With exceeding great joy!  Ah! happy magi, who (more blest than Balaam the son of Beor) were faithful to the dim light vouchsafed to you; the Gentile Church may well be proud of your memory.  Ye travelled long and far to bring royal offerings to the King of the Jews, with a faith not found in Israel.  Ye saw Him whom prophets and kings had desired to see, and were glad.  Wise men indeed, and wise with the highest wisdom, in that ye suffered yourselves to be taught of GOD.

Then the parson prayed that if this were indeed a dream he might dream on; might pass, if only in a vision, over the hill, following the footsteps of the magi, whilst the Star went before them, till he should see it rest above that city, which, little indeed among the thousands of Judah, was yet the birthplace of the Lord’s Christ.

“Ah!” he almost sobbed, “let me follow!  On my knees let me follow into the house and see the Holy Child.  In the eyes of how many babies I have seen mind and thought far beyond their powers of communication, every mother knows.  But if at times, with a sort of awe, one sees the immortal soul shining through the prison-bars of helpless infancy, what, oh! what must it be to behold the GOD-head veiled in flesh through the face of a little child!”

The parson stretched out his arms, but even with the passion of his words the vision began to break.  He dared not move for fear it should utterly fade, and as he lay still and silent, the wise men roused their followers, and, led by the Star, the train passed solemnly over the distant hills.

Then the clear night became clouded with fragrant vapour, and with a sigh the parson awoke.

* * * * *

When the cracker snapped and the white end was left in the grandmother’s hand, she was astonished to perceive (as she thought) that the white lace veil which she had worn over her wedding bonnet was still in her possession, and that she was turning it over in her fingers.  “I fancied I gave it to Jemima when her first baby was born,” she muttered dreamily.  It was darned and yellow, but it carried her back all the same, and recalled happy hours with wonderful vividness.  She remembered the post-chaise and the postillion.  “He was such a pert little fellow, and how we laughed at him!  He must be either dead or a very shaky old man by now,” said the old lady.  She seemed to smell the scent of meadow-sweet that was so powerful in a lane through which they drove; and how clearly she could see the clean little country inn where they spent the honeymoon!  She seemed to be there now, taking off her bonnet and shawl, in the quaint clean chamber, with the heavy oak rafters, and the jasmine coming in at the window, and glancing with pardonable pride at the fair face reflected in the mirror.  But as she laid her things on the patchwork coverlet, it seemed to her that the lace veil became fine white linen, and was folded about a figure that lay in the bed; and when she looked