3. Appoint a committee of three from your class to

report fully on Dickens's life and writings. Take brief notes on their report.

THE HOLIDAY SPIRIT

BY EMILE SOUVESTRE

Twelve o'clock.—A knock at my door; a poor girl comes in and greets me by name. At first I do not recall her, but she looks at me and smiles. Ah, it is Paulette! But it is nearly a year since I have seen her, and Paulette is no longer the same; the other day she was 5 a child; to-day she is almost a young woman.

Paulette is thin, pale, and miserably clad; but she has always the same open and straightforward look—the same mouth, smiling at every word as if to plead for sympathy—the same voice, timid yet caressing. Paulette is not 10 pretty—she is even thought plain; as for me, I think her charming. Perhaps that is not on her account but on my own. Paulette is a part of one of my happiest recollections.

It was the evening of a public holiday. Our principal buildings were lighted with festoons of fire, a thousand flags floated in the night wind, and the fireworks had just shot forth their jets of flame in the midst of the Champ de Mars. Suddenly one of those unaccountable panics which 5 seize a multitude falls upon the dense crowd; they cry out, they rush on headlong; the weaker ones fall and the frightened crowd tramples them down in its convulsive struggles. Escaping from the confusion by a miracle, I was hastening away when the cries of a perishing child 10 arrested me; I went back into that human chaos and after unheard-of exertions I brought Paulette away at the peril of my life.

That was two years ago; since then I had seen the child only at long intervals and had almost forgotten her; but 15 Paulette had a grateful heart, and she came at the beginning of the year to bring me her good wishes. She brought me, too, a wallflower in full bloom; she herself had planted and reared it; it was something that belonged wholly to herself, for it was because of her care, her perseverance, 20 and her patience that it was hers.

The wallflower had grown in a common pot; but Paulette, who is a bandbox maker, had put it into a case of varnished paper ornamented with arabesques. These might have been in better taste, but I felt the good will 25 none the less.

This unexpected present, the little girl's modest blushes, the compliments she stammered out, dispelled, as by a sunbeam, the mist which had gathered round my heart; my thoughts suddenly changed from the leaden tints of 30 evening to the rosiest colors of dawn. I made Paulette sit down and questioned her with a light heart.

At first the little girl replied by monosyllables; but very soon the tables were turned and it was I who interrupted with short interjections her long confidences. The poor child leads a hard life. She was left an orphan long ago and with a brother and sister lives with an old grandmother, 5 who has brought them up to poverty, as she says.

However Paulette now helps her to make bandboxes, her little sister Perrine begins to sew, and her brother Henri is apprenticed to a printer. All would go well if it were not for losses and want of work—if it were not for clothes which 10 wear out, for appetites which grow larger, and for the winter, when you must buy your sunshine. Paulette complains that candles go too quickly and that the wood costs too much. The fireplace in their garret is so large that a fagot produces no more effect than a match; it is so near 15 the roof that the wind blows down the rain and in winter it hails upon the hearth; so they have given up using it. Henceforth they must be content with an earthen chafing dish, upon which they cook their meals. The grandmother had often spoken of a stove that was for sale at the huckster's 20 on the ground floor, but he asked seven francs for it and the times are too hard for such an expense; the family, therefore, resign themselves to cold for economy's sake!

As Paulette spoke I felt more and more that I was rising above my low spirits. The first disclosures of the little 25 bandbox maker created within me a wish that soon became a plan. I questioned her about her daily occupations and she told me that on leaving me she must go with her brother, her sister, and her grandmother, to the different people for whom they work. My plan was immediately settled. I 30 told the child that I would go to see her in the evening, and I sent her away, thanking her anew.

I placed the wallflower in the open window, where a ray of sunshine bade it welcome; the birds were singing around, the sky had cleared, and the day which began so gloomily had become bright. I sang as I moved about my room, and having hastily got ready I went out. 5

Three o'clock.—All is settled with my neighbor, the chimney doctor; he will repair my old stove, the old stove which I had replaced, and promises to make it as good as new. At five o'clock we are going to put it up in Paulette's grandmother's room. 10

Midnight.—All has gone well. At the hour agreed upon I was at the old bandbox maker's; she was still out. My Piedmontese fixed the stove, while I arranged in the great fireplace a dozen logs borrowed from my winter's stock. I shall make up for them by warming myself with 15 walking or by going to bed earlier.

My heart beat at every step which was heard on the staircase; I trembled lest they should interrupt me in my preparations and should thus spoil my intended surprise. But no—everything is ready; the lighted stove murmurs 20 gently, the little lamp burns upon the table, and a bottle of oil for it is provided on the shelf. The chimney doctor is gone. Now my fear lest they should come is changed into impatience at their delay. At last I hear children's voices; here they are! They push open the door and 25 rush in—but they stop with cries of astonishment.

At sight of the lamp, the stove, and the visitor who stands there like a magician in the midst of these wonders, they draw back almost frightened. Paulette is the first to understand, and the arrival of the grandmother, mounting 30 the stairs more slowly, finishes the explanation. Then come tears, ecstasies, thanks!

Surprises are not over yet. The little sister opens the oven and discovers some chestnuts just roasted; the grandmother puts her hand on the bottles of cider arranged on the dresser; and I draw forth from the basket that I have hidden, a cold tongue, a wedge-shaped piece of butter, 5 and some fresh rolls.

Now their wonder turns into admiration; the little family have never taken part in such a feast! They lay the cloth, they sit down, they eat; it is a perfect festival for all, and each contributes his share. I had brought only the supper; 10 the bandbox maker and the children supplied the enjoyment.

What bursts of laughter at nothing! What a hubbub of questions which waited for no reply, of replies which answered no question! The old woman herself shared in the wild merriment of the little ones! I have always wondered 15 at the ease with which the poor forget their wretchedness. Accustomed to live in the present, they use every pleasure as soon as it offers itself. But the rich, blunted by luxury, gain happiness less easily. They must have all things in harmony before they consent to be happy. 20

The evening passed like a moment. The old woman has told me the story of her life, sometimes smiling, sometimes crying. Perrine has sung an old ballad with her fresh young voice. Henri has told us what he knows of the great writers of the day, whose proofs he has to carry. 25 At last we were obliged to separate, not without new thanks on the part of the happy family.

I have come home slowly, with a full heart, thinking over the pure memories of this evening. It has given me comfort and much instruction. Now the years can come 30 and go. I know that no one is so unhappy as to have nothing to receive and nothing to give.

As I came in I met my rich neighbor's new equipage. She too had just returned from her evening party; and as she sprang from the carriage step with feverish impatience, I heard her murmur, "At last!"

I, when I left Paulette's family, said, "So soon!" 5

1. Is this a Christmas story? Give reasons for your answer. Is its title fitting? What in the story itself suggests the time of year? Where do the events take place? Contrast this story with "The Cratchits' Christmas," preceding, as to (a) kind of people; (b) place; (c) the chief actor; (d) the feast itself; (e) the manner of telling.

2. Describe Paulette's family. How did they make a living? How had the author become acquainted with Paulette?