al, by himself, with his harp on his knee and a great longing in
his heart. And there came a marvellous light in the sky and over the
hills, as if the darkness of the night had suddenly blossomed into a
wonderful meadow of flowery flame; and all the shepherds saw the angels
and heard them sing. And as they sang, the harp that the young shepherd
held began to play softly by itself, and as he listened to it he
realized that it was playing the same music that the angels sang
and that all his secret longings and aspirations and strivings were
expressed in it. From that night, whenever he took the harp in his
hands, it played the same music; and he wandered all over the world
carrying it; wherever the sound of its music was heard hate and discord
fled away and peace and good-will reigned. No one who heard it could
think an evil thought; no one could feel hopeless or despairing or
bitter or angry. When a man had once heard that music it entered into
his soul and heart and life and became a part of him for ever. Years
went by; the shepherd grew old and bent and feeble; but still he
roamed over land and sea, that his harp might carry the message of the
Christmas night and the angel song to all mankind. At last his strength
failed him and he fell by the wayside in the darkness; but his harp
played as his spirit passed; and it seemed to him that a Shining One
stood by him, with wonderful starry eyes, and said to him, 'Lo, the
music thy harp has played for so many years has been but the echo of the
love and sympathy and purity and beauty in thine own soul; and if at any
time in the wanderings thou hadst opened the door of that soul to evil
or envy or selfishness thy harp would have ceased to play. Now thy life
is ended; but what thou hast given to mankind has no end; and as long as
the world lasts, so long will the heavenly music of the Christmas harp
ring in the ears of men.' When the sun rose the old shepherd lay dead by
the roadside, with a smile on his face; and in his hands was a harp with
all its strings broken."

We left the fir woods as the tale was ended, and on the opposite hill
was home. A dim light in the kitchen window betokened that Aunt Janet
had no idea of going to bed until all her young fry were safely housed
for the night.

"Ma's waiting up for us," said Dan. "I'd laugh if she happened to go to
the door just as Felicity and Peter were strutting up. I guess she'll be
cross. It's nearly twelve."

"Christmas wil