"She is tired to death," said the little girl.
"Really and truly?" exclaimed Shamruck.
"Yes, and they buried her," said the child.
Shamruck did not say anything for a few moments, and then he asked, "Did you come here to spend Christmas?"
"Christmas?" said the child, drowsily. "Is it anywhere near Christmas?"
"Why, yes," said the giant. "Don't you know that?"
"No," replied the little girl, "I had forgotten all about it. I used to remember when Christmas came, but for the last two or three years mother told me I had better try to forget it. I did try, but I found it right hard to forget Christmas. I always remembered it a little until this time."
"Poor child!" thought the giant. "It must be very hard to be obliged to forget Christmas when you want to remember it. Now, as for me, I'd be very glad to forget it if these people would only let me. But I must be going. Little girl," he said aloud, "wouldn't you like to take a nap?"
The little girl did not answer, for she was already taking a nap. She had thrown herself back upon the giant's knee, and was sleeping soundly. Shamruck looked down upon her and smiled.
"She must be very tired," he said to himself. "I'll put her down in the middle of my bed." But when he attempted to take her in his hands, the child turned over and looked so troubled at having her sleep disturbed that Shamruck let her lie where she was. "She will wake up after a while," he said, "and then I'll put her in my bed." But the little girl slept soundly a long time, and Shamruck sat and looked at her, and thought what a pity it was that there should be such creatures in the world as himself and this little girl who could not enjoy Christmas when it came. "It should not come at all," he thought, "when it only makes us feel how lonely and miserable we are." Once again he tried to move the little girl, but she turned over with such an impatient gesture, and such a troubled look upon her sleeping face, that he could not bear to disturb her.