“The lowing cattle meekly stood
Near to a manger rough and rude....”
On and on goes the sweet childish voice to the end.
“And the time will come, so the wise men say,
When the wolf and the lamb together shall play,
And a little child shall lead the way,
The child of that first Christmas morning.”
“Pshaw!” says Father, poking the fire to hide the tender mist in his eyes. “You couldn’t forget that if you tried!”
“Of course you couldn’t,” Mother reassures. “Only remember to speak loud enough that they can hear you in the back of the church.”
“And all the girls have new dresses,” Alice exclaims, coming excitedly down to earth again. “And I said I had one too. That wasn’t a fib, was it, Mother? It really is new, for me, even if it is Aunt Jennie’s old one dyed.”