s new sorrow seemed to be born every day; for Hans
was injured by a falling tree, and was brought home with both his legs
crushed, and laid helpless and moaning on the rough bed.

These were weary days for Christina; but she did not rebel, even when
Hans swore at her and the child, and made the place hideous with his
oaths.

"You brought us all these troubles, you wretched boy!" he would say.
"Don't talk to _me_ of patience. Why don't you pray to your angel for
curses, and then we may have some good luck again? As it is, you might
as well pray to the Devil himself."

But the child only drew Christina's head closer to his poor little
misshapen breast, and whispered to her, "It is not so, is it, little
mother?"

And she always answered: "No, dear heart. They are indeed blessings if
we will only recognize them. It we prayed only for happiness, we might
think the white angel heard us not; but we pray for blessings, and so
he sends us what we pray for, and what he sends is best."

Then again the boy's eyes shone with a great light, and there seemed a
radiance about his head; but Christina was kissing his shapeless little
hands and did not see.

One day Christina was returning with a fresh bundle of work in her
arms, when, just as she came in sight of the hut, she saw a pillar of
smoke rise black and awful to the sky from the rude roof of the place.

In a moment she felt a horrible fear for Hans and the child. Neither
of them could move; and must they lie helpless and forsaken in the face
of such a fearful death? She ran as though her feet were winged.
Nearer and nearer she came, and now she saw the flames rise and lick
the smoky column with great lapping tongues of fire.

Nearer and nearer she came, and the crowd of men about the hut stood
stricken and dared not venture in.

"It is of no use," they screamed. "We did not know soon enough, and
now it is too late; we should smother if we tried to save them."

But she tore her way through the crowd and flung herself into the
burning place.

Hans, writhing and screaming, had managed to drag himself near the
door; and thinking, "The child is more fit for heaven, I will save Hans
first," she lifted him in her arms and carried him outside. It was as
though some great strength had been given her, for she carried him as
if he had been a little child. Then into the hut she went once more,
and to the bed of the child. But now the flames were licking her feet,
and