Three little angels strolled along the golden paths of heaven playing their herbs which they held in their hands, and ing snatches of song merrily, and hey might have been doing so now, but that Hadiel dropped his harp, and nat only did it disappear, but broke away some of gold of the rind, 20 that the sun shining fzactly tndernenth avd giving light and warmth tothe world, below, cast " long ray of dazzling light up through the hole and on to the astonished faces of the three angel children. For a moment they stood dismayed, and then thy ann rolled on, which enabled them to kneel upon the ground and by turns look upon the face of the earth, "Oh! it is beautiful!" cried Feediol, clasping her hands impulsively and lifting a beaming face.
"But can you seo your harp, Hadiel es tioned Abdiel as he waited his turn, No," responded the boy, it has entirely disappeared." Let me look," said Abdiel, and he bent his little form and gazed below.
yes, y "he cried; "I can soo it, ib hangs tree in a garden, in a cottage garden, we must fly away and fetch it, it is not broken at all." "Of course replied Hadiel, 'I exnnot do without my harp, but we shan't be able to squeeze through this hole," and forth with he broke away a larger portion of the golden floor, and then with a hurried glance at St. Peter, who was fully occupied at the gate, they' opened their wings and flew away.
As they passed the sun its warmth sent a glow all over them, and they enjoyed the flight, pointing out to each other as they went, the beauties of the earth. Soon however, the air became cooler so that in a little time they shive ed as they flew, conversation became slack, and a curious blue lovk came over their faces, A figure clothed in white fur, with long white beard overtook them. Halle!" "he shouted, but the angels were afraid and fluttered away.
"Oh Fin not going to hurt you; everyone knows me," laughed the for man.
"Who are you?" asked Hadiel. "I'm Jack Frost," he replied; "and I am hun ing off to that little village over ther pointing in the direction of the harp. wer
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.