made her look as if she were a creature in a dream.
“My, ain’t it lovely!” whispered Becky.
“If we just had something for bonbon dishes,” Sara murmured. “There!”—darting to the trunk again. “I remember I saw something this minute.”
It was only a bundle of wool wrapped in red and white tissue paper, but the tissue paper was soon twisted into the form of little dishes, and was combined with the remaining flowers to ornament the candlestick which was to light the feast. Only the Magic could have
her hand. She dropped them, and Melchisedec came quietly forth and ate them. A piece of larger size than the rest he took and carried in the most businesslike manner back to his home.
“You see,” said Sara, “that is for his wife and children. He is very nice. He only eats the little bits. After he goes