shawl over her head, she ran across the snowy
fields to the old tumble-down house on the next road, where the new
family lived. The children were at play in the yard--seven in all, and
none of them larger than Hope--but at sight of her they came forward
hand in hand, jabbering such queer gibberish that Peace could not
understand a word.

"Come over to my house and have some dinner," she invited them, but not
one of them moved a step. "We've got a whole platter of stewed rabbit,"
she urged, but they only stared uncomprehendingly. "Perhaps you have had
your dinner. Are you hungry?"

"Hungry," suddenly said the oldest boy, putting one hand to his mouth
and the other on his stomach. "Ja, sehr hungrig."

Peace was delighted with the pantomime method of making herself
understood, and imitating his motions, she pointed to the little brown
house and beckoned.

"Ja, ja," cried the chorus of seven, their faces beaming with pleasure,
"wir kommen." And they quickly followed her across the snow to the
kitchen door.

"Gail, I have brought the Christ Child," she announced, as she ushered
the ragged, hungry brood into the house. "I thought it was a pity to
waste all that salt and pepper you used in fixing up Winkum and Blinkum,
so I invited these ragged beggars over to eat it up."

Mrs. Grinnell gasped her surprise and consternation. Faith exclaimed
angrily, "Peace Greenfield!" But Gail, with never a chiding word, sprang
to the table and began clearing away the soiled dishes, while Hope ran
for clean plates; and in short order the seven little towheads were
hovering around the platter of stewed rabbit and creamed potatoes,
revelling in a feast such as they had never known before; nor did they
stop eating until every scrap of food had vanished. Then they rose,
bowing and smiling, and trying in their own tongue to thank their
hostesses for the grand dinner.

Peace was captivated with their quaint manners and reverent attitude,
and when they had backed out of the door, she went with them to the
gate, kissing her hand to them as they disappeared down the road, still
calling over their shoulders, "Du bist das Christkind!"

"I don't know what they are saying," she murmured, "but it makes me feel
like flapping my wings and crowing." She leaped to her tall gatepost to
give vent to her jubilant feelings, but tumbled quickly to the ground
again without stopping to crow. "Abigail Greenfield!" she shouted,
racing for the house. "See wha