Our Boys | Page 6

"Well, I'll tell you what I'll do! I'll just stand here in this place where
the doll didn't come up, and nobody can tell the difference."
"Well, I don't know but you can do that," said Peter, although he was
still ill at ease. He was so good a boy he was very much afraid of doing
wrong, and offending his kind friends the Monks; at the same time he
could not help being glad to see his dear little sister.
He smuggled some food out to her, and she played merrily about him
all day; and at night he tucked her into one of the dolls' cradles with
lace pillows and quilt of rose-colored silk.
The next morning when the Monks were going the rounds, the father
who inspected the wax doll bed was a bit nearsighted, and he never
noticed the difference between the dolls and Peter's little sister, who
swung herself on her crutches, and looked just as much like a wax doll
as she possibly could. So the two were delighted with the success of
their plan.
They went on thus for a few days, and Peter could not help being happy
with his darling little sister, although at the same time he could not help
worrying for fear he was doing wrong.
Something else happened now, which made him worry still more; the
Prince ran away. He had been watching for a long time for an
opportunity to possess himself of a certain long ladder made of twisted
evergreen ropes, which the Monks kept locked up in the toolhouse.
Lately, by some oversight, the toolhouse had been left unlocked one
day, and the Prince got the ladder. It was the latter part of the afternoon,
and the Christmas Monks were all in the chapel practicing Christmas
carols. The Prince found a very large hamper, and picked as many

Christmas presents for himself as he could stuff into it; then he put the
ladder against the high gate in front of the convent, and climbed up,
dragging the hamper after him. When he reached the top of the gate,
which was quite broad, he sat down to rest for a moment before pulling
the ladder up so as to drop it on the other side.
He gave his feet a little triumphant kick as he looked back at his prison,
and down slid the evergreen ladder! The Prince lost his balance, and
would inevitably have broken his neck if he had not clung desperately
to the hamper which hung over on the convent side of the fence; and as
it was just the same weight as the Prince, it kept him suspended on the
other.
He screamed with all the force of his royal lungs; was heard by a party
of noblemen who were galloping up the street; was rescued, and carried
in state to the palace. But he was obliged to drop the hamper of
presents, for with it all the ingenuity of the noblemen could not rescue
him as speedily as it was necessary they should.
When the good Monks discovered the escape of the Prince they were
greatly grieved, for they had tried their best to do well by him; and poor
Peter could with difficulty be comforted. He had been very fond of the
Prince, although the latter had done little except torment him for the
whole year; but Peter had a way of being fond of folks.
A few days after the Prince ran away, and the day before the one on
which the Christmas presents were to be gathered, the nearsighted
father went out into the wax doll field again; but this time he had his
spectacles on, and could see just as well as any one, and even a little
better. Peter's little sister was swinging herself on her crutches, in the
place where the wax doll did not come up, tipping her little face up, and
smiling just like the dolls around her.
"Why, what is this!" said the father. "Hoc credam! I thought that wax
doll did not come up. Can my eyes deceive me? non verum est! There
is a doll there--and what a doll! on crutches, and in poor, homely gear!"
Then the nearsighted father put out his hand toward Peter's little sister.

She jumped--she could not help it, and the holy father jumped too; the
Christmas wreath actually tumbled off his head.
"It is a miracle!" exclaimed he when he could speak; "the little girl is
alive! parra puella viva est. I will pick her and take her to the brethren,
and we will pay her the honors she is entitled to."
Then the good father put on his Christmas wreath, for he dare not
venture before his abbot without it, picked up Peter's little sister,