treasure; note her agony as that teasing young rogue of an elder brother threatens death and torture to her darling, and you will soon discover that, of all her numerous family, shapeless, clumsy Moppet has the largest place in that warm little heart of hers. Next to these great cloth babies, black Dinahs are the greatest pets in the nursery. It is surprising what a fancy children have for a black face; nay, it is more than a fancy, it is a very positive affection. Whether it is that the negroes, with the cheerful kindliness which usually marks their good-hearted race, have an art of their own in winning little hearts or not, one cannot say; but it is well known that a black nurse is almost always a favorite. These Dinahs of black morocco are, therefore, cherished among the doll family as representatives of the dark face children love so well; they are supposed to be taking very good care of those white linen babies in the little cradle.
But it is not only older fingers which are at work; many little slips of womankind are now busily engaged upon some nice piece of work for papas and mammas, grandfathers and grandmothers. Many are the deep mysteries concerning such matters cleverly concealed just now under an innocent expression—mysteries which Christmas-eve will unfold. And now, as the day draws on apace, all sorts of work, bags, purses, slippers, mittens, what-nots, &c., &c., are getting a more finished look every hour. The work-table is getting more and more crowded. Things wear a very different aspect from the languid, listless, make-believe appearance of summer labors of the same kind; all are in earnest now, great and small, old and young; there is not a moment to spare, Christmas is at hand! And the thought that it is so,
