"He knew best," said Mrs. Burton. "And while smart people everywhere were wondering what would or could happen to quiet the restless heart of people—"
"Izh restless hearts like restless tummuks?" interrupted Toddie. "Kind o' limpy an' wabbley?"
"I suppose so," said Mrs. Burton.
"Poor folks," said Toddie clasping, his hands over his waistband: "Izhe sorry for 'em."
"While smart folks were trying to think out what should be done," continued Mrs. Burton, "some simple shepherds, who used to sit around at night under the moon and stars, and wonder about things which they could not understand, saw a wonderfully bright star up in the sky."
"Was it one of the twinkle-twinkle kind, or one of the stand-still kind?" asked Toddie.
"I don't know," said Mrs. Burton, after a moment's reflection. "Why do you ask?"
"'Cauzh," said Toddie, "I know what 'twazh there for, an' it ought to have twinkled, 'cauzh twinkley star bobs open and shut that way 'cauzh they're laughin' and can't keep still, an' I know I'd have laughed if I'd been a star an' was goin' to make a lot of folks so awful happy. G'won."
"Then," said Mrs. Burton, looking alternately and frequently at the two accounts of the Advent, "they suddenly saw an angel, and the shepherds were afraid."
"Should fink they would be," said Toddie. "Everybody gets afraid when they see good people around. I 'spec' they thought the angel would say 'don't!' in about a minute."