stirred a little. Then Joan,
hanging the lantern to the rack above the manger, knelt down by its side
to watch the quiet slumber of the welcome child.

Were the angels there, asked Joan of herself, unseen and unheard by her,
singing glory? And oh! where was Mary, His mother? and where could
Joseph be? She must take care of the sleeping baby till they came back;
and surely Aunt Priscilla would consent to have such guests as these in
her house.

But before very long she heard Nathan's voice calling her anxiously. He
wanted his lantern; and his mind was not quite easy as to whether it was
well for Joan to keep up a fancy like this. At the sound the baby
stirred, and its tiny features grew puckered up, as if it was about to
cry. Joan sprang up quickly yet quietly, and appeared in the doorway,
beckoning to old Nathan to keep still.

"Hush! hush!" she cried; "he is here sleeping, and you mustn't wake him.
But I don't know where Mary is or Joseph. There is nobody but the baby.
Oh, I am so happy! I am so happy!"

"What does Joan mean?" thought Nathan, stepping heavily yet gently on
into the inner shed, which he had filled with provender the day before.
Joan led him to the farther stall, and there, in a warm, soft nest of
hay, well wrapped up and sleeping soundly again, lay the baby. The old
man stood silently gazing at it till the slow tears trickled down his
grey and withered cheeks.

"God help us!" he sobbed at last; "poor little lost babe! Come on
Christmas mornin'! And where's thy poor, sorrowful mother? What can we
do for thee, Joan and me? Nobody to give thee a welcome but an old man
and a little child. But we'll love thee for the dear Lord's sake as sent
thee to us on Christmas mornin'. Ay, and, old as I am, I'll fight thy
battles for thee, poor lamb!"

Very gently he lifted up the tender little creature, and laid it in
Joan's outstretched arms, which tingled with delight, mingled with fear
lest she should loose her hold of it. A flush of colour had come to her
pale face, and all the sadness had fled from it, and her eyes were
shining with joy. Nathan lighted her steps along the stony causeway,
which she trod with a thrill of anxious care, lest she might slip and
fall with her precious burden. But the house was reached in safety, and
the sleeping child had uttered no cry.

"Lay it warm in thy own bed," said Nathan, "and wrap the blankets about
it, and I'll run and fetch Nurse Williams, that knows how to manage
l