when the sun had set there was nothing for it, but as soon as the few
cattle had been foddered in their shed and cave, to draw the mat and
sheepskins that made a curtain by way of door, fasten it down with a
stone, share with dog and cat the supper of broth, or milk, or
porridge which Patience had cooked, and then lie down on the beds of
dried leaves stuffed into sacking, drawing over them the blankets and
cloaks that had happily been saved in the chest, and nestling on
either side of the fire, which, if well managed, would smoulder on
for hours. There the two elder ones would teach Rusha her catechism
and tell old stories, and croon over old rhymes till both the little
ones were asleep, and then would hold counsel on their affairs,
settle how to husband their small stock of money, consider how soon
it would be expedient to finish their store of salted mutton and pork
to keep them from being spoilt by damp, and wonder when their hens
would begin to lay.

It could hardly be a merry Christmas for the poor children, though
they did stick holly in every chink where it would go, but there were
not many berries that year, and as Rusha said, "there were only
thorns."

Steadfast walked to Bristol through slush and mire and rain, not even
Smith Blane went with him, deeming the weather too bad, and thinking,
perhaps, rather over much of the goose at home.

Bristol people were keeping Christmas with all their might, making
the more noise and revelry because the Parliament had forbidden the
feast to be observed at all. It was easy to tell who was for the
King and who for the Parliament, for there were bushes of holly,
mistletoe, and ivy, at all the Royalist doors and windows, and from