"for we have seen His star in the East and we
go to worship Him."

"Surely I will come," said the old woman, "but the oven is heated for
my bread and I must even now bake it. After awhile, I will follow and
find where this star leads."

But she never saw the Christ-child because, when her bread was baked,
the star no longer shone in the sky. Ever since she has been
searching, but has never found Him. She it is who fills the children's
stockings on Christmas Eve, and decks the fir-tree on Christmas morn,
because she hopes to find in some poor child she has fed or clothed the
little Lord Jesus whom she neglected hundreds and hundreds of years
ago. Long before dawn on Christmas Day the children in Russia are
awakened by the cry, "Behold the Baboushka!" and they spring out of bed
on the instant hoping to see her vanish out of the window, but no child
has seen aught save only the gifts she has left behind.

Maryam thinks--indeed, she tells it to the four winds--that the
Christ-child has left Russia and has come to Canada in a big ship with
a shipmaster.

And so Maryam is full of employment, almost every day, knitting mittens
and long white scarves for babies and poor children. You never can
tell, He may be even here on the prairie, the Christ-child whom the
unwise old Baboushka disesteemed hundreds and hundreds of years ago.
You can never tell.

CHAPTER XXII

THE HERO PRIESTS OF THE NORTH

This they all with a joyful mind
Bear thro' life like a torch in flame,
And falling, fling to the host behind,
'Play up! Play up! and play the game!'--NEWBOLT.

"For long years," said a Toronto editor the other day, "this country
has produced few outstanding personalities except politicians."

Here spoke the little Canadian. By this country he meant the provinces
to the south of the Great Lakes. Think of that! Think of that!

Why, man dear, north of the lakes we have outstanding personalities to
burn--and we burn them. And, here and now, let me say that under the
northern lights, politicians must, perforce, take a third or even a
fourth estate, for always we have to reckon with the missionary priest,
the business man, and the real-estate agent, before we begin to
consider the politician. Even then, I am not so sure but the editor
and the railway boss take precedence of the politician. In this large,
airy land, politicians are truly but small fry from small
places--inconsequential ephemera, who