that she thought about it,--she remembered that they bought him a pair
of skates that year. He had made a great time over those skates, and
had taken his little sister out to see him try to use them. Ned was
so loving and gentle in those days. And then the mother's heart
reproached her. Could she blame her boy because he seemed to care so
little for his parents and his home, when she had nursed her grief for
the loss of her baby-girl, and taken no pains to be bright or cheerful
with him? She thought how clearly Mamie had told the story of the
Savior's birthday. Could her boy, who was six years older, do as well?
He went to Sunday-school sometimes, but she had never talked with him
about Jesus--never since God took her Polly. And her eyes filled as
she shut the drawer.

Mrs. Huntley went back to the kitchen, but the room seemed different
to her. Ned brought in the milk, and looked at his mother curiously
at hearing her say, "Thank you, Ned." Wonders would never end, Ned
thought, when, after tea, she said, "Father, it's a moonlight night;
couldn't you and I drive to the village? Ned will excuse our leaving
him alone."

"Excuse!" When had his mother ever asked him to excuse her? And then,
as mother waited for the wagon to be got ready, she asked him to read
about the Savior's birth, and surely there were tears in her eyes as
father came in, just as Ned read, "And they came with haste and found
Mary and Joseph, and the babe lying in a manger."

Mr. Huntley was bewildered, too. To start off for the village at seven
o'clock in the evening! When had such a thing happened?

On the road Mrs. Huntley told her husband what Mamie had said to her,