ge little fellow and will not, or else cannot speak,
yet he sings beautifully in his own odd way as you hear him now. I
called him Christchild as I knew no better name. Are you not the
Senorita of El Tulucay? I know that horse which you have and have often
seen him with a lady on his back flying over all the fields about here."

"Yes, I am Jovita of the Tulucay, and I know you now; you are called
Crescimir the Illyrian, and I have been often to your cabin and sat
beneath the great laurel while you were in the fields or at your work. I
have often left flowers there at your door just for the pleasure of
imagining the surprise when you should find them, and I always took the
vegetables I found there, for I knew that they were for me. However, I
never saw your face before this morning. You see I am little like our
Californians, but my mother is from the States and believes in more
freedom; she could not be better or kinder though she were a real
Californian. If you are able we had better go up to the hacienda now,
and after breakfast we will look about to see if assistance is needed
along the river, for the flood was sudden and unlooked for."

Crescimir was not hurt and was able to walk slowly to the house. Jovita
walked by his side, leading her horse, while the Christchild sat quietly
in the saddle, nodding his head and winking like any sleepy child of
this mortal world.

Both Crescimir and Jovita were silent during the walk, but their eyes
often met, and Jovita would blush as she thought of her strange freak
with the flowers and finding that the receiver was by no means the old
man she had imagined him to be.

Crescimir was happy to think that he had not left his gifts
unappreciated and only regretted that he had not put whole pumpkins
there instead of onions.

"So you have no idea to whom the child belongs?" asked Jovita, as they
neared the house. "He is strangely dressed and the frock is of an
unfamiliar texture; he does not seem cold either, although he is so
lightly clad. We must try to find his parents who, doubtless, are now
anxiously searching for him or believing him drowned in last night's
awful flood."

The strange little creature seemed now entirely to lose his sleepiness
and broke into a merry laugh, sliding down from the saddle he capered
madly around the two astonished spectators like a little elf blown about
by the wind, his golden hair floating around him and the pink, little
feet scarcely seeming t