day to La Ferte
for pasteboard and gold paper; but, alas! none of us could draw, and
we had no model. I made one or two attempts, with anything but a
satisfactory result: all the points were of different lengths and
there was nothing but points (more like an octopus than anything
else). However, Pauline finally produced a very good one (it really
looked like a star), and of course the covering it with gold paper was
easy. The creche made a great effect, standing at the bottom of the
Tree with a tall candle on each side. All the big toys and clothes
were put on a table behind, where we all sat. Then the door was
opened; there was a rush at first, but the school-mistress kept strict
order. The little ones came first, their eyes round and fixed on the
beautiful Tree; then the bigger children, and immediately behind them
the "oldest inhabitants"--such a collection of old, bent, wrinkled,
crippled creatures--then as many as could get in. There wasn't a sound
at first, except some very small babies crowing and choking--then a
sort of hum of pleasure.

[Illustration: All the children in procession passed.]

We had two or three recitations in parts from the older scholars; some
songs, and at the end the "compliment," the usual thing--"Madame et
chere Bienfaitrice," said by a small thing about five years old,
speaking very fast and low, trying to look at me, but turning her head
always toward the Tree and being shaken back into her place by Madame
Isidore. Then we began the distribution--the clothes first, so as not to
despoil the Tree too soon. The children naturally didn't take the
slightest interest in warm petticoats or tricots, but their mothers did.

We had the little ones first, Francis giving to the girls and Alice to
the boys. Henrietta called the names; Pauline gave the toys to our two,
and Madame Isidore called up each child. The faces of the children, when
they saw dolls, trumpets, etc., being taken off the Tree and handed to
each of them, was a thing to remember. The little girls with their dolls
were too sweet, hugging them tight in their little fat arms. One or two
of the boys began to blow softly on the trumpets and beat the drums, and
were instantly hushed up by the parents; but we said they might make as
much noise as they pleased for a few moments, and a fine "vacarme" (row)
it was--the heavy boots of the boys contributing well as they moved
about after their trains, marbles, etc.

However, the candles wer