小说园

第53部分（第1页）

pheasants　footsteps　across　the　snow　imprinted　so　clear；　there

was　the　lobbing　mark　of　the　rabbit；　two　holes　abreast；　two　holes

following　behind；　the　hare　shoved　deeper　shafts；　slanting；　and

his　two　hind　feet　came　down　together　and　made　one　large　pit；　the

cat　podded　little　holes；　and　birds　made　a　lacy　pattern。

Gradually　there　gathered　the　feeling　of　expectation。

Christmas　was　ing。　In　the　shed；　at　nights；　a　secret　candle

was　burning；　a　sound　of　veiled　voices　was　heard。　The　boys　were

learning　the　old　mystery　play　of　St。　George　and　Beelzebub。　Twice

a　week；　by　lamplight；　there　was　choir　practice　in　the　church；

for　the　learning　of　old　carols　Brangwen　wanted　to　hear。　The

girls　went　to　these　practices。　Everywhere　was　a　sense　of　mystery

and　rousedness。　Everybody　was　preparing　for　something。

The　time　came　near；　the　girls　were　decorating　the　church；

with　cold　fingers　binding　holly　and　fir　and　yew　about　the

pillars；　till　a　new　spirit　was　in　the　church；　the　stone　broke

out　into　dark；　rich　leaf；　the　arches　put　forth　their　buds；　and

cold　flowers　rose　to　blossom　in　the　dim；　mystic　atmosphere。

Ursula　must　weave　mistletoe　over　the　door；　and　over　the　screen；

and　hang　a　silver　dove　from　a　sprig　of　yew；　till　dusk　came　down；

and　the　church　was　like　a　grove。

In　the　cow…shed　the　boys　were　blacking　their　faces　for　a

dress…rehearsal；　the　turkey　hung　dead；　with　opened；　speckled

wings；　in　the　dairy。　The　time　was　e　to　make　pies；　in

readiness。

The　expectation　grew　more　tense。　The　star　was　risen　into　the

sky；　the　songs；　the　carols　were　ready　to　hail　it。　The　star　was

the　sign　in　the　sky。　Earth　too　should　give　a　sign。　As　evening

drew　on；　hearts　beat　fast　with　anticipation；　hands　were　full　of

ready　gifts。　There　were　the　tremulously　expectant　words　of　the

church　service；　the　night　was　past　and　the　morning　was　e；　the

gifts　were　given　and　received；　joy　and　peace　made　a　flapping　of

wings　in　each　heart；　there　was　a　great　burst　of　carols；　the

Peace　of　the　World　had　dawned；　strife　had　passed　away；　every

hand　was　linked　in　hand；　every　heart　was　singing。

It　was　bitter；　though；　that　Christmas　Day；　as　it　drew　on　to

evening；　and　night；　became　a　sort　of　bank　holiday；　flat　and

stale。　The　morning　was　so　wonderful；　but　in　the　afternoon　and

evening　the　ecstasy　perished　like　a　nipped　thing；　like　a　bud　in

a　false　spring。　Alas；　that　Christmas　was　only　a　domestic　feast；