"It's going to be a push to finish this before midnight," said John Boatright to his fellow worker. "Poteat is a strange one, he is . . . calling us out on Christmas Eve to change his orders." They were stringing the lights on the big fir tree. As they did, the townsfolk helped.
Somebody said, "Maybe we can put together some old wood and make another manger. Billy Ray won't mind now, something's come over him. Don't know what it is, but I like it better than he was." Officer Morganthal Maroney watched the proceedings with approval.
People ran to and fro bringing old pieces of wood while the men hammered away. Before long a crude manger was erected. They were farmers mostly. One brought a few sheep, others brought the family cow. There was a horse or two and a donkey. "Where are we going to get Mary and Joseph and a baby Jesus?" someone asked. Meanwhile the clock bird-dogged toward midnight.
The workers put the finishing touches on the old fir tree. Someone put an electric star on top of the war memorial obelisk, a structure about fifteen feet high which looked exactly like the Washington Monument, only a lot smaller.
"I dunno," said another. "Mebbe some of us could play Mary and Joseph. Who could we get?"
