It was very fine in the church. Hundreds of wax candles were burning in
their places, and the air was so warm that Wolff soon forgot his aching
fingers. The boys sat still for a little while; and then while the singing
was going on and the organ was making loud music, they began in low voices
to talk to one another; and each told about the fine things that were
going to be done at his home on the morrow.
The mayor’s son told of a monstrous goose that he had seen in the kitchen
before he came away; it was stuffed, and stuck all over with cloves till
it was as spotted as a leopard. Another boy whispered of a little fir tree
in a wooden box in his mother’s parlor; its branches were full of fruits
and nuts and candy and beautiful toys. And he said that he was sure of a
fine dinner, for the cook had pinned the two strings of her cap behind her
back, us she always did when something wonderfully good was coming.
Then the children talked of what the Christ Child would bring them, and of
what He would put in their shoes, which, of course, they would leave by
the fireplace when they went to bed. And the eyes of the little fellows
danced with joy as they thought of the bags of candy and the lead soldiers
and the grand jumping jacks which they would draw out in the morning.
But little Wolff said nothing. He knew that his selfish old aunt would
send him to bed without any supper, as she always did. But he felt in his
heart that he had been all the year as good and kind as he could be; and
so he hoped that the blessed Christ Child would not forget him nor fail to
see his wooden shoes which he would put in the ashes in the corner of the
fireplace.