“Where—what?” asked the lady, ever so surprised.
“There on the wall,” cried Bunny Face, running quickly past the amazed group and stopping in front of the portrait of a beautiful person in white with flowers in her hair.
“You silly boy!” said Madam Iceberg. “That’s only my portrait—when I was married.”
“Oh, it’s not you,” said Bunny Face, giving her a long look and shaking his head. “It’s the Spirit of Christmas. I’ve found her, I’ve found her!” he cried, jumping about and clapping his hands.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about at all, Mr. Bunny Face, but come over here and sit down, and we’ll hear all about it.”
“Well, there’s lots about it,” said Bunny Face; “and you’re in it, too, for you aren’t going to have any Christmas—you, and the school janitor, and the dump children, and Agnes, and me—none of us are going to get presents.”
Then Bunny Face told her about Agnes, and the Parson, and the dump children who didn’t believe in Santa Claus or anything. “That’s about all,” he said, “except Santa Claus’ house, and I couldn’t find that.”
So Bunny Face stood up and said he must go, and when he looked back Madam Iceberg had sunk down deep in her chair, so that he could hardly see her. But the Spirit of Christmas on the wall looked like a white angel.
Something exciting and most surprising happened the next day. The school janitor, Old Crab, was in jail. Yes, sir; and the big boys were down there trying to see him through the bars. He had been caught in Madam Iceberg’s house the night before, stealing. The servants found him as he was getting away with a big roast under his arm.
Everybody was wondering what she would do about it. Would she have him let off maybe, because it was so near Christmas? But nobody really expected her to do that. And just then the Parson came walking along with his sister, and this one and that one told him that he was the very person to go up and talk to the madam about letting the janitor go. It was his duty. But he shook his head and said that “it wouldn’t do a bit of good, not a bit!” But his sister said, “Oh, Archibald, do!” So he went, the poor man.