Page:The art of story-telling, with nearly half a hundred stories, y Julia Darrow Cowles .. (IA artofstorytellin00cowl).pdf/265

 trees of June. It covered the house roofs and glorified the trees. It hung jewels above the windows of the poor, and softened the lowliest hut to the white beauty of a palace.

And through the beautiful white pathway of the snow a herald rode, and cried that to-*night the dear Christ Child would walk through the streets, and even as the falling snow made all barren and ugly things lovely, so would the Christ Child's coming glorify the souls of them that met him aright, and they would be forever blest who should gain speech with him.

No wonder that a million candles lighted the streets. No wonder that great and proud, rich and poor, the sick, the old, and the lame thronged the white beauty of the streets and wandered up and down, wondering and waiting.

The King came forth in royal robes with a throng of courtiers at his back. He bore himself proudly, and proudly he waited.

The priest was there, bearing the blessed cross, and lifting prayerful eyes to the white sky.

The great singer came, singing his loveliest songs in tones so sweet that all who heard