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

quick short breath. Half mechani-
cally, he began to count them, for the
nearest he had ever come to cakes was
to count them. To be sure, he had
counted good many. Why, he had
been counting other peoples cakes all
his life.
! Two chocolates, two vanillas, two
walnut buns. two creamy pasties, and
one golden sponge cake, heart shaped.
He picked out a cream pastie and let
it lie on the palm of his hand. He
looked at it hungrily, but he did not
eat. He was thinking.
The child did not understand "You
funny boy, don't you like cakes? Oh,
you must like cakes. Everybody likes
cakes. Don't you like cakes? Now
IL love cakes"
She lifted chocolate cube and held
it out to him. Hansel blinked. Then
his teeth closed greedily over the
cream pastie and he swallowed it in
two bites After that he ate the cho-
colate cube slowly, IN little nibbles, to
make it last long, long time. But
he steadfastly refused third cake,
though the child had set her heart on
seeing him eat them all.
"But why not?'' she urged. But
why not?'
| Hansel shook his head. He would
not say so, but he was thinking
of the children at home, the chill
dren who had never had any cakes
while now he had had two.
"Perhaps he ought not to eat any
more," interposed auntie. "He is not
used to sweets We will make up
package for him to take home"
During the next hour Hansel lived
in whir. Auntie asked him to guide
them to the shops and to speak Ger
man for them. So up and down the
snowy streets they went, in and out of
shops that were fairly spillng over
with w,a'th of Christmas store. Han
sci had to tell where he lived and how
many children there were at home
and what his mother did all day.
He had never seen SO many things
in his life and he wondered what peo-
pie did with so many things; and
though at first they seemed very beau
tiful to him, after time he grew tired
| and bewildered and did not care about
them any more. He was longing for
the cake-shop window again. He was
beginning to be afraid lest the bells
should peal out for midnight mass,
and he not be there to listen for the
Christmas song in them; the song he
was always listening for, the song that
matched the story on the painted win
dows, that wonderful, wonderful song
that would never come quite to his
lips. Perhaps this time he might
capture it. Perhaps tonight at mid
night it might come to him and stay
with him forever.
At last they let him lead them back
to the bake-shop window and, saying
they were sure they could find their
way now, they left him there. They
went away so hurriedly that they did
not even bid him good night. He
thought they forgot. But he did not
mind. He was glad to lean his elbows
once more on the window-sil and his
forehead against the pane. With all
the poct-souls that ever were born he
felt, in vague halfunconscious way,
how it was better to be forever out
side in cold or in storm, with his
dreams, than inside with all the
''things" in the world, so lcng as they
were things only. For little Hansel
with his back that was queer, and his
face that was sharp and old, and with
his not-much- ofany- thing that-most-
people-care-about, was always happy,
because of that strange wonderful
wordless song ever singing itself in his
heart.
Passers-by jostled him. Shop-boys
trundled hand-drays filled with bulky
packages along the sidewalk. Every
body was busy and eager and hurried.
No one looked at him. He was only
one of many, child of the people.
Suddenly changed out on the frosty
air the first of the midnight bells. In
stantly a second joined it and in a
twinkle all four bells were ringing an
exultant peal, ringing it across the
valley to echo again from the hills,
echoing and ringing and singing the
glad tidings to all the world. lIanscl
did not miss the song in them, that
song that would sing in his heart
through all the days of the years Of
his life until Christmas Eve should
come again. He waited when the
bells were hUshed to hear the deep
organ tones send the same sweet song
reverb, rating through the air. Then
quietly he turned to 60 home.
The child caught his hand. Her
eyes were shining and her fair hair lay
about her so like luminous cloud
that he wondered if the young St.
Agnes ON one of the church windows
had come to life.
"Come!" she cried Il have been
waiting for you. Come with me ~