"The mother rose quickly and stirred the little fire. Already the kettle boiled, and the cup was set on the table with perhaps, unusual care. But the fare was indeed scant--a piece of bread cut off for the father before she had begun for the children and a bit of dripping. Meanwhile she was hastily putting on bonnet and shawl. "'Where to?' asked he, surprised; 'there ain't no hurry to get a bit of meat. The butchers will be open for hours yet; so sit still for once.' "'I shan't be a minute,' she said, and was gone before he could object. "It was not much more ere she appeared again, bringing in her hand a large loaf, and a herring which she immediately placed on the fire, while she cut some fresh slices of the day-old bread, with a heart filled with pleasure that she had it to give him. "'I've been looking at yon words,' he said, 'and they seem to say to me as we haven't thought so much of Him as we should, eh, old woman? We couldn't have a better day nor to-morrow to begin, eh?' "'I've begun to-night,' she said. 'I've forgot Him lately, but He ain't forgot me!'" * * * * * Alice looked up now, as Agnes finished her narration, and said wonderingly, "I can't think how you know it, Agnes." "I will not keep you in suspense then," she answered. "Mrs. Freeman came round early on Christmas-day to thank us for the things, and in a few simple words explained her despair and her comfort, and how the words, 'Come unto _Me_,' had put a new life before her, a life of rest and peace, even in the midst of outward turmoil. Our little effort for her, you see, did even more than we could have hoped." "Have you any more stories?" asked Hugh. "Not to-day. Minnie and I saw other things, but you will have to wait for those till we have another opportunity." [Illustration] [Illustration] CHAPTER XVI. _THE RAG CUSHION._ "Well, Agnes?" said John, one sombre afternoon soon after Christmas, as the brothers and sisters gathered round the fire with a heap of nuts each, which they intended to enjoy. "Well?" echoed Agnes. "Now for the stories of the other puddings." "Oh, very well," said Agnes; "to resume, then." * * * * * "After we had left Mrs. Freeman's door, Minnie and I went a little further up the street. We were not sorry, I assure you, to get rid of our first heavy parcel, for our arms ached with it. At last, in the wind, and rain, and darkness, we found the house where Mrs. Hales has her home. This, you must know, consists of one little stuffy room on the second floor. "We groped our way up the dark staircase, and, after some fumbling, we found the door of the back room and knocked at it. "A feeble voice bade us 'Come in,' and we found ourselves in the presence of the dear old woman. "'Well, my dear,' she said, holding out her thin hand, 'so you've come, like a Christmas blessing, to see me.'