"You see we can make believe there are windows and doors and a roof," she
said, "and it's just as good. Now, let's make believe there is a bed in
this corner, and we will lie down to sleep."

And Tottie obediently couched himself in the allotted corner and shut his
eyes very hard, though after a moment he remarked that the snow got into
his neck.

"You must play it isn't snow--play it's feathers," said Elsie.

"But I don't like it," persisted Tottie, "it don't feel a bit like
feathers."

"Oh, well, then," said Elsie, accommodating herself to circumstances,
"let's play get up now and I'll get breakfast."

Just now the door opened again, and the sexton began sweeping the refuse
out of the church. There were bits of ivy and holly, and ruffles of
ground-pine, and lots of bright red berries that came flying forth into
the yard, and the children screamed for joy. "O Tottie!" "O Elsie!" "Only
see how many pretty things--lots and lots!"

The sexton stood and looked and laughed as he saw the little ones so
eager for the scraps and remnants.

"Don't you want to come in and see the church?" he said. "It's all done
now, and a brave sight it is. You may come in."

They tipped in softly, with large bright, wondering eyes. The light