Louis was awake bright and early on that Christmas morning, though, as applied to the atmospheric conditions of that particular day, “bright” is a singularly inappropriate adjective. The snow fell, not merely in flakes, but in clouds, and whether “the opposite side of the street” was “over the way,” or in Farther India, was purely a matter of faith; to the eye it was perfectly invisible. “I don’t see how you are to get even as far as next door with those things,” said Metzerott, half in earnest, looking first at Louis, then at the blinding storm. “Oh! but, papa, I must take George and Frau Anna their presents,” cried Louis in dismay. “I don’t see why you _must_,” said his father. “Fritz will be in after his breakfast in a few minutes; he can take them.” Louis looked very grave; he turned and took up his picture of the Christ-child. It was prettily framed, and the inscription, with its letters of red, blue, and gold, encircled it like a glory. Alice had used German letters and the German version. =“Ehre sei Gott in der Höhe, und Friede auf Erden, und den Menschen ein Wohlgefallen.”= “I could not be a Christ-kind if Fritz took them in,” he said. Sally Price, who was busy over the frying-pan, while Polly stirred up the bread-sponge for the daily baking, which, as they had three families to provide for, might not be omitted, even on Christmas Day,—Sally Price dropped her iron spoon and held up her hands. “Well, if I ever did!” she said. “Do you want to be a Christ-child, you angel?” “Papa said I might, and Dr. Richards said, last night, the little boy in the picture looked like me, and I must try to be like him.” “Law!” interposed Susan, “I thought the doctor was one of these infidels.” “Infidel or not,” said Miss Sally, “he acts like a mighty good Christian.” “But talkin’ like that, Sister Sally”— “Talk! anybody can _talk_: and infidels often talk louder than Christians, about imitatin’ the Saviour, and such like. I s’pose they think nobody can keep ‘em up to it, if they don’t want to be kep’; while a member of the Church daren’t say much, for fear of folks sayin’ he has back-slid if he don’t live up to it.” “Can’t I go, papa?” asked Louis, to whom the foregoing had been simply wasted breath. “Of course, my son. I will carry you myself. We will show the good church members two more infidels who can keep up to their word without being kept.” “It’s just awful to think of that child being brought up to believe like that,” said Polly as she covered her sponge and set it away to rise. “Well, ’tis and ’taint, Polly,” answered Sally thoughtfully. “First place, he’s one of them children which of such is the kingdom of Heaven, and the good Lord will take care of his own; and, second, how better could he be raised than to want to be a little Christ-child, and ready to cry if he’s told he can’t?” “But he thinks it is all a fairy-tale.”