And I, says MOTHER, have some Christmas bundles to tie up.  If Nurse Mary goes before I come back, will you both go quietly to bed like good children?

Yes, Mother, cry POLLY and JACK together.

Well, good night, then, Mary dear, says MOTHER.

Good night, Nurse Mary, says FATHER. Then Mother and Father both go out, the one to her own room and the other to the street.

Come, Nurse Mary, says JACK, you must take your medicine.

Do you suppose it is very bitter? asks NURSE MARY.

I think it is, says JACK, looking into the bottle and smelling it.  It looks bitter and it smells bitter.

But you mustn’t mind that, Nurse Mary, says POLLY; because it will make you well.

All right, says NURSE MARY.  Pour it out.

Then Polly holds the spoon, and Jack carefully pours the medicine into it.  Nurse Mary opens her mouth, swallows the dose, and makes a wry face, shuddering.

Was it horrid? asks JACK.

Horrid! answers NURSE MARY.

Do you feel better? asks POLLY.

I can’t tell yet, answers NURSE MARY.  I suppose I must wait a little for the medicine to work.

And while we are waiting, says JACK, tell us about when Father was a little boy.

So Nurse Mary sits down, and takes Polly on her lap, while Jack sits on a stool at her feet, and then NURSE MARY begins, When Dr. John was a very little boy—­

But, Nurse Mary, JACK says, interrupting, he wasn’t named “Dr. John” then, was he?

No, answers NURSE MARY, he was just “Master John” then.  Well, when he was a very little boy, so that I could carry him upstairs to bed without any trouble at all, he was the most beautiful boy you ever saw.  He had fat rosy cheeks, and fine big eyes, and stout little legs.

Was he big enough to walk, when you first took care of him? asks POLLY.

No, indeed, answers NURSE MARY; and the first time he ever went to a Christmas tree, I had to carry him.  I held him up to see the candles.

Did he like it? asks JACK.

I think that he was just a wee bit frightened, says NURSE MARY, but I’ll tell you what he did like.  You know the little figures of Mary and Joseph and the Christ Child in the manger, that you always set out on Christmas Day, with the cows and the sheep standing all about? The children both nod.  Well, when your father saw that, and heard your grandparents and all the older brothers and sisters singing “The Carol of the Friendly Beasts”—­just as you will sing it again tomorrow—­he held out his hands and danced up and down in my arms.  I tell you, I could hardly hold him.

Nurse Mary, says POLLY, won’t you sing us “The Carol of the Friendly Beasts” now?