The kind ladies from Trinity Chapel had sent us a tall tree, upon which we meant to hang our presents. The important thing was, to have the presents for all; and to make sure of this, I, for one, wrote an appeal, and mustering up my courage, marched down town with it the week before to some of the newspaper offices, which is not very pleasant to do, for you have to mount to the very top story; and it is pretty inky in every direction—all except in the good editors' hearts, which were full of loving kindness, warm and glowing. I made a speech to each of these gentlemen, and was very polite, and told them all about the orphans. You can see for yourself what dear old darlings they were! for every one of them put this notice in their papers for me, and all I had to pay were two words, which were "Thank you."

Here is the notice: "Will all the mothers please to remember in these holiday times, the Orphan's Home in Forty-ninth street, near Lexington Avenue? The poor little inmates of this institution depend solely on those who love children to make Christmas a day of rejoicing to them, and thus presents of skates, balls, common jack-knives, kites, tops, marbles, and books, for boys; and dolls, tea sets, cheap work-boxes, jumping ropes, books, etc., for girls—would be eagerly and gratefully received, and each mother who feels nightly the 'little tight clasp' of her sweet little Kate or dear little Harry, will surely remember with loving pity the desolate orphans, in whose hearts, at such times of rejoicing, notwithstanding the kindest treatment, the sorrowful cry must arise, 'I have no mother—my mother is dead!' And so we beseech you, mothers, remember these orphans."

Early in the morning, after Christmas Day, the managers went to the Home to make preparations for the evening. We worked like bees, to get the great room ready. At the lower end were arranged the benches, which went up, one above the other, nearly to the ceiling, as I told you. On these the little orphans were to sit.

Exactly opposite, at the other end, we fastened the tremendous Christmas Tree, that was sent us from Trinity Chapel. Then the presents began to pour in! Dolls, drums, balls, tops, books, and all sorts of pretty things; and we mounted step ladders, and tied them to the branches of our tree. I should think there were hundreds of cornucopias—so many kind people had sent candy, and a great many bags of blue and pink tarleton filled with candy. Ah! then I found out that there were plenty of good mothers and loving hearts in the city of New York.

When we had covered the tree in every direction, we stopped, and stared at each other; and then I said, "Dear me! what shall we do with all that is left!"

"I think we shall have to spread them out on a large table," said our kind and lovely first directress, who had been with the orphans from the very beginning, when the charity was only the little grain of mustard seed; and who loved them like her own children.

Just at that moment, the matron came in and said that the congregation of the Bishop Wainwright Memorial Church in Hammond street, had sent us a large tree and some lanterns.

You may believe that we were perfectly delighted with this news; and the tree was soon hauled in. Then we had to move our tree so as to make a place for the new one; on which it was decided to fasten with the others a number of most beautiful little lanterns, with fine artistic designs painted on them, that had been brought in by the kind, good daughter of our excellent Bishop. She was one of the managers, and took the most unwearied interest in the children. She and some of her friends had made these lanterns.

So the pretty things were carefully fastened to the branches of the new tree, with tapers inside ready for lighting, and the rest of our presents were soon flourishing up there too, making such a grand show, that I thought the children, when they saw it all, would certainly go crazy with delight.