CHRISTMAS 197 



her slender throat. I loved this style best, but 

 I could never believe that anything could be 

 prettier than Jane's white shoulders. 



The table was loaded, as Christmas tables 

 should be, and, as I asked God's blessing on it 

 and us, the thought came that the answer had 

 preceded the request and that we were blessed 

 in unusual degree. 



After dinner the rugs in the great room were 

 rolled up, and the young folks danced to Laura's 

 music, which could inspire unwilling feet. But 

 there were none such that night. Tom and Kate 

 led off in the newest and most fantastic waltz, 

 others followed, and Polly and I were the only 

 spectators. An hour of this, and then we gath- 

 ered around the hearth to hear Polly read " The 

 Christmas Carol." No one reads like Polly. 

 Her low, soft voice seems never to know fatigue, 

 but runs on like a musical brook. When the read- 

 ing was over, a hush of satisfied enjoyment had 

 taken possession of us all. It was not broken 

 when Miss Jessie turned to the piano and sang 

 that glorious hymn, "Lead, Kindly Light." 

 Jack was close beside her, his blue eyes shining 

 with an appreciation of which any woman might 

 be proud, and his baritone in perfect harmony 

 with her rich contralto. The young ladies took 

 the higher part, Frank added his tenor, and even 

 Phil and I leaned heavily on Jarvis's deep bass. 

 My effort was of short duration ; a lump 

 gathered in my throat that caused me to turn 



