When Master Bo got home, he tried to sneak up to his room, but his mother caught him on the stairs, such a sight as he was! mud, slime, weeds clinging to his soaking clothes.

Hetty raised her hands, horrified at the condition of her favorite.

"Whar yous done ben? you is getten' dreadful. Dat's de second big sc.r.a.pe yous been in since you' sister been away."

"Why, Hetty!" exclaimed Mrs. Allen. "What else has Bo been doing? I hope you are not keeping things from your mother, my son. I fear something is very wrong with you. Did you get to confession last week?"

"Mamma, I was going, but Father Clement was so cross to a fellow, who did a couple of mortal sins, and the fellow said he got pitched out of the box, so I got afraid."

Ma--Did the boy tell you what the sins were?

Bo--I asked him, but he looked at me with such a face, and called me a "greeny."

Ma--Oh, you should not have asked him.

Bo--Well, I just wanted to know if his sins were like mine. I couldn't dare to go to confession, if he got put out for only two mortal sins, I would catch it, for I have committed such a pile of them.

Ma--Merciful goodness, child! When did you commit the sins? I was sure you told me all your thoughts and actions of each day.

Bo--I do pretty much, Ma, dear, but you see I have not been having many talks with you at night for a long time. You let me say my prayers alone.

Ma--My darling, I have been attending to poor, sick Papa, but I am sorry if my negligence has caused you to be careless about your conscience. Do tell me what sins you have committed.

Bo--Well, you know that night I came home late? I did not actually tell a lie, but I twisted the truth. Ma, dear, if I tell you all about that day, promise you won't get angry--Father Clement says anger is a mortal sin.

Ma--Never mind that, I take care of my own conscience, just tell me about that day.

Bo--Well, then, I went up to St. Thomas' as you know, after luncheon, while waiting for the train to come home, a freight car pa.s.sed and slowed up. I heard a fellow say, "h.e.l.lo," I said "h.e.l.lo," too, and when I looked up at him, I saw he was a friend of mine.

Ma--A friend of yours!

Bo--Yes, Ma, dear, I often see that fellow when I am waiting at the station; his name is Warner. He let me on his train several times.

Ma--Oh, my son! how could you be so disobedient! Getting on trains when you know I have strictly forbidden it.

Bo--I know it was an awful mortal sin, and I came near being made to repent of it all my life. One of the college boys had made me mad, that was the reason I started for home. When I got to the station, Warner was standing on his train, he said: "h.e.l.lo! are you the little kid that helped me stoke the fire last fall?" I said I wasn't a kid now; I was ten years old. "That's so," said he, "come to look at you, you're round as a barrel, but you ain't growed taller." Then I told him to shut up, and he said: "Oh, don't get mad, just step inside the caboose, I'll give you a ride to Dorton, and you can walk back home." I got into the caboose, and Warner laughed and talked, and I never felt the time going until we came to a standstill and I found myself at Lockfaren.

Ma--Great goodness, Bolax, it is a wonder you were not killed! Oh, how could you be so wicked, and who helped you home?

Bo--I never thought of the wickedness until I saw where I was. Warner laughed at me, and said I was big and fat enough to walk home. Then I said to myself, "ha! ha! old fellow, now you're in a fix. I can never walk twenty miles." Lockfaren is only a flag station, there was no light--not a house to be seen, only the thick woods all around. My heart stood still with fear. When I found myself stranded in that lonely place, I knelt down and made an act of contrition for all my sins, then I begged our Blessed Lady and St. Joseph to help me. I expected some wild beast would come out of the woods and kill me, for wild cats have been seen in that neighborhood. Suddenly it came to my mind to pray to the Angel Guardian, for the Engineer on the next pa.s.senger train that would pa.s.s, to make a stop. Oh, how I prayed! even more fervently than when I am sick, and you know how wonderfully I can pray then. Well, after a long wait in the pitch dark, for it was cloudy, and not even a star to be seen, I heard the welcome sound of a whistle, a bell rang, and I knew a train was coming. Sure enough it did come and stopped. The conductor and three men got out, each with a lantern, began examining the wheels; I jumped on the car, and when the conductor came in, I walked up to him and told the whole story. He listened and said: "Well, little man, it seems we stopped in direct answer to your prayer. Just as we reached Lockfaren, the Engineer warned me that the Wheels were grating as if there was a 'Hot box.' When we examined them, nothing was wrong." I thanked the Conductor and told him my name and where he could see my father to get the fare, but the kind man said he was only too glad to have rescued me. "I have a little boy of my own, so my heart warms to all boys, and I firmly believe kind Providence watches over them; in your case the stopping of the train seems almost a miracle in answer to your earnest prayer."

Ma--Why did you not tell me all this before?

Bo--Oh, dear Ma! I did not want to worry you. Papa was sick and Amy and Aunt Lucy away from home. It's no use scolding me now, it happened two months ago.

Ma--I know it happened two months ago, but dear, you should never hide anything from your mother. That good conductor should have been seen by your father, and thanked for his kindness, if not substantially rewarded.

Bo--Well, here is his card; I wish you or Papa would write to him and pay my fare. Kiss me, darling mother, and forgive me, and pray that I may never commit a mortal sin again.

CHAPTER X.

CHRISTMAS AND "LITTLE CHRISTMAS" OR KING'S DAY.

