Snow was falling. It was a great lark for Satan. Once or twice, as
he trotted along, he had to bark his joy aloud, and each time the
big cur gave him such a fierce growl that he feared thereafter to
open his jaws. But he was happy for all that, to be running out
into the night with such a lot of funny friends and not to know or
care where he was going. He got pretty tired presently, for over
hill and down hill they went, at that unceasing trot, trot, trot!
Satan's tongue began to hang out. Once he stopped to rest, but the
loneliness frightened him and he ran on after them with his heart
almost bursting. He was about to lie right down and die, when the
cur stopped, sniffed the air once or twice, and with those same
low growls, led the marauders through a rail fence into the woods,
and lay quietly down. How Satan loved that soft, thick grass, all
snowy that it was! It was almost as good as his own bed at home.
And there they lay--how long, Satan never knew, for he went to
sleep and dreamed that he was after a rat in the barn at home; and
he yelped in his sleep, which made the cur lift his big yellow
head and show his fangs. The moving of the half-breed shepherd and
the funeral dog waked him at last, and Satan got up. Half
crouching, the cur was leading the way toward the dark, still
woods on top of the hill, over which the Star of Bethlehem was
lowly sinking, and under which lay a flock of the gentle creatures
that seemed to have been almost sacred to the Lord of that Star.
They were in sore need of a watchful shepherd now. Satan was stiff
and chilled, but he was rested and had had his sleep, and he was
just as ready for fun as he always was. He didn't understand that
sneaking. Why they didn't all jump and race and bark as he wanted
to, he couldn't see; but he was too polite to do otherwise than as
they did, and so he sneaked after them; and one would have thought
he knew, as well as the rest, the hellish mission on which they