that he had deemed it useless to whisper it into his
mother's ear.

For a long while he did not move at all, but just looked and looked,
seemingly afraid to touch the new toy. Then a warm flood of joy shot
through him, and suddenly he was seized by an irresistible impulse to
kiss his father--which was a most unusual endearment between them. As he
put his hand on the table to get off the chair, it touched the trough,
and once more his mood changed. He seemed to stiffen, and all he could
do was to hold out his hand and whisper:

"Thank you very much, papa!"

IV

On Christmas Day morning everybody rose while it was still pitch dark
outside. After a hasty cup of coffee, the parents and Keith set off for
Great Church to attend _julotta_--yule matins--an early service held
only that one day of the year.

More snow had fallen, and now it was freezing, so that every step they
took produced a peculiar, almost metallic crunching. From every quarter
silent crowds in their holiday best streamed toward the old church. They
seemed very solemn, but Keith sensed the happy spirit underlying their
outward sedateness. It filled him with a wild desire to romp, and it was
merely the awe of his father's presence that kept him in check.

The church was packed, but they found good seats. Keith had eyes for one
thing only: the Star of Bethlehem that blazed above the screen of darkly
green spruces surrounding the altar. All the rest of it was lost on him.

Then the organ music burst forth, and for a moment he cowered as under a
blow. It was too much of a novelty, and the vibrations touched his
supersensitive nerves annoyingly. After a while he grew more accustomed
to it, but he did not like it, and he said so loudly enough to bring him
a stern glance from his father and smiles from some of the people in the
pew ahead. During the brief sermon he slept peacefully.

As soon as they were home again, the fortress was brought out and
preparations made for a great siege. In the midst of it he left his
corner to put a question to the mother, who was dozing over a book in
her easy chair.

"How could papa know that I wanted it," he asked, and she knew what he
was thinking of.

"Don't you remember," she answered smiling slyly, "how you came home one
day last summer and talked about something you had seen in a window on
West Long Street, and papa was listening."

"So long ago," mused Keith, "and I didn't know he heard it."

"Oh, yes, he