e can do it. But meantime I've got to go on doing the way I always
have. Joe has been trying to drive that tip-cart, and the horse ran away
with him twice. Then he let the cart fall on his foot and mash one of
his toes, and he can hardly get round, and Amanda and Alma don't dare
touch that money in the bank for fear of not having enough to pay the
taxes next year in case I don't help them. They only had a little money
on hand when I gave them that talking to, and Christmas is 'most here,
and they haven't got things they really need. Amanda's coat that she
wore to meeting last Sunday didn't look very warm to me, and poor Alma
had her furs chewed up by the Leach dog, and she's going without any.
They need lots of things. And poor Mis' Adkins is 'most sick with
tobacco smoke. I can see it, though she doesn't say anything, and the
nice parlor curtains are full of it, and cat hairs are all over things.
I can't hold out any longer, Edward. Maybe I am a door-mat; and if I am,
and it is wicked, may the Lord forgive me, for I've got to keep right on
being a door-mat."

Hayward sighed and lighted his pipe. However, he had given up and
connived with Jim.

On Christmas eve the two men were in hiding behind a clump of cedars
in the front yard of Jim's nieces' house. They watched the expressman
deliver a great load of boxes and packages. Jim drew a breath of joyous
relief.

"They are taking them in," he whispered--"they are taking them in,
Edward!"

Hayward looked down at the dim face of the man beside him, and something
akin to fear entered his heart. He saw the face of a lifelong friend,
but he saw something in it which he had never recognized before. He saw
the face of one of the children of heaven, giving only for the sake of
the need of others, and glorifying the gifts with the love and pity of
an angel.

"I was afraid they wouldn't take them!" whispered Jim, and his watching
face was beautiful, although it was only the face of a little, old man
of a little village, with no great gift of intellect. There was a full
moon riding high; the ground was covered with a glistening snow-level,
over which wavered wonderful shadows, as of wings. One great star
prevailed despite the silver might of the moon. To Hayward Jim's face
seemed to prevail, as that star, among all the faces of humanity.

Jim crept noiselessly toward a window, Hayward at his heels. The two
could see the lighted interior plainly.

"See poor Alma trying on her