They were both singing; singing with the quavering voices of age, a song which they had brought with them from their far away youth in the beloved Fatherland. It was a song of Christmas joy which they had carolled many a time around a candle-lighted tree. Their voices were thin and tremulous, and broke now and then on the high notes, but it was a gay little tune, very sweet and full of cheer; and Mary, who stopped to listen just inside the gate, was thankful that they had not heard the latch click. When it came to an end she waited a moment, hoping there would be another verse, but they began to talk, and she started on up the path. But halfway to the house she paused again, for they had begun another song. "_Am Weinachtsbaum die Lichter brennen!_" Their voices came to a sudden stop at the end of that line, however, as they became aware of an approaching visitor. Mary hurried forward saying, "Oh, I understood one word of it. You were singing about a Christmas tree, weren't you? The children in the blue cottages across from us have been talking about a 'Weinachtsbaum' all week. Please don't stop. It sounded so sweet as I came in at the gate." At some other time the old couple might have been hard to persuade, but the holiday season was their high-tide of the year, and its return always swept them along with a rush of happy memories, to a state of enjoyment that was almost childish in its outward manifestation. Finding that Mary was really interested in hearing them talk of the customs of their youth, they began a series of reminiscences so interesting that she could have listened all day. Seventy Christmases they could remember distinctly, besides the dim impressions of several earlier ones. In the course of describing them it came about quite naturally that they should sing her the interrupted song. The old man, because he spoke better English than his wife, interpreted the verses first. But even his speech was halting and broken, and he pulled his white beard desperately, and used many despairing gestures when he could not find the right word. She, clicking her needles, kept up a constant nodding while he explained. "On the Christmas tree the lights are burning. The children gaze at the what you call it--picture--scene--till the eye laughs and the heart laughs and the old look Himmelwartz, heavenwards that means, with blessed rapture." "Yah, yah!" nodded the old wife, prompting him as he paused. "Zwei Engel"-- "Two angels appear," he repeated, going haltingly on with the next verse. Mary could not understand all that he tried to convey, but she caught the meaning of the last part, that the day brings God's blessing to young and old alike, to the white as well as the brown hair. "It is the same all over the world," he said, clearing his throat preparatory to singing the lines he had just translated.