leaped up into the air, and vanished within this manger. Martha ran after her, "Oh, Minnie!" she remonstrated, peering in.
For Minnie, curled and purring, lay with her head upon the breast of a babe, asleep there in the golden grass of the manger.
It slept there, both arms outspread with open palms, in a posture of surrender, a rosy babe with a crown of yellow curls, slightly damp, about its brow. Its lips, half-open, let pass its breathing, light as a southern zephyr, but with inflections as of sighs. Beneath the long lashes of the closed eyes, violet shadows lurked, and the corners of the mouth drooped slightly, as though it had been weeping and were not yet consoled. It slept there, rosy upon the golden straw, its arms outspread; its bared little breast rose and fell, between the parted lips its breathing passed like sighs, and in the dicker of the lantern the shadows beneath the eyes, the shadows about the mouth, pulsed, now lighter, now darker. A majesty emanated from the little being. It was as if, asleep here in the subtle waves, there came to him, for him to suffer, all of the ache scattered that night over the vastness of the globe. Martha, leaning over breathless, felt gradually a desire strong as a pang mount through her being. She wanted to take up this sweet, ead babe and
