As well as she could, Maggie explained, drawing some from her imagination, some from what Miss Morgan had told her, and some from faint remembrances of a time when her mother, who died at Bennie’s birth, had taught her of God and Heaven. Half convinced, half doubtful still, Bennie tried again, and said, “Our Father, if you is my father, and was oncet a little boy like me, give me something to eat and some gooder trouses and shoes, and a pair of lines on the tree when you have your birth night.”

“For Christ’s sake; say that,” Maggie whispered, and Bennie rejoined, “Who’s he! I shan’t do it. I’m not goin’ to get ’em mixed, I’ll stick to Our Father.”

And surely the good Father, who is so kind and pitiful to the little ones, heard that prayer of the ignorant child, and would in His own time and way answer it.

CHAPTER II.
BENNIE’S FIRST CHRISTMAS.

The snow had fallen all day long, and from the window of his wretched home Bennie had watched the feathery flakes as they fell in perfect clouds, covering the old lumber yard where only yesterday he had gathered his basket of wood and chips, covering the tow path which skirted the canal, and covering the roofs of all the houses as far as he could see. It was the first genuine snow of the season, and he wanted to enjoy it as he saw some school-boys doing on the bridge, but his toes were out of his shoes, and his elbows were out of his jacket and there was that little hacking cough to which he was subject every winter, and which this season was worse than usual and kept him awake at night. He had learned that wet feet and chilled limbs increased it, and he dreaded to lie all day long in that dreary little bed-room, with no fire and nothing pleasant to look at. From his mother, who had been his father’s superior in every respect, he had inherited a love of the beautiful, an appreciation of comfort and pretty things, which made the squalor around more offensive, and he could not endure the thought of being sick again, as he was a month ago, when he was soaked in a rain and had the cough so badly; and then, he wanted to go to the Christmas-tree that night, and Hetty had said that he “should not stir a step if there was any sign of his coughing, for she would not be bothered with a sick young one again.” So, lest he should take cold and cough Bennie staid in doors all day and watched the falling snow, and late in the afternoon hailed with delight a rosy cloud in the west which said the storm was over. It was not very cold, and when the sun went down and the full moon rose up over the carpet of pure white snow Bennie thought he had never seen so beautiful a night, or felt as happy as he did when starting for the church, with Maggie as his chaperone. She had been three times to Sunday school and when Miss Morgan asked for the little boy seen that cold day in the lumber yard, Maggie had told her of his ragged clothes and worn-out shoes, and Miss Nellie, who was like an angel of mercy in the homes of the poor, had made a note of it; determining after Christmas was over to find the child and do what she could for him.

It was early when Maggie and Bennie entered the church, but they found it nearly full, and abashed at the sight of so many strangers and attracted by the heat of the registers Bennie insisted upon staying by them, near the door where he was jostled by the crowd and jeered at by some thoughtless boys who made fun of his old clothes and asked “what he would take for himself, rags and all.” But Bennie bore their jeers meekly and only doubled his fist once, so intent was he upon the tree in the chancel, bending with its hundreds of gifts. He had never dreamed of anything like that, and his belief in Bethlehem’s baby grew stronger as he saw this tangible commemoration of his birth night. How fine it all was, and how splendidly the rector looked in his white robe, and how grandly the music of the organ rolled through the aisles, making the floor tremble under his feet, and causing him to start a little and look down to see what was the matter. And when the children began one of their Christmas carols and sang of the “Silent night, the holy night,” Bennie felt a strange thrill creep over him and every nerve quivered with excitement as he listened to the words:

“All is calm,—all is bright

· · · · ·

Glories stream from Heaven afar,