They kept not exactly a "merry," but a very happy Christmas that season at Annesley House. There were no invited guests present, but Uncle Philip, now convalescent, left his chamber for the first time that evening, and was wheeled in his easy chair into the noble old dining-hall, to the boundless delight of the children.
"Mamma," said Herbert softly, "how young and handsome Grandpapa looks to-night!"
"I know why," said little Harry, with a very wise look, "it's all for Uncle Philip; 'cause he's getting well, and 'cause he wasn't drowned in the great deep sea!"
When Dr. Annesley came to read a portion of Scripture for the evening service, Philip, who sat close beside his aged father, said, shading his face with his hand, "Brother, will you please to read the parable of the Prodigal Son."
When the Doctor ceased reading, he saw that Philip had dropped his face on his father's shoulder, and that the old man had laid his hand on his son's head, and was looking upward for God's blessing on the repentant prodigal. And God did bless him, and made him ever after a faithful son and a good man. And God blessed all that household, for they loved him and one another, and strove to do good to all the world.
[Snowdrop.]
Little Nannie Tompkins was the daughter of a poor laborer, who lived in a humble cottage, by the roadside, near a small market-town, in the north of England. Nannie had two brothers older than herself, away at service, and a sister about two years younger, a gentle, pretty child, whose name was Olive—but she was always called Ollie.
The Tompkinses were the tenants of Farmer Grey, a good, amiable man, kind to the poor, and very tender to little children, birds, and animals—to everything that needed help and protection.