The Prince George's enquirer and southern Maryland advertiser. (Upper Marlborough, Md.) 1882-1925, 1901-12-20

She ran before him across the street
and up the long fight of steps. Wait
ing on the topmost step and dancing
up and down on restless feet, she heard
the slow crunch, crunch OF of his cruch
on the frozen snow. To the child, as
long as she lived that grinding crunch
of little wooden cruch in the snow
would be part of the Christmast song
and story.
AS he hobbled up the steps she
opened the door of his home and drew
him gently in.
What did it all mean? Hansel was
such day-dreamer that it would
never have surprised him to see his
dreams come true. Indeed, the sur,
prise was usually the other way. But
now he rubbed his eyes and pinched
himself to make sure he was awake.
For here, in the centre OF their one
crowded room, rose a slender fir-tree,
all covered with flecks of wool, like
snow, and hung with things that glis-
tened and things that shook, and with
long shining threads of angel hair.
The many children were hopping
about, on one leg mostly, bashful and
bewildered, but happy as happy could
be. All at once, breaking upon their
low cries Of delight, weary step was
heard toiling up the stair, and the
mother came in. She carried her
heavy baby on one arm, an empty
basket on the other. Her shoulders
dropped and there were hard-worn
lines on her face. But as tue door
swung open and she stepped across
the threshold, suddenly her face BEAM
ed, and the tired lines smoothed off as
though loving hand had passed over
them.
"My cbildren!" she cried; "what is
this? Comes the Christ-child to US
God forgive me, had forgotten that
he could. But yes, yes, the little
Christ-child comes to erybody; even
to us, my children, even to us"
Auntie beckoned to the child and
softly they slipped away, closing the
door behind them.
"Oh auntie, oh auntic,' cried the
child II said my Christmas was spoilt
but-why, auntie, it is the most beau
tilul Christmas | ever had in all my
life"
Auntie smiled. There was a new
song in her car tonight, that singing
cry of the tired mother:
even to US! Even to us!''
Uansel's mother was not tired any
more when she tossed her baby up to
the tree and let it pull at the angel
hair with its little human hands. Nor
when her eyes followed the many
children as they went hopping about,
on two legs apiece now, discovering
new treasures and shrieking their little
happy shrieks at every hop.
They found a shawl for the mother
who must 60 to work in the cold of
dawn and return in the cold of night.
How they wrapped it about her and
hugged her in their rough little arms
and made her torget-everything, ex-
cept that she had them and was glad.
They found muff1ers and caps for the
boys, gay-colored kerchiefs for the
girls, a soft knitted hood for the baby
and a great horn-of- plenty, filled with
candy and nuts, for every child of
them all.
Their Christmas dinner had not been
forgotten. On the table was piled a
great heap Of German sausage, some
coffee in paper bag, wedge of Swiss
cheese and huge loaf of black bread.
Last of all was pretty basket of fruit
and Hansel's own package of cakes.
Hansel got down on his hands and
knees and crcpt up close under the
tree He wanted to feel of it to make
sure it was real. Even now, though
his warm new muller was around his
neck and the many children were
shouting for joy and their one room
was filled with light as never before,
the boy half-feared to wake in the dark
and find it all dream. So he separ-
atcd himself from the others and crept
in close under the tree and waited.
Something caught his eye. 1t was
a small, fiat something, shaped like a
slate, and it was wrapped in white
paper and tied with silken cord. 1t
lay in the fork of a branch close in
against the stem, behind the things
that slittered and the things that shook,
and it was almost hidden under a
golden cloud of angel-hair. The mo-
mcnt he saw it Hansel felt it was tor
him, and, lifting it from the crotch, he
slowly spelled out what was written
across it in a round, childish hand.
For dear Hanscl, his own self"
With trembling fingers he united
the ribbon and drew out the "some-
thing" from its white paper wrapper.
lie held it in his hand for a moment.
What could it be? Why, it Was a
painting, painting on wood, and
why, it was the same picture as that
in the bakc.shop window, only it was
l.n.,,>. zoo r,nl1 tb;s i,o bo l,wl "