son of his had been very lame. It was the first Christmas in his life,
indeed, that he had walked.

"Out there," said the Doctor, "the winter twilight's been fighting the
alder berries with purple spears. It's conquered everything in the
garden and covered it up with misty velvet save the snow and the
berries. But the twilight's using heavier spears now and likely it'll
win. _I_ want the alder berries to win out, drat it! Their blaze is so
bright and cheerful."

Roger accepted the challenge to argument with enthusiasm.

"_I_ want the twilight to win," he said.

The Doctor looked slightly scandalized.

"Oh, my, my, my, my!" he said. "I can't for the life of me understand
any such gloomy preference as that. Bless me, if I can."

"Why," crowed Roger jubilantly, "_I_ can, 'cause the more twilighty it
gets, the more it's Christmas eve!"

The Doctor regarded his small friend with admiration.

"By George," he admitted, "I do believe you have me there--" but the
Doctor's kindly eyes did not fire to the name of Christmas as Roger
thought they ought.

"Almost," he said, "I thought you were going to stick out your chin
again. And you're not lonesome now 'cause I'm here an' pretty noisy."