o I am going down the lane for some
mistletoe that grows in one of the highest trees. The berries are like
lovely white wax beads."

"You are a good little lad," said the housekeeper, kindly, as she gave
his head an affectionate pat. "I shall have to make something to hang on
that tree myself; some gingerbread figures, maybe. I used to know how to
cut out men and horses and pigs,--nearly all the animals. I must try it
again some day soon."

A happy smile spread all over Jules's face as he thanked her. The words,
"You are a good little lad," sent a warm glow of pleasure through him,
and rang like music in his ears all the way down the lane. How bright
the world looked this frosty December morning! What cheeriness there was
in the ring of Henri's axe as he chopped away at the stove-wood! What
friendliness in the baker's whistle, as he rattled by in his big cart!
Jules found himself whistling, too, for sheer gladness, and all because
of no more kindness than might have been thrown to a dog; a pat on the
head and the words, "You are a good little lad."

* * * * *

Sometime after, it may have been two hours or more, Madame Greville was
startled by a wild, continuous ringing of the bell at her front gate.
Somebody was sending peal after peal echoing through the garden, with
quick, impatient jerks of the bell-wire. She hurried out herself to
answer the summons.

Berthe had already shot back the bolt and showed Clotilde leaning
against the stone post, holding her fat sides and completely exhausted
by her short run from the Ciseaux house.

"Will madame send Gabriel for the doctor?" she cried, gasping for breath
at every word. "The little Monsieur Jules has fallen from a tree and is
badly hurt. We do not know how much, for he is still unconscious and his
uncle is away from home. Henri found him lying under a tree with a big
bunch of mistletoe in his arms. He carried him up-stairs while I ran
over to ask you to send Gabriel quickly on a horse for the doctor."

"Gabriel shall go immediately," said Madame Greville, "and I shall
follow you as soon as I have given the order."

Clotilde started back in as great haste as her weight would allow,
puffing and blowing and wiping her eyes on her apron at every step.
Madame overtook her before she had gone many rods. Always calm and
self-possessed in every emergency, madame took command now; sent the
weeping Clotilde to look for old linen, Henri to the