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McTarrens's four, and the six Blickers, and the ashman's eight, and the Roysters, and little Sallie Simcoe, and old Mr. Jenkinson, and Miss Becky who mends pants and hasn't any front teeth, and Mr. Leimberg. I'd get him specs. He has to hold his book like this" and the palms of two little red hands were held close to Carmencita's eyes. "Oh, Father, please let him go!"
"It's a great comfort, praying is." Carmencita's hand was taken out of her pocket and slipped through the arm of her disillusioned friend. "Sometimes you're just bound to pray. It's like breathing you can't help it. It it just rises up. I prayed yesterday for for something, and it pretty near happened, but " "And you think your praying helped to make it happen!" Mr.
Miss Barbour's hand closed over Carmencita's twisting ones, and into her face again sprang color; then she laughed. "We are very hungry, Mr. Van Landing. Would you mind sitting down so we can have lunch?" An hour later Carmencita leaned back in her chair, hands in her lap and eyes closed. Presently one hand went out. "Don't ask me anything for a minute, will you? I've got to think about something.
"I haven't thought yet. Where do you suppose? She ought to rest." "Rest!" Carmencita's voice was shrilly scornful. "Rest on Christmas eve. Besides, there isn't a spot to do it in. Every one has bundles in it." Hands clasped, her forehead puckered in fine folds, then she looked up. "Is is it a nice house you live in? It's all right, isn't it?" "It is considered so. Why?"
In a few moments Carmencita's hands were outstretched, and, giving one to each, she led them to the table, and at it he sat down as naturally as though it were a familiar occurrence. In the center was a glass jar with a spray of red geranium in it, and behind the earthen tea-pot the child presided with the ease of long usage.
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