isn't_ it Christmas?" asked Dolly with a puzzled air.

"No, child; nobody knows when Christ was born, and there is nothing in
the Bible to tell us _when_ to keep Christmas."

And then in family worship the Doctor read the account of the birth of
Christ and of the shepherds abiding in the fields who came at the call
of the angels, and they sung the old hymn:

"While shepherds watched their flocks by night."

"Now, children," he said when all was over, "you must be good children
and go to school. If we are going to keep any day on account of the
birth of Christ, the best way to keep it is by doing all our duties on
that day better than any other. Your duty is to be good children, go to
school and mind your lessons."

Tom and Bill were quite ready to fall in with their father's view of the
matter. As for Dolly, she put her little tongue advisedly to the back of
her sugar dog and found that he was very sweet indeed--a most tempting
little animal. She even went so far as to nibble off a bit of the green
ground he stood on--yet resolved heroically not to eat him at once, but
to make him last as long as possible. She wrapped him tenderly in cotton
and took him to the school with her, and when her confidential friend,
Bessie Lewis, displayed her Christmas gifts, Dolly had something on her
side to show, though she shook her curly head and informed Bessie in
strict confidence that there wasn't any such thing as Christmas, her
papa had told her so--a heresy which Bessie forthwith reported when she
went home at noon.

"Poor little child--and did she say so?" asked gentle old Grandmamma
Lewis. "Well, dear, you mustn't blame her--she don't know any better.
You bring the little one in here to-night and I'll give her a Christmas
cooky. I'm sorry for such children."

And so, after school, Dolly went in to see dear old Madam Lewis, who sat
in her rocking-chair in the front parlor, where the fire was snapping
behind great tall brass andirons and all the pictures were overshadowed
with boughs of spruce and pine. Dolly gazed about her with awe and
wonder. Over one of the pictures was suspended a cross of green with
flowers of white everlasting.

"What is _that_ for?" asked Dolly, pointing solemnly with her little
forefinger, and speaking under her breath.

"Dear child, that is the picture of my poor boy who died--ever so many
years ago. That is my cross--we have all one--to carry."

Dolly did not half understand these wo