he was obliged to have recourse to her needle to eke
out the limited allowance, and every stitch she took was but an
additional reminder of the depth to which she was reduced.

To such a disposition the needle is but a weapon of despair, bringing
neither comfort nor hope, nor in any way lightening the burdens of
life. The recurrence of an anniversary was, to Mrs. Mulford's mind
like the unveiling of a monument to the departed, and was usually
spent in solitude and tears.

She had managed to exist through the Thanksgiving season, and Bridget
had done her best to make the occasion worthy to be remembered--by
the children at least; and if it hadn't been for that kitchen goddess,
I don't see how the house could have held together.

She had always some comical story to tell the children, something to
excite their wonder or admiration, and every few days would surprise
them with some fresh molasses candy or cunning little cakes baked in
curious patty pans.

Minnie and Maud rather enjoyed their poverty, as it allowed them more
freedom and exemption from little rules that society enjoined. It was
such fun to roll in the snow, and draw each other on the sled, without
any caution in regard to ruffles and frills that used to be such a
torment to them, and such a restraint on their buoyant natures.

[Illustration: Announcement to Shepherds]

Christmas was drawing near, and its approach filled Mrs. Mulford with
uncontrollable despondency. It had been a gay season in her young
days, and her own children knew it as the season of especial
rejoicings and unlimited toys and candies. Now it was all so changed!
Even a moderate expenditure was not to be thought of, when it was so
difficult to procure even the necessaries of life, and she really
wished the day was over, for she dreaded its arrival. The furniture
never looked so dingy and faded, nor the curtains so coarse, nor her
surroundings so pitiful, as when she looked around and thought that
Christmas was coming.

Neither did the past ever seem so beautiful and glowing as when she
cast a retrospective glance in that direction at this memorable
season. But in the kitchen all was animation and excitement; as
different an atmosphere as if there were ever so many degrees of
latitude between them; Mrs. Mulford occupying the frigid, and Bridget
the torrid zone. Every afternoon and early in the morning, Minnie and
Maud were down in a corner of the kitchen very busy over some mystery,