him wondered, and said, "Surely he will have speech with the Christ Child."
The poet came with his book, and soldiers with gleaming swords, boasting of battles they had won, and all looked with eager eyes up and down the streets, each longing to be the first to see the Christ Child in all his beauty.
So, in their eagerness they pressed now this way and now that, heeding nothing but their one desire. The shivering beggar was jostled, the lame man was trampled under foot, and lay moaning in a doorway, and children were thrust aside from their eager gazing, and fell, weeping and disappointed, or fled from the stern presence of some blustering soldier, to hide in alleyways, praying that the little Christ Child would find them there, waiting to worship him.
Among the children was one braver than the others—little Karl. He had gone out with a glad heart, saying to his mother, "I will not come back, though I walk the streets all night, until I will see the Christ Child and gain a blessing for you and for me." But his mother kissed him fondly, saying, "Go my son, but do not grieve if you do not
