“Did you see the Christ-child, Lieb?” asked little Rosa, in a tone of awe.
“I saw a little blue angel with gold wings, quite up in the top of the tree,” answered Gottlieb; “only its face was turned the other way.”
“That was He!” cried Rosa, clapping her hands joyfully. “That was He! O how I wish I could see Him! Mina Schaeffer says it is He brings all the things,—only she says He will never come to us, because we are poor,—and it is only the rich ones He takes them to.”
“Fie, Rosa,” said Lina, reprovingly; “don’t you remember what die liebe Mutter said, how Jesus (He’s the Christ-child, you know) was very poor, and how the Holy Virgin laid Him in a manger when He was born. I don’t believe He would forget us because we are poor.”
“Will He come, then, do you think?” asked Rosa, eagerly. “Will He come this Christmas, if we are very good? Perhaps we were naughty last year,—I don’t remember,—and die Mutter said He don’t love us but when we are good. Let’s be very good now, and see if He will come.”
“I don’t believe it is the Christ-child does it,” said Gottlieb, who had been lying quite still, thinking, for some time. “I don’t believe it is the Christ-child does it at all. Mina Schaeffer knows nothing, and the little blue angel looked just like a doll. I’ll bet you it was Herr Westermann bought all those things, and Frau Westermann put them on the tree;—only she’s a little woman, I know, and the tree was very high. But, any way, I don’t believe it’s the Christ-child does it. Martin says it isn’t. They had a tree to Martin’s house once, and he peeped, and he thought he saw his mother; but then their tree was little, and Herr Westermann’s was ever so big.”
“Perhaps Frau Westermann had a ladder,” said Lina, coming to her brother’s assistance in his puzzle.
“A ladder! to be sure, so she must!” cried Gottlieb, much relieved. “Yes, you may be certain she had a ladder.”
“But the tree,” put in little city-bred Rosa; “where would he get the tree?”
“Pshaw, stupid!” answered her brother, impatiently; “don’t the trees grow, and couldn’t he cut one and bring it home on a dray?”