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Hays, Helen Ashe

"$c By Mrs. W. J. Hays"

Mercy, did I say? He knows
none. Death alone could have met this little creature, whose cries have
aroused within me the deepest feelings I have ever known. To be honest,
I have not always been the fierce being I appear. Many and many a time,
unknown to you, I have followed you on your errands of love and pity,
and watched with admiration the course you have pursued. This has
induced me now to come and ask your favor for my treasure. Wake, little
Flax-Flower, wake!" he continued, gently kissing the child's eyes, who,
so stirred, rubbed her sleepy lids with rosy little fists, and looked
around in astonishment.
"Ha!" said the good St. Nicholas; "this is indeed a strange story for
you to tell, friend Bluster. Ho, there, Merrythought! send for Mrs.
Christmas, my house-keeper. The child may be frightened at our grim
faces. But what a pretty little dear it is!" said Claus, in the kindest
tones, putting out his big fat hand to caress her. To Boreas's surprise
Flax-Flower did not shrink from his salute, but with a bright smile
bounded into the old man's arms and kissed him.
Turning away with a pang of jealousy, Boreas muttered, "She wouldn't
kiss _me_; but no matter. That settles it. She's in the right place, and
I'll leave her. Farewell, Claus; I'm off. No, no; I've no time for
eating and drinking.


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