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in the thoughts of every man and woman among them--albeit it was the Christmas of wanderers and exiles in a wilderness looking back to bright home-fires across stormy waters.

      The men had come back from their work on shore with branches of green pine and holly, and the women had, stuck them about the ship, not without tearful thoughts of old home-places, where their childhood fathers and mothers did the same.

      Bits and snatches of Christmas carols were floating all around the ship, like land-birds blown far out to sea. In the forecastle Master Coppin was singing:

      "Come, bring with a noise,

       My merry boys,

       The Christmas log to the firing;

       While my good dame, she

       Bids ye all be free,

       And drink to your hearts' desiring.

       Drink now the strong beer,

       Cut the white loaf here.

       The while the meat is shredding

       For the rare minced pie,

       And the plums stand by

       To fill the paste that's a-kneading."

      "Ah, well-a-day, Master Jones, it is dull cheer to sing Christmas songs here in the woods, with only the owls and the bears for choristers. I wish I could hear the bells of merry England once more."

      And down in the cabin Rose Standish was hushing little Peregrine, the first American-born baby, with a Christmas lullaby:

      "This winter's night

       I saw a sight--

       A star as bright as day;

       And ever among

       A maiden sung,

       Lullay, by-by, lullay!

       "This lovely laydie sat and sung,

       And to her child she said,

       My son, my brother, and my father dear,

       Why lyest thou thus in hayd?

       My sweet bird,

       Tho' it betide

       Thou be not king veray;

       But nevertheless

       I will not cease

       To sing, by-by, lullay!

       "The child then spake in his talking,

       And to his mother he said,

       It happeneth, mother, I am a king,

       In crib though I be laid,

       For angels bright

       Did down alight,

       Thou knowest it is no nay;

       And of that sight

       Thou may'st be light

       To sing, by-by, lullay!

       "Now, sweet son, since thou art a king,

       Why art thou laid in stall?

       Why not ordain thy bedding

       In some great king his hall?

       We thinketh 'tis right

       That king or knight

       Should be in good array;

       And them among,

       It were no wrong

       To sing, by-by, lullay!

       "Mary, mother, I am thy child,

       Tho' I be laid in stall;

       Lords and dukes shall worship me,

       And so shall kinges all.

       And ye shall see

       That kinges three

       Shall come on the twelfth day;

       For this behest

       Give me thy breast,

       And sing, by-by, lullay!"

      "See here," quoth Miles Standish, "when my Rose singeth, the children gather round her like bees round a flower. Come, let us all strike up a goodly carol together. Sing one, sing all, girls and boys, and get a bit of Old England's Christmas before to-morrow, when we must to our work on shore."

      Thereat Rose struck up a familiar ballad-meter of a catching rhythm, and every voice of young and old was soon joining in it:

      The cheerful sounds spread themselves through the ship like the flavor of some rare perfume, bringing softness of heart through a thousand tender memories.

      Anon, the hour of Sabbath morning worship drew on, and Elder Brewster read from the New Testament the whole story of the Nativity, and then gave a sort of Christmas homily from the words of St. Paul, in the eighth chapter of Romans, the sixth and seventh verses, which the Geneva version thus renders:

      "For the wisdom of the flesh is death, but the wisdom of the spirit is

       life and peace.

       "For the wisdom of the flesh is enmity against God, for it is not subject

       to the law of God, neither indeed can be."

      "Ye know full well, dear brethren, what the wisdom of the flesh sayeth. The wisdom of the flesh sayeth to each one, 'Take care of thyself; look after thyself, to get and to have and to hold and to enjoy.' The wisdom of the flesh sayeth, 'So thou art warm, full, and in good liking, take thine ease, eat, drink, and be merry, and care not how many go empty and be lacking.' But ye have seen in the Gospel this morning that this was not the wisdom of our Lord Jesus Christ, who, though he was Lord of all, became poorer than any, that we, through His poverty, might become rich. When our Lord Jesus Christ came, the wisdom of the flesh despised Him; the wisdom of the flesh had no room for Him at the inn.

      "There was room enough always for Herod and his concubines, for the wisdom of the flesh set great store by them; but a poor man and woman were thrust out to a stable; and _there_ was a poor baby born whom the wisdom of the flesh knew not, because the wisdom of the flesh is enmity against God.

      "The wisdom of the flesh, brethren, ever despiseth the wisdom of God, because it knoweth it not. The wisdom of the flesh looketh at the thing that is great and strong and high; it looketh at riches, at kings' courts, at fine clothes and fine jewels and fine feastings, and it despiseth the little and the poor and the weak.

      "But the wisdom of the Spirit goeth to worship the poor babe in the manger, and layeth gold and myrrh and frankincense at his feet while he lieth in weakness and poverty, as did the wise men who were taught of God.

      "Now, forasmuch as our Saviour Christ left His riches and throne in glory and came in weakness and poverty to this world, that he might work out a mighty salvation that shall be to all people, how can we better keep Christmas than to follow in his steps? We be a little company who have forsaken houses and lands and possessions, and come here unto the wilderness that we may prepare a resting-place whereto others shall come to reap what we shall sow. And to-morrow we shall keep our first Christmas, not in flesh-pleasing, and in reveling and in fullness of bread, but in small beginning and great weakness, as our Lord

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