen," said Hansi, clasping her hands in ecstasy.

      There was a big paper parcel addressed to Mrs. Herzchen in a very queer handwriting. She opened it with much excitement, thinking it would contain a silk dress, at least. But lo and behold, all the presents that she had intended for her children, tied together with red tape and a card between, on which this verse was written:

"Useful things

For little folk

Are sensible,

But not a joke."

Signed Himself!

      How the children laughed! and even Mrs. Herzchen laughed too, though she felt silly and a little disappointed. "It is all very well to play tricks on me," she said. "Just look at the Müller children next door. They have plenty of toys and are always sucking sweets; but they never have comfortable, warm clothes on, and they look half fed."

      "Of course, mother, you are right," said the children, "and you were really joking about the tree. We have never had one half so lovely!"

      Mrs. Herzchen felt rather embarrassed at this praise. She called her husband's attention to the things on the tree. "They can't be made of chocolate," she said, trying to bite off the corner of a fir cone. It was quite hard. "I do believe they are all solid silver!" she said.

      On closer examination, they found a little lion imprinted on each which proved them without doubt to be of real silver.

      "I shall sell them at once, or they may vanish away," she said.

      "I should strongly advise you not to do so," her husband replied, and the children said, "Oh Mother, do let us keep them always, they are so beautiful?"

      "But of what use are they?" said the incorrigible mother who, you see, was not yet quite cured.

      Meanwhile the story was noised abroad that Hansi had found a treasure in the forest.

      The very next day, Christmas Day, as they were eating their goose, stuffed with apples, there was a ring at the bell—in walked a very pompous Prussian policeman with fierce moustaches.

      "Mrs. Herzchen here?" he asked abruptly.

      "What do you want?" asked that lady, much indignant at being disturbed during her Christmas dinner.

      "Young person answering to the name of Hansi Herzchen here?"

      "Yes, sir. Please, sir, that's me," said Hansi, rising and curtsying, and growing very red.

      The policeman produced a paper in which he entered all sorts of memoranda.

      "Age and date of birth?" he demanded of Hansi.

      "Seven years old, of course," answered Hansi. "My birthday is on February 27th, if you want to know. It was on a Sunday last year."

      "That's beside the question." He looked severe.

      "February 27th, 1897," said Hansi, prompted by her mother.

      Residence—temporary or otherwise——.

      Baptism—— date of——.

      Vaccinated——.

      All these facts Hansi's mother supplied at once. They are so constantly demanded in Germany that she had them always ready at hand, tied up in seven different packets for each child.

      Married or single?

      Here Hansi giggled, and he entered solemnly the word "spinster."

      "Is that something horrid?" asked Hansi anxiously.

      "No, it only means unmarried," said Paul laughing. "What a fool he is!"

      Occupation?

      "Please sir, I go to school and learn my lessons, but I play a good deal too."

      "We will write 'spinster,'" he said, frowning fiercely.

      "Now listen to me, child, if you do not wish to go to prison." The whole family shuddered with horror.

      "Take all those silver things off the tree. They are 'found treasure,' and belong to the State. You ought to have declared them at once, and saved me all this trouble," he said.

      Hansi began to cry.

      Mrs. Herzchen was very angry, "Why don't you mind your own business?" she said. "These things are our property. You will come and demand the clothes off our backs next."

      "Be thankful that I do not accuse you of stealing these valuables," answered the fellow in a terrible voice.

      "But are you sure they are not chocolate after all?" he said. "They look remarkably like it, covered with silver paper, you know."

      He examined them carefully and ejaculating, "Well, I never," tossed them all into a leather wallet that he had brought with him.

      Mrs. Herzchen poured forth such a storm of abuse, that he threatened her with an action for libel; but she literally turned him out of doors. Her parting words were: "Get out! Go along and make a fool of yourself if you like."

      Some days afterwards, the man took his treasures to the office and gave them up with a self-important flourish, only to be laughed at for his pains. The cones were just common, ordinary fir cones, and the silver fish had turned into little dead trout, smelling very unpleasant.

      He chucked them all away in the street, and this was an episode in his dignified career that he did not like to be reminded of.

      Although Hansi's