r six common fellows are
sitting round the blazing wood. One might fancy they had stepped
straight from the church floor to the stage, so natural do they
look. Besides, they call themselves by common names--Colin, and Tom
Lie-a-bed, and nimble Dick. Many a round laugh wakes echoes in the
church when these shepherds stand up, and hold debate about a stolen
sheep. Tom Lie-a-bed has nothing to remark but that he is very
sleepy, and does not want to go in search of it to-night; Colin cuts
jokes, and throws out shrewd suspicions that Dick knows something of
the matter; but Dick is sly, and keeps them off the scent, although
a few of his asides reveal to the audience that he is the real
thief. While they are thus talking, silence falls upon the
shepherds. Soft music from the church organ breathes, and they
appear to fall asleep.

The stage is now quite dark, and for a few moments the aisles echo
only to the dying melody. When, behold, a ray of light is seen, and
splendour grows around the stage from hidden candles, and in the
glory Gabriel appears upon a higher platform made to look like
clouds. The shepherds wake in confusion, striving to shelter their
eyes from this unwonted brilliancy. But Gabriel waves his lily,
spreads his great gold wings, and bids good cheer with clarion
voice. The shepherds fall to worship, and suddenly round Gabriel
there gathers a choir of angels, and a song of 'Gloria in Excelsis'
to the sound of a deep organ is heard far off. From distant aisles
it swells, and seems to come from heaven. Through a long resonant
fugue the glory flies, and as it ceases with complex conclusion, the
lights die out, the angels disappear, and Gabriel fades into the
darkness. Still the shepherds kneel, rustically chanting a carol
half in Latin, half in English, which begins 'In dulci Jubilo.' The
people know it well, and when the chorus rises with 'Ubi sunt
gaudia?' its wild melody is caught by voices up and down the nave.
This scene makes deep impression upon many hearts; for the beauty of
Gabriel is rare, and few who see him in his angel's dress would know
him for the lad who daily carves his lilies and broad water-flags
about the pillars of the choir. To that simple audience he
interprets Heaven, and little children will see him in their dreams.
Dark winter nights and awful forests will be trodden by his feet,
made musical by his melodious voice, and parted by the rustling of
his wings. The youth himself may return t