" Carmencita nodded at the stars. "I've prayed a good many
times before and nothing happened, and I don't know why all this
beautifulness should have come to me, and Mrs. Beckwith, who is good
as gold, though a poor manager with babies, shouldn't ever have any
luck. I don't understand, but I'm awful thankful. I wish I could let
God know, and the Christ-child know, how thankful I am. Maybe the way
they'd like me to tell is by doing something nice for somebody else. I
know. I'll ask Miss Parker to supper Christmas night. She's an awful
poky person and needs new teeth, but she says she's so sick of mending
pants, she wishes some days she was dead. And I'll ask the
Damanarkist. He hasn't anywhere to go, and he hates rich people so
it's ruined his stomach. Hate is an awful ruiner."
For some moments longer Carmencita sat in huddled silence, then
presently she spoke again.
"I didn't intend to give Miss Cattie Burns anything. I've tried to
like Miss Cattie and I can't. But it was very good in her to send us a
quarter of a cord of wood for a Christmas present. She can't help
being practical.
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