Very lovely were their flower faces, you may be sure; and their best clothes, new on for the occasion, were all the scarlets, blues, and golds that you can imagine. Their light wings, too, were folded closely about them and over their chests, for it was cold; and the snow and the moonlight were of course strange to them, and a little frightening besides; and so they ran tippity-tiptoe, each carrying her harp.
Now there sat in the wood, on the stump of a tree, a freckled little pagan faun; he was a very little one, and he was feeling very lonesome, for his family had been a bit out of it for the last year or more, and so there he sat alone. Occasionally he blew himself a few notes on his whistle for company, and between whiles he blew on his fingers to keep them warm.
Presently he saw the three little seraphs running tippity-tiptoe, and he thought that he"d never seen anything solovely before, and he longed to be their playmate.
"Oh, you lovely little girl nymphs," said he (for he knew no better), " where are you going?""Oh, you little pagan faun," said the biggest one of the three little seraphs, "we are going to sing carols to the Babe.""May I not come with you?" asked the little faun, ever so humbly; "I can"t sing carols, but I can play tunes on my whistle.""No, indeed, you little pagan faun," replied the biggest one again, "certainly not;" and her two little sparkly sisters said, "What an idea!" and then they all ran on, more tippity- tiptoe than ever, and came to the Babe"s abode.
And then they stood up, outside in the snow, and sang their carols more clearly and sweetly than thrushes.
And this is what they thought as they were singing:
The first one thought, "How beautifully I"m singing to-night, and how pleased the Babe will be to hear me !"The second one thought, "How sweetly I make my harp to ring, and how happy the Babe must be listening to it!"The third one thought, "How becoming to me are these beautiful clothes I have put on in the Babe"s honour, and how he"ll clap his hands to see me!"Thus then they thought as they sang together moreclearly and sweetly than thrushes.
And in the sharp blue shadow of a pine-tree sat the little faun, who had followed them there, far off and unseen by them, and his heart was in his little pagan throat, for never had he heard such tunes or seen such flower-faces in all the forest.
And when the carols were sung the biggest little seraph went to the door and knocked, and the Lady of the House, who was the Babe"s Mother, opened it and stood there holding the Babe to her heart; and very sweet and kindly she looked with the firelight about her, and her little son sitting, grave and sleepily grey-eyed, in her arms.
And the three little seraphs all curtseyed down to the snow, very low indeed, and then they all said together, "We wish you a merry Christmas, and we hope you liked our carols."Now as a matter of fact the Lady and the Babe hadn"t heard the carols at all, not a note of them, though the singers had sung them more clearly and sweetly than thrushes; and this was, as the Lady knew at once and you will probably guess, because the three little self-esteeming seraphs had thought all the time only of their own sweet singing, their own sweet harping, and their own lovely new clothes, and thus had rendered their music mute to those in whose honour it was intended.
But the Lady of the House was too kind and gentle to say this, for she hated to hurt anyone, and the seraphs were really rather little darlings after all, and meant very well. So she said"Thank you kindly, my dears"; and to her little son she said, "Say "Thank you"," and the Babe said " Thank you" (for he could just talk a little), speaking very clearly, gravely, and politely.
And then she gave each of the three a bit of the Babe"s birthday cake, although it was a day too soon to cut it, and wished them a merry Christmas, and they ran off, tippity- tiptoe again, through the cold and the moonlit wood, their lovely wings folded over their chests, until they came to the purple stairway, up which they ran, twinkling like stars, as fast as they"d run down it.
And, when they"d gone and the house door was shut again, the little faun trotted timidly out of the shadows, and began to blow a little tune on his whistle all about the summer and the hills, of the sheep and the little woolly lambs; and as he played he thought to himself thus:
"That was the most beautiful little boy shepherd I have ever seen, but he looks very grave, and I should love to make him laugh; so I will try very hard indeed to play my best for him, though he will think it very poor stuff after the carols."Now, he hadn"t played more than half his tune beforethe Lady came to the door of her own accord and said, "Oh, you funny little faun, please to come in out of the cold and finish the pretty tune that you are so kindly playing to us in the kitchen."So the faun stamped the snow off his hoofs and came in and put his whistle to his lips and played his tune so merrily that the Babe laughed with delight, like robins singing; and the Lady laughed too, as gaily as a girl.
And when he"d done she gave him an extra big bit of birthday cake, and he asked, "Please, my lady, mayn"t I stay here for always?"And the Lady said very gently, "No, my dear, that can"t be; you must go back to the wood and play your tunes to the rabbits and the shepherds and the shadows of the trees, and so help to make the world laugh and go round. But," she added, "you shall come and stay with the Babe and me when the world"s gone round often enough; and a merry Christmas, my dear, and thank you."Now you may not be able to believe that the Lady promised the little pagan faun anything of the sort, but I can assure you she did; and he trotted off into the woods again, munching his cake and feeling much comforted, just as the clocks were striking twelve and it was Christmas Day.
From London Punch