, for
her to remember the world's love in. She came hobbling back every day
to see him after she had gone, and would stay to make his soup, telling
him, child-like, how many days it was until Christmas. He knew that,
as well as she, waiting through the cold, slow hours, in his solitary
room. He thought sometimes she had some eager petition to offer him,
when she stood watching him wistfully, twisting her hands together; but
she always smothered it with a sigh, and, tying her little woollen cap,
went away, walking more slowly, he thought, every day.

Do you remember how Christmas came that year? how there was a waiting
pause, when the States stood still, and from the peoples came the first
awful murmurs of the storm that was to shake the earth? how men's
hearts failed them for fear, how women turned pale, and held their
children closer to their breasts, while they heard a far cry of
lamentation for their country that had fallen? Do you remember how,
amidst the fury of men's anger, the storehouses of God were opened for
that land? how the very sunshine gathered new splendours, the rains
more fruitful moisture, until the earth poured forth an unknown fulness
of life and beauty? Was there no promise there, no prophecy? Do you
remember, while the very life of the people hung in doubt before them,
while the angel of death came again to pass over the land, and there
was no blood on any door-post to keep him from that house, how serenely
the old earth folded in her harvest, dead, till it should waken to a
stronger life? how quietly, as the time came near for the birth of
Christ, this old earth made ready for his coming, heedless of the
clamour of men? how the air grew fresher above, day by day, and the
gray deep silently opened for the snow to go down and screen and whiten
and make holy that fouled earth? I think the slow-falling snow did not
fail in its quiet warning; for I remember that men, too, in a feeble
way tried to make ready for the birth of Christ. There was a healthier
glow than terror stirred in their hearts; because of the vague, great
dread without, it may be, they drew closer together round household
fires, were kindlier in the good old-fashioned way; old friendships
were wakened, old times talked over, fathers and mothers and children
planned homely ways to show the love in their hearts and to welcome in
Christmas. Who knew but it might be the last? Let us be thankful for
that happy Christmas-day. What