ng a deal more
comfortable."

The cap was found and brought to Teig.

"Clip, clap, clip, clap, for my wee red cap, I wish I was home," he
sang.

Up and over the heads of the dumfounded guard he flew, and--whist--and
away out of sight. When he opened his eyes again, he was sitting close
by his own hearth, with the fire burnt low. The hands of the clock were
still, the bolt was fixed firm in the door. The fairies' lights were
gone, and the only bright thing was the candle burning in old Barney's
cabin across the road.

A running of feet sounded outside, and then the snatch of a song:

"'Tis well that ye mind--ye who sit by the fire--
That the Lord he was born in a dark and cold byre.
Mhuire as truagh!"

"Wait ye, whoever ye are!" and Teig was away to the corner, digging fast
at the loose clay, as a terrier digs at a bone. He filled his hands full
of the shining gold, then hurried to the door, unbarring it.

The miller's wee Cassie stood there, peering at him out of the darkness.

"Take those to the widow O'Donnelly, do ye hear? And take the rest to
the store. Ye tell Jamie to bring up all that he has that is eatable an'
dhrinkable; and to the neighbours ye say, 'Teig's keepin' the feast this
night.' Hurry now!"

Teig stopped a moment on the threshold until the tramp of her feet had
died away; then he made a hollow of his two hands and called across the
road:

"Hey there, Barney, will ye come over for a sup?"

FOOTNOTE:

[F] Published originally in the _Outlook_. Reprinted here by arrangement
with the author.

X

A STORY OF THE CHRIST-CHILD[G]

A German legend for Christmas Eve as told by

ELIZABETH HARRISON

ONCE upon a time, a long, long time ago, on the night before Christmas,
a little child was wandering all alone through the streets of a great
city. There were many people on the street, fathers and mothers, sisters
and brothers, uncles and aunts, and even gray-haired grandfathers and
grandmothers, all of whom were hurrying home with bundles of presents
for each other and for their little ones. Fine carriages rolled by,
express wagons rattled past, even old carts were pressed into service,
and all things seemed in a hurry and glad with expectation of the coming
Christmas morning.

From some of the windows bright lights were already beginning to stream
until it was almost as bright as day. But the little child seemed to
h