d on the verge of a lachrymose explosion.

Mike's face was very red but it was also very hopeful.

"Jim said to tell ye," he mumbled. "She ain't never had no Christmas an'
the minister he said the order was all boys an'--an' she cried, so Mom
said bring her anyway in my ol' suit--you'd never know,
an'--an'--an'--Oh, my gosh!" finished Mike tragically, "Muggs is a girl.
Her--her name's C-c-c-c-clara!"

The Doctor jumped. So did Muggs. The lachrymose explosion came and the
drum slipped down from the shoulder of Muggs with a clatter.

"Don't wanta go home!" came the heartbroken wail, "don't wanta go home.
Mom Murphy'll git me."

"I--I tol' her," explained Mike uncomfortably, "that she mustn't open
her mouth once--jus' act deaf an' dumb or you'd guess maybe an' send
her home an' Mom Murphy'd git her. An'--an'--she must take a drum like a
boy--"

Literal Muggs! Heaven alone knew by what other blood-thirsty threats
than Mom Murphy Mike had encompassed the stony silence and frenzied
drumming of the little sister who had never had a Christmas.

"But why," burst forth the despairing Doctor. "In heaven's
name--why--Muggs?"

"She makes such awful faces," said Mike apologetically. "Mom don't know
what makes her that way." And then as Muggs was at the climax of one of
the spasms that had won her her name, the Doctor suddenly lifted her in
gentle arms and tossed her to the ceiling.

"Poor, poor little kiddy!" he said huskily. "What a price she's paid for
her Christmas."

But Muggs had forgotten the price. Though it had been a hard day the
Doctor's eyes were kind and twinkly. Muggs buried her flushed and
tearful little face on his shoulder with a sigh of content. He saw now
that one knot of ribbon on the tousled, sunny curls would have told the
story, then he glanced at the bagging suit and opened the door. Muggs
went forth upon the Doctor's shoulder.

"Asher," cried the Doctor, "hitch old Polly to the sleigh and telephone
Sam Remsen that he can oblige me for once and open his store."

"Ye--ye ain't goin' to send her home, are ye?" faltered Mike.

"I'm going," cried the Doctor, "to buy Clara Muggs a dress and a doll.
It's her night."

The boys cheered.

End of Project Gutenberg's When the Yule Log Burns, by Leona Dalrymple

*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WHEN THE YULE LOG BURNS ***

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