still stood in the room. The old grandma a-settin' there still; time had
dulled her vision for lookin' forward. She wuz a-lookin' into the past,
into the realm that had held so many partin's for her, and mebby
lookin' way over the present into the land of meetin's.

The little girl with her hand on the old dog is too small to fully
realize what it all means.

But in the mother's face you can see the full meanin' of the
partin'--the breakin' of the old ties that bound her boy so fast to her
in the past.

The lettin' him go out into the evil world without her lovin'
watchfulness and love. All the love that would fain go with him--all the
admonition that she would fain give him--all the love and all the hope
she feels for him is writ in her gentle face.

As for the boy, anticipation and dread are writ on his mean, but the man
is waitin' impatient outside to take him away. The partin' must come.

You turn away, glad you can't see that last kiss.

Then there wuz "Holy Night," the Christ Child, with its father and
mother, and some surroundin' worshippers of both sects.

Mary's face held all the sweetness and strength you'd expect to see in
the mother of our Lord. And Joseph looked real well too--quite well.

Josiah said that "the halos round his head and Mary's looked some like
big white plates."