d his ears began to catch once more the sounds about him,
the first thing he heard was a faint cry.

"What is that?" he asked eagerly of Samuel, who was watching beside
him.

"That," said the old shepherd, in tones of mingled joy and reverence,
"is the Child the angels told us about, the Child we came to see. We
found him here in the stable, in a manger."

"And I am not to see him?"

"Yes, you are," said Samuel, and a grave-faced man brought the Child
and laid Him in Dahvid's arms, the Child for whose coming the people
had been longing for a thousand years.

* * * * *

The color at length came back to Dahvid's white cheeks and strength
and health to his limbs and he went back again to the plain. Old
Abraham embraced him, "Forgive me, my son. I have been a hard master.
Thou hast been very faithful, and for thy reward I make thee lord over
all my flocks and half of them shall be thine own."

So Dahvid became a man of flocks, and all his days he was known among
the other shepherds as the one who had held the Christ-child in his
arms. And there was none among them who was thought so brave, and
gentle, and wise as the _Shepherd Who Didn't Go_.

[*] Reprinted by permission from "The City that Never Was Reached," by
Jay T. Stocking; published by the Pilgrim Press.

PAULINA'S CHRISTMAS[*]

A Story of Russian Life. Adapted from Anna Robinson's

_Little Paulina_

One day, in Russia, there was a heavy snowstorm. The snow was deep on
the ground; and in the forest the branches of the trees bent under its
weight.

In this forest a little girl was struggling along. There was no path
for her to follow, for the snow covered all the paths. The little
girl's name was Paulina. She was dressed in a long fur coat, and she
wore a cap and mittens and gaiters of fur, so that she looked more
like a little furry animal than a little girl. She kept tramping
along, not a bit afraid, when suddenly she heard a call for help.

"Help! Help!" the call came.

"Coming, coming!" she called back. She went in the direction of the
voice and soon she saw a man making his way toward her. His dress was
that of a peasant.

"Will you please direct me out of this forest, little one?" he asked.
"You probably know the paths about."

"No, I am a stranger here," Paulina answered. "I live in Kief--that
is, I did live there; but I am on my way to my father."

"Where is your father?" asked the man.

"He is i