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great long processions with the most wonderful carriages, which one does not see nowadays, with soldiers dressed like the knave of clubs and citizens with flying banners; the tailors had one with a pair of shears supported by two lions, and the shoemakers had one without a boot, but with an eagle that had two heads, as the shoemakers must have everything so arranged that they can say, "Here is a pair." Yes, it was a wonderful picture-book! And the old man went into the other room to fetch sweetmeats, apples, and nuts; it was really very pleasant in the old house. "I cannot stand it," said the tin soldier, who stood on the chest of drawers; "it is so lonely and dull here. When one has been accustomed to family life one cannot get used to this state of things. I cannot stand it! The day itself is long enough, but the evening is still longer. It is not at all like your house, where your father and mother were always talking so pleasantly together, and where you and all the other dear children were making such a delightful noise. How lonelv the old man is here! Do you think he gets any kisses? Do you think he gets any kind looks or a Christmas tree? He'll get nothing, except a funeral. I cannot stand it!" "You must not take things so sadly," said the little boy. "I think it is lovely here ; and, besides, old memories and what they can carry with them come and visit you." "But I don't see them, and I don't know them," said the tin soldier. " I can't stand it!" "But you must!" said the little boy. And the old man came back with the pleasantest of faces, with the most lovely sweetmeats, apples, and nuts; and then the little boy thought no more of the tin soldier. The little bov went home happy and delighted ; days and weeks passed by, and the nodding went on to and from the old house, and so the little boy went over there again. And the carved trumpeters blew their "Taratantarra! Here is the little boy! Taratantarra!" And the swords and armor on the pictures of the old knights rattled, and the silk gowns rustled, the pigskin talked, and the old chairs had rheumatics in their back and said, "Ugh!" It was just like the first occasion, for over there one day or one hour was Just like another. "I cannot stand it!" said the tin soldier; I have wept tears of tin! It is really too melancholy here. Rather let me go to the wars and lose my arms and legs! That would be a change, at any rate. I cannot stand it! Now I know what it is to receive visits from one's old memories and what they can carry with them. I have had visits from mine, and I can tell you it 's no pleasure in the long run; I was just on the point of jumping from the chest of drawers. I saw all of you in the house