Christmas Eve had come and the children were at last asleep, dreaming of the pleasures in store for them on the morrow. Mrs. Allen and her sister sat by the fire completing a handsome smoking robe for Mr. Allen.

The clock struck twelve, in soft, silvery chimes as the robe was folded and tied on the tree.

Miss Lucy drew aside the curtain to look out upon the night. The snow had ceased falling, and now lay in feathery drifts on the silent village like a pure white veil, tracing graceful patterns among the dark trees on the hill-side, While the stars above had the brilliancy of extreme cold.

"Hark! What was that?" said Mrs. Allen. "Surely not our bell at midnight? Let us call d.i.c.k; I'm afraid to open the door."

Mr. d.i.c.k and Hetty came running down and turned on the electric light.

To the astonishment of all, on the porch stood a young woman with an infant in her arms. Mrs. Allen brought her in, asking no questions, for the poor creature was speechless with cold. Lucy took the baby, it opened its eyes and smiled, seeming very comfortable. Hetty gave the woman a hot drink, and Mrs. Allen took off her wet shoes and clothing, and gave her a warm foot-bath, then she was wrapped in a blanket and made to lie down on the sofa before the fire. The poor soul was so exhausted she fell into a profound sleep.

The good people then began to realize what they were doing, to ask themselves how the woman could have selected their house for a shelter.

"Oh, let us thank our Lord," said Mrs. Allen. "He has given us the privilege of harboring the harborless." "Mrs. Allen," remarked Hetty, "dis is just like dat verse you done teached Miss Amy: 'To shelter de Holy wanderers on dat blessed Christmas night.' Don't you know, at fust, I thought it was the Holy Virgin and little Jesus. Well, I say it's for luck dat baby's come to dis house."

"Lucy," said Mrs. Allen, "you had better go to bed; that you may be able to get up in the morning to take the children to Ma.s.s. It is absolutely necessary one of us should remain home to care for our unexpected guests."

At five o'clock in the morning, Pat came into the kitchen to say the sleigh was ready if the folks were going to early Ma.s.s. "Turn your back and shut you' eyes," called out Hetty. Pat, supposing she had a Christmas gift for him, did as he was bid.

"Is you' eyes tight shut, Pat?" "Faith and they couldn't be tighter, but hurry up, the folks'll be wantin' the sleigh in a minute." Hetty took the sleeping babe and laid it in the old man's arms, then told him to look. Pat stared in utter surprise, his eyes and mouth wide open. Hetty stood laughing at his discomfiture, when he could speak, he exclaimed: "Holy saints! where did this come from?"

"De Christ-child sent it twelve o'clock last night." "May the Lord bless us," said Pat, "but it's a quare thing entirely yees are telling me. Here, take the darlint; I must be gettin' off or we'll be late for Ma.s.s."

Mrs. Allen called the children before five o'clock, bidding them hurry downstairs, as she had a surprise for them. Hetty carried the babe into the library and laid it on the table under the electric light, its eyes were open, but it lay perfectly still.

As the children caught sight of the little figure they were transfixed with astonishment. Amy made the sign of the cross; for the moment she thought only of the Infant Jesus, then examining closer, she saw it was a real live baby. "Of course," said she, "I might have known the Infant Jesus would not come to us, we are not holy enough." Bolax kissed the little thing, saying "Isn't it a dear! Mamma, are you going to keep it?"

"Come, now," called Aunt Lucy, "we must not be late for Ma.s.s; when we get home we will hear all about the wonderful baby." On the way to church, Aunty explained how it came that the poor mother was in the house, and no doubt would be able to tell why she sought shelter under their roof.

"Well," exclaimed Pat, "may G.o.d bless yees all for the most warm-hearted family I ever met. None of yees will ever be in want of a roof to cover you, for surely the dear Infant Jesus will not forget your many great acts of Charity."

At seven o'clock Hetty took some breakfast up to the woman, and brought her baby to be nursed. She seemed greatly refreshed and said she was able to get up. "Don't you stir, honey," said Hetty, "unless you is real able, if you is, Mrs. Allen wants to see you in de library." Having dressed herself and attended to her baby's wants, Hetty took her downstairs.

Mrs. Allen asked the woman's name and questioned as to the reason for selecting this house in which to take refuge.

"Indeed, ma'am, I'll tell you how it was, but first let me thank you; sure it's no wonder the station-man spoke so highly of your charity."

"Say nothing about that; I only wish I had it in my power to do more."

"Well," continued the woman, "my name is Mary Ryan. My husband was killed a month ago; he fell off a scaffolding while painting a house. I stayed with his people after his death, but they soon let me see I wasn't welcome, so I went to an intelligence office to look for a place.

The man made me pay him a dollar, then he gave me the address of a Mrs.

Clarkson out here near the station. He said they especially wanted a woman with a child because such are willing to stay in the country.

"I paid my fare out and got here at three o'clock, it was daylight then, and I hunted high and low for Mrs. Clarkson, but no one had ever heard of such a person. I didn't know where to go, so I remained in the station as it was snowing hard. The watchman was so kind. He gave me a sandwich and asked me if I had nowhere to stop for the night. I told him just how it was with me. He said: 'A friend of mine just happens to be outside with his sleigh and I'll tell him to take you where you'll be well treated.'