the father of the child. It is true that he went under, but he had genius once.
"The young woman still held the gun, and I knew that if she pulled the trigger, she would shoot all her pretty fowls. I made up my mind that I myself must kill the chicken, and I asked her for a knife.
"'Now, my dear, you are a young woman, and I am an old one. You must catch the chicken, and then you may go into the kitchen.'
"I will not tell you how I did it, though the recollection will always be with me and haunt me in my dreams at night. It was a very terrible thing for me to do, because I am a lover of all things that live, and I never willingly eat of food got by the sacrifice of life. Yet I made my heart hard and did it, thinking of the Child of our Hope, and that I had heard him cry.
"Afterwards she made the broth, while I sat beside the child's cot and tried to soothe him. The beautiful blue halo was always round his head, and the figure, the glorious blazing figure, poised over him. It made me brave and patient to see it there. When the mother came in, we tried to make him take the broth; but he would not. He fought against us, and for all that we could do he would not take it. After a while we gave it up and she took him in her arms and held him, singing little French songs to quiet him. I was not able to help her because I have no skill with little children. I
