"I," said the doctor presently, striking the burning Yule-log until the
golden sparks flew out, "I charge thee, log, to burn out old wrongs and
heart-burnings!" and then, in accordance with a cherished custom of his
father's he followed the words with a wish for the good of his
household.

"And I," said old Asher as he struck the log, "I wish for the good of
the horses and cows and all the other live things and," with a terrific
chuckle of mystery, "I wish for things aplenty _this_ night."

"And I," said old Annie, with a terrible look at her imprudent spouse as
she took the poker, "I wish for the harvest--and wit for them that lack
it!"

But Roger had the poker now, his black eyes starry.

"I--I wish for more kind hearts like Aunt Ellen's and the Doctor's," he
burst forth with a strangled sob as the sparks showered gold, "for
more--more sisters like Sister Madge--" his voice quivered and
broke--"and for--for all boys who cannot walk and run--" but Sister
Madge's arm was already around his shoulders and the old Doctor was
patting his arm--wherefore he smiled bravely up at them through
glistening tears.

"Now, now, now, little lad!" reminded the Doctor, "it's Christmas eve!"
Whereupon he drew a chair to the fire and began a wonderful Christmas
tale about St. Boniface and Thunder Oak and the first Christmas tree. A
wonderful old Doctor this--reflected Roger wonderingly. He knew so many
different things--how to scare away tears and all about mistletoe and