lly put in the spade for the last bit of earth.

"Go'-night for to-day," he called back to Boerje for the second
time.

"Go'-night," returned Boerje, "and thanks to you for the help. Now I
must hurry along and get my rye. Another time I'll give you a lift,
be sure of that!"

"I don't want any pay ... Go'-night!"

"Don't you want anything for helping me?" asked Boerje. "What's come
over you, that you're so stuck-up all at once?"

"Well, you see, it's--it's the lassie's birthday to-day."

"And for that I got help with my digging?"

"Yes, for that and for something else, too! Well--good bye to you!"

Jan hurried away so as not to be tempted to explain what that
_something else_ was. It had been on the tip of his tongue to say:
"To-day is not only Glory Goldie's birthday, but it's also the
birthday of my heart."

It was as well, perhaps, that he did not say it, for Boerje would
surely have thought Jan had gone out of his mind.

CHRISTMAS MORN

Christmas morning Jan took the little girl along with him to
church; she was then just one year and four months old.

Katrina thought the girl rather young to attend church and feared
she would set up a howl, as she had dime at the vaccination bee;
but inasmuch as it was the custom to take the little ones along to
Christmas Matins, Jan had his own way.

So at five o'clock on Christmas Morn they all set out. It was pitch
dark and cloudy, but not cold; in fact the air was almost balmy,
and quite still, as it usually is toward the end of December.

Before coming to an open highway, they had to walk along a narrow
winding path, through fields and groves in the Ashdales, then take
the steep winter-road across Snipa Ridge.

The big farmhouse at Falla, with lighted candles at every window,
stood out as a beacon to the Ruffluck folk, so that they were able
to find their way to Boerje's hut; there they met some of their
neighbours, bearing torches they had prepared on Christmas Eve.
Each torch-bearer led a small group of people most of whom followed
in silence; but all were happy; they felt that they, too, like the
Wise Men of old, were following a star, in quest of the new-born
King.

When they came to the forest heights they had to pass by a huge
stone which had been hurled at Svartsjoe Church, by a giant down in
Frykerud, but which, luckily, had gone over the steeple and dropped
here on Snipa Ridge. When the church-goers came along, the stone
lay, as usual, on the gr