A Napa Christchild; and Benicias Letters | Page 6

to be.
Crescimir was happy to think that he had not left his gifts unappreciated and only regretted that he had not put whole pumpkins there instead of onions.
"So you have no idea to whom the child belongs?" asked Jovita, as they neared the house. "He is strangely dressed and the frock is of an unfamiliar texture; he does not seem cold either, although he is so lightly clad. We must try to find his parents who, doubtless, are now anxiously searching for him or believing him drowned in last night's awful flood."
The strange little creature seemed now entirely to lose his sleepiness and broke into a merry laugh, sliding down from the saddle he capered madly around the two astonished spectators like a little elf blown about by the wind, his golden hair floating around him and the pink, little feet scarcely seeming to touch the grass.
"There has been a number of campers passing through the valley to settle north on the Caymus ranchos, this little sprite must be one of their children who has strayed away," said Jovita.
"Come little one, let us go into the house and have our breakfast."
The Christchild did not seem to understand her, for he continued his capering and wild antics.
"Stop, stop," exclaimed Crescimir in his native tongue, "stop and listen to what the beautiful Se?orita says to thee. Come now into the house."
He ceased his play immediately and went before them up to the door, with tears in his eyes on account of Crescimir's rebuke. As they reached the veranda Crescimir caught the little elf up in his arms and kissed his rosy lips; the moment the child's feet touched the ground when Crescimir put him down, he put his hand over his mouth as if to keep the kiss warm and running to Jovita, she lifted him in her arms, as he signed her to do, when suddenly withdrawing his hand, he kissed her, looking back significantly and laughing.
Both Jovita and Crescimir knew what the child had intended to express and both blushed consciously, yet could but marvel at the acuteness of the little creature who so soon was able to read their hearts, even before they had perfectly known them themselves.
The mother of Jovita now came to the door and inviting them into the living room, the events of the past night were related and all that was known of the little waif.
Crescimir spent the day by the river searching for what might have been left on the banks by the flood. He learned that his raft had been carried out of the stream through a break in the bank, and much of the wreckage of his own house with it. Returning to the hacienda he discovered in a clump of bushes, over which the water had run when at its highest mark, the bodies of a man and woman entangled in the canvas cover of a camp wagon. It was evident to Crescimir from their dress that they were German emigrants.
With the help of some of the rancheros the bodies were carried to the house.
"They may be the parents of the little one," said Jovita's mother. "We will bring him here and see if he recognizes them; it seems cruel but it is the only way."
They brought the Christchild to the room where the bodies lay. When the little fellow saw them, he clung to Crescimir and uttering a moaning sound, yet seeming half like a laugh, he hid his eyes and would not look again.
"Are these thy parents little one?" asked Crescimir tenderly; the Christchild shook his head negatively and broke into hysterical sobs.
Though the Christchild had denied that these were the bodies of his parents, both Jovita, her mother and Crescimir felt certain that they were.
Crescimir remained that night at the Tulucay hacienda and early next morning the bodies were taken to the village and given burial in consecrated ground, as the cross which the woman wore and a medal of silver which the man carried showed them to be of the true church.
After the burial Crescimir returned to the rancheria. "I will be thy father now, little Christchild," said he as they stood at the well with Jovita, who had been filling the little olla for her mother's night drink.
The child looked up with a pleased smile and then turning to Jovita, asked with his bright eyes a question which words could not better have expressed.
Jovita replied softly as she looked down at the strange, wistful face, and felt the touch of Crescimir's hand on her own, "And I thy mother."
[Illustration: Scroll]
[Illustration: Scroll]

IV.
By the beginning of summer Crescimir's place had all been restored and the house rebuilt on the summit of the knoll, far away from any danger of another flood.
It was a pretty cottage now, in the