the trees, and soon everybody joined in.

"Hail Blessed Morn, by prophets' holy words foretold," rang out on
the air. A murmur of anguish came from the tree-trolls; they bowed
their heads so that their wicked eyes were no longer visible, and
drew in their claws under spruce needles and snow. When the last
measure of the first stanza died away, no one could have told that
there was anything besides ordinary old spruce trees on the forest
heights.


The torches that had lighted the Ashdales folk through the woods
were burned out when they came to the highroad; but here they went
on, guided by the lights from peasant huts. When one house was out
of sight, they glimpsed another in the distance, and every house
along the road had candles burning at all the windows, to guide the
poor wanderers on their way to church.

At last they came to a hillock, from which the church could be
seen. There stood the House of God, like acme gigantic lantern,
light streaming out through all Its windows. When the foot-farers
saw this, they held their breath. After all the little,
low-windowed huts they had passed along the way, the church looked
marvellously big and marvellously bright.

At sight of the sacred edifice Jan fell to thinking about some poor
folk in Palestine, who had wandered In the night from Bethlehem to
Jerusalem with a child, their only comfort and joy, who was to be
circumcised in the Temple of the Holy City. These parents had to
grope their way in the darkness of night, for there were many who