Read Online A Merry Christmas by Louisa May Alcott - Free Book Online

house with a cheery face that was like sunshine in the dark room.
    â€œI’m glad of that, dearie, as I have not been able to get my little girl anything but a rosy apple. What a poor little bird it is. Here, quickly, give the poor thing some of your warm bread and milk.”
    â€œWhy Mother, this bowl is so full. I’m afraid you gave me all the milk,” said Tilly, smiling over the nice, steaming supper that stood ready for her.
    â€œI’ve had plenty, dear. Sit down and warm your feet. You may put the bird in my basket on this cozy flannel.”
    After placing the bird tenderly into the basket, Tilly peeped into the closet and saw nothing there but dry bread.
    â€œOh dear,” Tilly exclaimed to herself, “Mother’s given me all the milk and is going without her tea because she knows I’m hungry. I’ll surprise her by fixing her a good supper while she is outside splitting wood.”
    As soon as her mother left the room, Tilly reached for the old teapot and carefully poured out a part of the milk. Then from her pocket, she drew a great, plump bun that one of the school children had given her. She had saved it for just this purpose. She toasted a slice of the bun and set a bit of butter on the plate for her mother to put on it. When her mother came in, she found the table drawn up in a warm place, a hot cup of tea ready, and Tilly and the birdie waiting patiently.
    Such a poor little supper, and yet such a happy one, for love, charity, and contentment were welcome guests around the humble table. That Christmas Eve was a sweeter one even than that at the great house, where light shone, fires blazed, a great tree glittered, music sounded, and children danced and played.
    â€œWe must go to bed early,” said Tilly’s mother as they sat by the fire. “We must save the wood, for there is only enough to last through tomorrow. The day after, I shall be paid for my work, and we can buy more.”
    â€œIf only my bird were a fairy bird and would give us three wishes,” Tilly said quietly. “How nice that would be! But, the poor dear can give me nothing, and it is of no matter.” Tilly was looking at the robin, who lay in the basket with his head under his wing, nothing more than a feathery, little ball.
    â€œHe can give you one thing, Tilly,” her mother said. “He can give you the pleasure of doing good. That is one of the sweetest things in life, and it can be enjoyed by the poor as well as the rich.” As Tilly’s mother spoke, she softly stroked her daughter’s hair with her tired hand.
    Suddenly Tilly started with surprise and pointed toward the window. “I saw a face—a man’s face,” she confided in a frightened whisper. “He was looking in. He’s gone now, but I truly saw him.”
    Tilly’s mother stood up and went to the door. “Some traveler attracted by the light perhaps,” she said.
    The wind blew cold, the stars shone bright, the snow lay white on the field and the wood, and the Christmas moon was glittering in the sky; but no human person was standing within sight.
    â€œWhat sort of face was it?” asked Tilly’s mother, quickly closing the door.
    â€œA pleasant sort of face, I think, but I was so startled to see it there that I don’t quite know what it was like. I wish we had a curtain there,” said Tilly.
    â€œI like to have our light shine out in the evening, for the road is dark and lonely just here, and the twinkle of our lamp is pleasant to people as they pass by. We can do so little for our neighbors. I am glad we can at least cheer them on their way,” said Tilly’s mother. “Now put those poor, old shoes to dry and go to bed, dearie. I’ll be coming soon.”
    Tilly went, taking her birdie with her to sleep in his basket near her bed, lest he should be lonely in the night. Soon the little house was dark and still.
    When Tilly came down and