the men about who had no wives, and in this way she earned enough to
buy food and wood. It was very little she could earn, and she often
grew impatient at the sight of Hans smoking idly in the doorway; but
when she said a hasty word the boy's eyes seemed to grow big with a
deep trouble, and she would check herself and work on in silence. But
the more she worked, the idler grew Hans and the more ill-tempered; and
he would laugh when he heard them pray to the angel to bless them.
Instead of blessings 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