asked Jill, who had never seen that famouspersonage, and knew but little of Christmas festivities.
"It is the Christ-child, whose birthday we are celebrating. I got thebest I could find, for I like the idea better than old Santa Claus;though we may have him, too," said Mamma, holding the littleimage so that both could see it well.
"It looks like a real baby"; and Jack touched the rosy foot with thetip of his finger, as if expecting a crow from the half-open lips.
"It reminds me of the saints in the chapel of the Sacred Heart inMontreal. One little St. John looked like this, only he had a lambinstead of wings," said Jill, stroking the flaxen hair, and wishingshe dared ask for it to play with.
"He is the children's saint to pray to, love, and imitate, for he neverforgot them, but blessed and healed and taught them all his life.
This is only a poor image of the holiest baby ever born, but I hopeit will keep his memory in your minds all day, because this is theday for good resolutions, happy thoughts, and humble prayers, aswell as play and gifts and feasting."While she spoke, Mrs. Minot, touching the little figure as tenderlyas if it were alive, had tied a broad white ribbon round it, and,handing it to Ralph, bade him fasten it to the hook above thetree-top, where it seemed to float as if the downy wings supportedit.
Jack and Jill lay silently watching, with a sweet sort of sobernessin their young faces, and for a moment the room was very still asall eyes looked up at the Blessed Child. The sunshine seemed togrow more golden as it flickered on the little head, the flamesglanced about the glittering tree as if trying to climb and kiss thebaby feet, and, without, a chime of bells rang sweetly, callingpeople to hear again the lovely story of the life begun onChristinus Day.
Only a minute, but it did them good, and presently, when thepleasant work was over, and the workers gone, the boys to church,and Mamma to see about lunch for the invalids, Jack said, gravcly,to Jill,"I think we ought to be extra good, everyone is so kind to us, andwe are getting well, and going to have such capital times. Don't seehow we can do anything else to show we are grateful.""It isn't easy to be good when one is sick," said Jill, thoughtfully. "Ifret dreadfully, I get so tired of being still. I want to screamsometimes, but I don't, because it would scare Mammy, so I cry.
Do you cry, Jack?""Men never do. I want to tramp round when things bother me; but Ican t, so I kick and say, 'Hang it! and when I get very bad I pitchinto Frank, arid he lets me. I tell you, Jill, he's a good brother!" andJack privately resolved then and there to invite Frank to take it outof him in any form he pleased as soon as health would permit.
"I rather think we shall grow good in this pretty place, for I don'tsee how we can be bad if we want to, it is all so nice and sort ofpious here," said Jill, with her eyes on the angel over the tree.
