an, who told them, in a quaint Irish brogue,
the story of the "little rid hin," that was caught by the fox, and got
away, again, safe, to her own little house in the woods, where she
"lived happy iver afther, an' got a fine little brood of chickens to
live wid her; an' pit 'em all intill warrum stockings and shoes, an'
round-o-caliker gowns."

And they carped at no discrepancies or improbabilities; but seized all
eagerly, and fused it in their quick imaginations to one beautiful
meaning; which, whether it were of chicken comfort, overbrooded with
warm love, or of a clothed, contented childhood, in safe shelter,
mattered not a bit.

Into this warm, blithe scene came Glory, just as the fable was ended for
the fourth time, bringing the last little chick, flushed and rosy from a
bath; born into beauty, like Venus from the sea; her fair hair, combed
and glossy, hanging about her neck in curls; and wrapped, not in a
"round-o-caliker," but in a scarlet-flannel nightgown, comfortable and
gay. Then they had bowls of bread and milk, and gingerbread, and ate
their suppers by the fire. And then Glory told them the old story of
Santa Claus; and how, if they hung their stockings by the chimney, there
was no knowing what they mightn't find in them to-morrow.

"Only," she said, "whatever it is, and whoever He sends it by, it all
comes from the good Lord, first of all."

And then, the two white beds in the two bedrooms close by held four
little happy bodies, whose souls were given into God's keeping till his
Christmas dawn should come, in the old, holy rhyme, said after Glory.

By and by, Faith and Mr. Armstrong and Miss Sampson came over from the
Corner House, with parcels from. Kriss Kringle.

And now there was a gladsome time for all; but chiefly, for Glory.

What unpacking and refolding in separate papers! Every sugar pig, and
dog, and pussy cat must be in a distinct wrapping, that so the children
might be a long time finding out all that Santa Claus had brought them.
What stuffing, and tying, and pinning, inside, and outside, and over the
little red woolen legs that hung, expectant, above the big, open
chimney! How Glory laughed, and sorted, and tied and made errands for
string and pins, and seized the opportunity for brushing away great
tears of love, and joy, and thankfulness, that would keep coming into
her eyes! And then, when all was done, and she and Faith came back from
a little flitting into the bedrooms, and a hover