paralyzed, bedridden man in the little cabin, whose fire was often low,
and whose board was often without bread; for there was a buyer from
Antwerp who had taken to drive his mule in of a day for the milk of the
various dairies, and there were only three or four of the people who had
refused his terms of purchase and remained faithful to the little green
cart. So that the burden which Patrasche drew had become very light,
and the centime pieces in Nello's pouch had become, alas! very small
likewise.

The dog would stop, as usual, at all the familiar gates which were now
closed to him, and look up at them with wistful, mute appeal; and it
cost the neighbours a pang to shut their doors and their hearts, and let
Patrasche draw his cart on again, empty. Nevertheless, they did it, for
they desired to please Baas Cogez.

Noel was close at hand.

The weather was very wild and cold; the snow was six feet deep, and the
ice was firm enough to bear oxen and men upon it everywhere. At this
season the little village was always gay and cheerful. At the poorest
dwelling there were possets and cakes, joking and dancing, sugared
saints and gilded Jesus. The merry Flemish bells jingled everywhere on
the horses; everywhere within doors some well-filled soup-pot sang and
smoked over the stove; and everywhere over the snow without laughing
maidens pattered in bright kerchiefs and stout kirtles, going to and
from the mass. Only in the little hut it was very dark and very cold.

Nello and Patrasche were left utterly alone, for one night in the week
before the Christmas Day, death entered there, and took away from life
forever old Jehan Daas, who had never known life aught save its poverty
and its pains. He had long been half dead, incapable of any movement
except a feeble gesture, and powerless for anything beyond a gentle
word; and yet his loss fell on them both with a great horror in it; they
mourned him passionately. He had passed away from them in his sleep,
and when in the gray dawn they learned their bereavement, unutterable
solitude and desolation seemed to close around them. He had long been
only a poor, feeble, paralyzed old man, who could not raise a hand in
their defence; but he had loved them well, his smile had always
welcomed their return. They mourned for him unceasingly, refusing to be
comforted, as in the white winter day they followed the deal shell that
held his body to the nameless grave by the little gray church. The