“He longed to be a choir boy once more, but he was timid and bashful and feared to make any effort in this direction in a strange city.
“As he pondered on how to gain the coveted position, he watched the tree being stripped of its fruit and placed in many outstretched hands.
“He gazed wistfully on the joyous scene, but was suddenly startled by a flash of light, which, from his position, he saw was a thread of flame leaping upwards toward the Christmas Angel.
“There was but one thing to do, and he was the one to do it. Without a thought for himself he sprang for the pole, hung by his toes, and in an instant the flaming branch was broken from the tree and crushed in his hands.
“Below a quick cry of ‘Fire!’ rang out, then was heard the shriek of a child.
“Jack knew the impending panic must be averted instantly, and as he swung up on to the pole, he wound his limbs about it, and there perched in the topmost branches, a veritable Christ Child, he sang, as he never sang before, the Christmas Lullaby.
“The cries below ceased. The audience stared in amazement. Had he fallen from the blue skies painted on the ceiling by a master hand or had one of the Murillo angels, hovering amongst the billowy clouds, come to life?
“Those who heard never forgot the pathos of the plaintive melody.
“The choirmaster listened breathlessly, for here was the soloist he had for months been vainly seeking.