Willy's heart was full of tenderness for his mother, whom he kept kissing fondly. Now was a good time to speak of the upright, deceitful sticks of wood, perhaps; but Mrs. Parlin did not do it. She began the Evening Hymn, and Willy sang with her:-- "Glory to Thee, my God, this night, For all the blessings of the light; Keep me, O keep me, King of kings, Beneath thine own almighty wings. "Forgive me, Lord, for thy dear Son, The ills which I this day have done, That with the world, myself, and Thee, I, ere I sleep, at peace may be." "Now, Willy," said Mrs. Parlin, pausing, "let us think a while, and try to remember what we have done to-day that is wrong. You think, and I will think, too." He looked up, and she knew by the cloud in his eyes that his conscience was troubled. "Well, I'll think. But _you_ haven't done anything wrong, mamma?" "O, yes, dear; many things." "Well, so've I, too. Want me to tell what?" "Not unless you choose, my child. Only be sure you tell God." They were silent a few moments. "There, that's the _last_ time I'll ever stand the sticks up on end in the wood-box," burst forth Willy. "I thought so," said his mother, kissing him. So she had known about it all the while! But not another word did she say; and they went on with the hymn:-- "Teach me to live, that I may dread The grave as little as my bed. Teach me to die, that so I may Triumphing rise at the last day." CHAPTER VIII. "THE NEVER-GIVE-UPS." "Now Christmas is come, Let us beat up the drum, And call our neighbors together; And when they appear, Let us make them good cheer, As will keep out the wind and the weather." This is what the old song says; but it is not the way the people of the new colonies celebrated Christmas. Indeed, they thought it wrong to observe it at all,--because their forefathers had come away from England almost on purpose to get rid of the forms and ceremonies which hindered their worship in the church over there. The Parlins, however, saw no harm in celebrating the day of our Saviour's birth, and Mrs. Parlin, who was an Episcopalian, always instructed Love and the boys to trim the house with evergreens, and put cedar crosses in the windows. Willy was glad whenever his grandfather Cheever happened to be visiting them at "Christmas-tide," for then he was sure of a present. Mr. Cheever was an Englishman of the old school, and prayed for King George. He wore what were called "small clothes,"--that is, short breeches, which came only to the knee, and were fastened there with a buckle,--silk stockings, and a fine ruffled shirt. His hair was braided into a long queue behind, which served Willy for a pair of reins, when he went riding on the dear old gentleman's back.