Then
their mother came to them smiling, a sweet-faced lady who seemed not to
notice the red faces and the tears. She put something into Tom's hand
saying, "This is the Christmas Angel of peace and good-will. Hang it on the
tree, children, so that it may shed a blessing on all who come here to give
and to receive."
How lovely and pink it looked in Tom's hand! Little Angelina had thought it
the most beautiful thing she had ever seen,--and holy, too, as if it had
some blessed charm. Fiddlestick! What queer fancies children have! Miss
Terry remembered how a strange thrill had crept through Angelina as she
gazed at it. Then she and Tom looked at each other and were ashamed of
their quarrel. Suddenly Tom held out the Angel to his sister. "You hang it
on the tree, Angelina," he said magnanimously. "I know you want to."
But she--little fool!--she too had a fit of generosity.
"No, you hang it, Tom. You're taller," she said.
"I'll hang it at the very top of the tree!" he replied, nothing loath.
Eagerly he mounted the step-ladder, while Angelina watched him enviously,
thinking how clumsy he was, and how much better she could do it.
How funny and fat Tom had looked on top of the ladder, reaching as high as
he dared! The ladder began to wobble, and he balanced precariously, while
Angelina clutched at his fat ankles with a scream of fright.
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