"No, mother, I'm afraid not."
"Well, I never, playing again, I suppose? Now, what can be the use of playing, I should like to know?"
This was an exceptionally stupid question; for most people know that little folk cannot grow mentally without play, any more than flowers can grow without sunshine. "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy," is not only a proverb, but it is true as well.
It was Christmas Eve. Hansi trembled with excitement. "What's the use of getting so lively, Hansi?" said her big brother Paul despondently. "You know quite well that we are not to have any tree this year. I shall get a new pair of boots, and you a pinafore; these we should have to have anyway. That's not what I call a merry Christmas."
"But the bells are ringing, don't you hear them? and don't you think you can see just a glimmer of silver through the door?" said Hansi.
The children looked—well, really, perhaps there was a tree there after all.
Just then their father came in tired, but jolly. "Is everything ready? It is late, I have been detained so long," he said. "Can we go in at once?"
"I haven't got a tree this year," whispered his wife in an anxious voice. "I thought we couldn't afford it. What's the use of a Christmas tree? We can spend our money in a more practical way!"
"What nonsense. No Christmas tree! but of course you are joking," said her husband. "I will slip in, and light the candles." And with these words he disappeared into the inner room, now so mysterious to the waiting children.