FullReads

“I expect He meant them to shoot,” said Laddie.

“Suppose they all shot, what jolly nights we should have!” cried Dimples.

“Yes,” said Laddie; “but after one night they would all have gone, and a nice thing then!”

“Well, there’s always the moon,” remarked Dimples. “But, Daddy, is it true that God listens to all we say?”

“I don’t know about that,” Daddy answered, cautiously. You never know into what trap those quick little wits may lead you. The Lady was more rash, or more orthodox.

“Yes, dear, He does hear all you say.”

“Is He listenin’ now?”

“Yes, dear.”

“Well, I call it vewy rude of Him!”

Daddy smiled, and the Lady gasped.

“It isn’t rude,” said Laddie. “It is His duty, and He has to notice what you are doing and saying. Daddy, did you ever see a fairy?”

“No, boy.”

“I saw one once.”

Laddie is the very soul of truth, quite painfully truthful in details, so that his quiet remark caused attention.

“Tell us about it, dear.”

He described it with as little emotion as if it were a Persian cat. Perhaps his perfect faith had indeed opened something to his vision.

“It was in the day nursery. There was a stool by the window. The fairy jumped on the stool and then down, and went across the room.”

“What was it dressed like?”

“All in grey, with a long cloak. It was about as big as Baby’s doll. I could not see its arms, for they were under the cloak.”

“Did he look at you?”

“No, he was sideways, and I never really saw his face. He had a little cap. That’s the only fairy I ever saw. Of course, there was Father Christmas, if you call him a fairy.”

“Daddy, was Father Christmas killed in the war?”

“No, boy.”

“Because he has never come since the war began. I expect he is fightin’ the Jarmans.” It was Dimples who was talking.

“Last time he came,” said Laddie, “Daddy said one of his reindeers had hurt its leg in the ruts of the Monkstown Lane. Perhaps that’s why he never comes.”

“He’ll come all right after the war,” said Daddy, “and he’ll be redder and whiter and jollier than ever.” Then Daddy clouded suddenly, for he thought of all those who would be missing when Father Christmas came again. Ten loved ones were dead from that one household. The Lady put out her hand, for she always knew what Daddy was thinking.

“They will be there in spirit, dear.”

“Yes, and the jolliest of the lot,” said Daddy, stoutly. “We’ll have our Father Christmas back and all will be well in England.”

“But what do they do in India?” asked Laddie.

“Why, what’s wrong with them?”

“How do the sledge and the reindeer get across the sea? All the parcels must get wet.”

“Yes, dear, there have been several complaints,” said Daddy, gravely. “Halloa, here’s nurse! Time’s up! Off to bed!”

They got up resignedly, for they were really very good children. “Say your prayers here before you go,” said the Lady. The three little figures all knelt on the rug, Baby still cuddling her Wriggly.

“You pray, Laddie, and the rest can join in.”

“God bless every one I love,” said the high, clear child-voice. “And make me a good boy, and thank You so much for all the blessings of to- day. And please take care of Alleyne, who is fighting the Germans, and Uncle Cosmo, who is fighting the Germans, and Uncle Woodie, who is fighting the Germans, and all the others who are fighting the Germans, and the men on the ships on the sea, and Grandma and Grandpa, and Uncle Pat, and don’t ever let Daddy and Mumty die. That’s all.”

“And please send plenty sugar for the poor people,” said Baby, in her unexpected way.

“And a little petrol for Daddy,” said Dimples.

“Amen!” said Daddy. And the little figures rose for the good-night kiss.