he morning he looked a differem
ry. His lips did not smile, but
'ere was a new and somber ligh
hining in his dark eyes. This tinv
is mother gazed at him in sorrow
la saw how worn she was, and ly
-I . . " - ■ *'. • —'
kissed her. “I cannot say I'm sorry,"
‘Ke’ hesitatetf. "ftof even now ctni
I tell you." His tunic was worn and
stained. He wore a ragged sheep
skin about his shoulders. On this
he sank down in his own comer and
wept to §leep. When he woke his
(ace was flushed and rosy. He knelt
on the floor and looked at the busy
street below. Then he opened his
Ups and a song of such Joy and pur
ity flowed out on the air as to make
everyone stop and listen. Up and up
soared the rapturous notes, seeming
to possess a visible radiance of their
own. Obed sang no words, but the
music charmed every ear that heard
it.
His mother stood behind him, her
hands for once idle at their task.
The tired lines on her face melted
into peace. Her eyes looked far
away. Clearer and clearer the ex
quisite melody continued, and died
on a faint sweet note of ecstasy.
People listening below shook their
heads and moved on as if awakened
from a dream.
"Where, my son, did you hear that
song?" Lara spoke in a whisper.
“In the skies, my mother. It
came with wings and trumpets."
GREETINGS
of the
SEASON!
In the true spirit of
the Holiday . . May
your Joy Bubble
High.
