once, a little child. Time, Time," he cried, reaching out his arms in appeal, "give me back my children!"
"They do not die in vain," Time murmured gently.
But Christmas only moaned in answer:
"Give me back my children!”
Then he sank down upon his pile of books and toys, his head buried in his arms.
"You see," said Time, "his heart is breaking, and will you not help him if you can?"