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Speaker 1: A Christmas fairy by John's Strange Winter. It was getting

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very near to Christmas time, and all the boys at

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miss Ware's school were talking about going home for the holidays.

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I shall go to the Christmas festivals, said Bertie Fellows,

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and my mother will have a party, and my aunt

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will give another. Oh, I shall have a splendid time

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at home. My uncle Bob is going to give me

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a pair of skates, remarked Harry Watdham. My father is

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going to give me a bicycle, put in George Alderson.

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Will you bring it back to school with you, asked Carrie. Oh. Yes.

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If miss Ware doesn't say no, well, Tom cried Bertie.

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Where are you going to spend your holidays? I'm going

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to stay here, answered Tom, in a very forlorn voice,

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here at school. Oh dear, why can't you go home.

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I can't go home to India, answered Tom. Nobody said

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you could. But haven't you any relatives anywhere? Tom shook

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his head. Only in India, he said, sadly, poor fellow,

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that's hard luck for you. I'll tell you what it is. Boys.

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If I couldn't go home for the holidays, especially at Christmas,

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I think I would just sit down and die. Oh no,

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you wouldn't, said Tom. You would get ever so homesick,

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but you wouldn't die. You would just get through somehow

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and hope something would happen before next year, or that

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some kind of fairy would. There are no fairies nowadays,

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said Bertie. See here, Tom, all right now, my mother

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to invite you to go home with me for the holidays.

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Will you really yes? I will? And if she says yes,

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we shall have such a splendid time. We live in London,

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you know, and have lots of parties and fun. Perhaps

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she will say no, suggested poor little Tom. My mother

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isn't the kind that says no, Bertie declared loudly. In

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a few days time, a letter arrived from Bertie's mother.

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The boy opened it eagerly. It said, my own dear Bertie,

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I am very sorry to tell you that little Alice

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is ill with scarlet fever, and so you cannot come

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for your holidays. I would have been glad to have

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you bring your little friend with you if all had

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been well here. Your father and I have decided that

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the best thing that you can do is to stay

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at Miss War's. We shall send your Christmas to you

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as well as we can. It will not be like

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coming home, but I am sure you will try to

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be happy and make me feel that you are helping

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me in this sad time. Dear little Alice is very ill,

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very ill. Indeed, tell Tom that I am sending you

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a box for both of you, with two of everything,

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and tell him that it makes me so much happier

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to know that you will not be alone your own mother.

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When Bertie Fellows received this letter, which ended all his

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Christmas hopes and joys, he hid his face upon his

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desk and sobbed aloud. The lonely boy from India, who

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sat next to him tried to comfort his friend, and

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every way he could think of he patted his shoulder

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and whispered many kind words to him. At last, Bertie

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put the letter into Tom's hands, read it, he sobbed

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so then Tom understood the cause of Bertie's grief. Don't

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fret over it, he said, at last, it might be

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worse why your father and mother might be thousands of

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miles away like mine are. When Alice is better, you

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will be able to go home, and it will help

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your mother if she thinks you are almost as happy

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as if you could go now soon. Miss Ware came

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to tell Bertie how sorry she was for him. After all,

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she said, smiling down on the two boys. It is

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an ill wind that blows nobody good. Poor Tom has

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been expecting to spend his holidays alone, and now he

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will have a friend with him. Try to look on

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the bright side, Bertie, and to remember how much worse

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it would have been if there had been no boy

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to stay with you. I can't help being disappointed, miss Ware,

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said Bertie, his eyes filling with tears. No, you would

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be a strange boy if you were not. But I

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want you to try to think of your poor mother

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and write her as cheerfully as you can. Yes, answered Bertie,

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but his hard it was too full to say more.

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The last day of the term came, and one by

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one or two by two, the boys went away, until

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only Bertie and Tom were left in the great house.

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It had never seemed so large to either of them before.

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It's miserable, groaned poor Bertie as they strolled into the schoolroom.

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Just think if we were on our way home now,

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how different. Just think if I had been left here

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by myself, said Tom. Yes, said Bertie, but you know,

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when one wants to go home, he never thinks of

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the boys that have no home to go to. The

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evening passed, and the two boys went to bed. They

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told stories to each other for a long time before

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they could go to sleep. That night, they dreamed of

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their homes and felt very lonely, yet each tried to

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be brave, And so another day began. This was the

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day before Christmas. Quite early in the morning came the

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great Box of which Bertie's mother had spoken in her letter. Then,

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just as dinner had come to an end, there was

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a peal at the bell, and a voice was heard

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asking for Tom Egerton. Tom sprang to his feet and

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flew to greet a tall, handsome lady crying Aunt Laura.

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Aunt Laura, and Laura explained that she and her husband

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had arrived in London only the day before. I was

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so afraid, Tom, She said that we should not get

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here until Christmas Day was over, and that you would

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be disappointed. So I would not let your mother write

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you that we were on our way home. You must

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get your things packed up at once and go back

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with me to London. Then Uncle and I will give

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you a splendid time for a minute or two, Tom's

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face shone with delight. Then he caught sight of Bertie

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and turned to his aunt, dear Aunt Laura. He said,

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I am very sorry, but I can't go. Can't go,

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and why not? Because I can't go and leave Bertie

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here all alone, he said stoutly. When I was going

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to be alone, he wrote, and asked his mother to

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let me go home with him. She could not have

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either of us because Bertie's sister as scarlet fever. He

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has to stay here and ever been away from home

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at Christmas time before, and I can't go in and

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leave him by myself, Aunt Laura. For a minute, Aunt

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Laura looked at the boy as if she could not

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believe him. Then she caught him in her arms and

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kissed him. You, dear little boy, you shall not leave him.

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You shall bring him along and we shall all enjoy

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ourselves together. Bertie, my boy, you are not very old yet,

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but I am going to teach you a lesson as

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well as I can. It is that kindness is never

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wasted in this world. And so Bertie and Tom found

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that there was such a thing as a fairy after all.

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End of a Christmas fairy by John's Strange Winter