And you'll remember about Santa Claus?" said little
Mamie, as she walked away with her cookies.
Mrs. Huntley worked on for a few minutes longer, and then, leaving her
dishes, she went to her own room and opened a bureau drawer. There
lay a bright little dress and pretty white apron,--Polly's best
things,--the little clothes in which she used to look so lovely. There
were the last Christmas toys the mother had ever bought,--only a
little tin bank, a paper cornucopia, and a doll; but she remembered
that Christmas so well! Could it be that it was only three years ago?
How Polly had laughed and chattered over her stocking! And Ned,--now
that she thought about it,--she remembered that they bought him a pair
of skates that year. He had made a great time over those skates, and
had taken his little sister out to see him try to use them. Ned was
so loving and gentle in those days. And then the mother's heart
reproached her. Could she blame her boy because he seemed to care so
little for his parents and his home, when she had nursed her grief for
the loss of her baby-girl, and taken no pains to be bright or cheerful
with him? She thought how clearly Mamie had told the story of the
Savior's birthday.
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