Nothing on the tree was
moving, except the flickering tips of the candle flames, and
little wisps of smoke rising from each blaze. Nothing in the
whole church was moving, except those candle lights and Captain
Jones's lips and his quivering beard.
The stiff pasteboard in my paper hat was bothering my head so
much I wanted to pull the hat clear off. I reached up to get it,
but Mama made such a frown I knew to leave it alone.
Then we saw Aunt Vic raise one of her hands in a quick waving
motion. Immediately somebody back on the stage gave the ropes a
hard jerk and the curtains opened wide.
Of all things! An apple crate right in the middle of the
stage with hay sticking out at the top and on all sides! I
couldn't imagine why we needed hay at church.
Bess and Jim-Bo were sitting there beside the hay box, their
hands folded as if for saying prayers. They weren't praying,
though. They weren't moving their lips or keeping their eyes
closed. They were just gazing down into the straw. "Mama," I
whispered, "what's down in the box?"
"Sh-sh! Pay attention to Captain Jones so you can understand
the pageant.
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