le a young woman was placing eggs, limes, and some
vegetables in a wide basket. Two children, a boy and a girl, were
playing by the side of another, who, pale and sad, with large eyes
and a deep gaze, was seated on a fallen tree-trunk. In his thinned
features we recognize Sisa's son, Basilio, the brother of Crispin.

"When your foot gets well," the little girl was saying to him,
"we'll play hide-and-seek. I'll be the leader."

"You'll go up to the top of the mountain with us," added the little
boy, "and drink deer blood with lime-juice and you'll get fat, and
then I'll teach you how to jump from rock to rock above the torrent."

Basilio smiled sadly, stared at the sore on his foot, and then turned
his gaze toward the sun, which shone resplendently.

"Sell these brooms," said the grandfather to the young woman, "and
buy something for the children, for tomorrow is Christmas."

"Firecrackers, I want some firecrackers!" exclaimed the boy.

"I want a head for my doll," cried the little girl, catching hold of
her sister's tapis.

"And you, what do you want?" the grandfather asked Basilio, who at
the question arose laboriously and approached the old man.

"Sir," he said, "I've been sick more than a month now, haven't I?"

"Since we found you lifeless and covered with wounds, two moons have
come and gone. We thought you were going to die."

"May God reward you, for we are very poor," replied Basilio. "But now
that tomorrow is Christmas I want to go to the town to see my mother
and my little brother. They will be seeking for me."

"But, my son, you're not yet well, and your town is far away. You
won't get there by midnight."

"That doesn't matter, sir. My mother and my little brother must be
very sad. Every year we spend this holiday together. Last year the
three of us had a whole fish to eat. My mother will have been mourning
and looking for me."

"You won't get to the town alive, boy! Tonight we're going to have
chicken and wild boar's meat. My sons will ask for you when they come
from the field."

"You have many sons while my mother has only us two. Perhaps she
already believes that I'm dead! Tonight I want to give her a pleasant
surprise, a Christmas gift, a son."

The old man felt the tears springing up into his eyes, so, placing
his hands on the boy's head, he said with emotion: "You're like an
old man! Go, look for your mother, give her the Christmas gift--from
God, as you say. If I had known the name of