Christmas gold, p.491
Christmas Gold, page 491
So she softly struck a match, lighted her candle and tiptoed across the floor, first taking the key from its place on the mantel. For a moment a wild hope came to her that it might be a Christmas tree, a little one, behind that locked door, but that idea faded away for she remembered that Miss Dorothy had said, "I would like to set up a Christmas tree for you, dearie, but it is your grandma's house and I would not have the right to do it if she disapproves," and so it could not possibly be a Christmas tree.
She set down her candle, unlocked the door and felt for what should hang on the knob inside. As she did so she smothered a little cry of delight for her hand grasped a well-filled stocking. Quickly unfastening it, she skurried back to her room with the treasure. In another moment she was snuggled down under the warm covers examining the contents of her stocking. It held all the foolish and pleasant things which such stockings usually hold, and to these were added sundry little gifts. A note pinned on the outside read:
"Dearest Marian:
"I hope you will like your stocking. It is exactly such as Patty will have, and I know you will be pleased to have it so. A Merry Christmas from all of us at Revell.
"Lovingly yours,
Dorothy Robbins."
A stocking just like Patty's! What joy! Perhaps at that very moment Patty was looking at hers. It was so delightful to open the small packages, to find a beautiful paper-doll from Miss Emily, a funny cheap toy from each of the boys: a silly monkey, a quacking duck and a jumping jack; a little fairy tale book from Patty, and oh, wonder! the Roman sash from Miss Dorothy. Even Mr. Robbins and Aunt Barbara had contributed, the former a little purse with a ten cent piece in it, and the latter a box of her famous nut candy. Surely never was a stocking more appreciated and more gloated over.
It was broad daylight and her grandmother was calling her before Patty realized that her candle had burned down to its socket and that it was time to get up. She huddled her gifts back into the stocking and hurried to get bathed and dressed, for a day beginning so delightfully must surely have more happiness in it. And indeed this did seem to be so, for though her presents from her grandparents were, as usual, useful, among them was a set of furs, just what Marian had longed for since she saw Patty's, and there was also a little typewriter for her very self from her grandpa. Marian's mustard seeds were surely doing their work.
There were buckwheat cakes for breakfast, too, and Heppy beckoned Marian to the kitchen afterward. A row of mince pies stood on the table, and at the end of the row was a little scalloped one, "for you," said Heppy. There was a pair of queerly shaped figures, too, among the ginger-snaps. Heppy gave a funny chuckle as she picked them out. "I guess nobody'd know what they're intended for," she said. "I guess I won't go into the sculping business, for I find I'm no hand at making figgers."
But Marian was as delighted with these as if they had been perfect and bore them with the rest of her things to show Mrs. Hunt.
Her grans had smiled indulgently when she showed her stocking, but had not seemed to think very much of it. Mrs. Otway said she supposed Miss Dorothy had paid a pretty penny for the sash, and it was more than she ought to have done. Mr. Otway thought Marian must be too big a girl to care for jumping-jacks and such foolishness, but that was the most that was said.
One of the events of Christmas day had always been the visit to Mrs. Hunt, for this usually meant the best of the day's doings, and Marian was always in a hurry to get off, but this time she was not in such haste, for she liked to linger over her delightful stocking, and enjoyed trying her typewriter while her grandfather showed her how to use it. So it was not till her elders set out for church that she was ready. Her cough shut her out of any churchgoing for a while, but she begged to wear her new furs to show Mrs. Hunt, and was given consent.
The church bells were all ringing as she entered Mrs. Hunt's door. "I thought you wouldn't get here at all," said Mrs. Hunt in response to Marian's "Merry Christmas!" "I was getting real anxious about you. Come right in out of the cold. What made you so late, chickadee?"
"Because it has been such a glad morning," Marian answered. "I don't care anything about moving mountains any more, though it would have been nice to have a tree, too."
"It would, would it? Well, I don't know. Is that for me?" as Marian presented the book of photographs. "Well, I declare, isn't that you all over? This is a Christmas gift worth having. What a Miss Dorothy it is. Come, kiss me, dearie, you couldn't have given me anything I like better. Now tell me what has made you so glad."
Then Marian displayed her stocking and her furs, and was describing her typewriter when Mrs. Hunt said: "Then I suppose you won't care about what I have for you."
"Oh, Auntie Hunt, you know I always care," returned Marian reproachfully. "I never had a Christmas stocking before, and I did so want furs."
"Bless her dear heart! Auntie Hunt was only teasing you a little. Well, I don't believe what I have will wait much longer, so perhaps we'd better go look at it." And she led the way to the parlor.
Marian wondered at this, for she was not such a stranger as to be taken there even upon such a day as Christmas. What could Mrs. Hunt have in there that she couldn't bring into the sitting-room? She had always had Marian's present and her little basket of goodies set on a side table and why must they be in the parlor to-day? She wondered, too, why Mrs. Hunt fumbled at the door-knob and rattled it a little before she went in, but when she saw at the end of the room a bright and dazzling Christmas tree, she forgot all else. It was such a glittering, shining affair, all wonderful ornaments and gleaming tinsel, and was a joy to look upon, from the flying angel at the tip-top to the group of sheep on a mossy pasture at the foot. The impossible had happened. Faith and works had triumphed. The might of the mustard seed's strength had been proved, and Marian dropped on her knees before the marvelous vision. "Oh, I am so happy, Lord. I am so much obliged to you for your loving-kindness," she breathed.
"That's just like her," said Mrs. Hunt nodding her head as if to some one behind her. "You are pleased, aren't you, chickadee? Well, now, who do you think gave you all those pretty things? Mr. Hunt cut the tree and brought the moss, I'm ready to confess. I helped with the trimming, but who did the rest?"
"Miss Dorothy," promptly replied Marian.
Mrs. Hunt shook her head. "Wrong guess," she said laughing. "Stand right there and shut your eyes while I count ten, then see if you can make a better guess."
Marian did as she was told, squeezing her eyes tight together lest she should be tempted to peep at the tree. As "ten" fell from Mrs. Hunt's lips her eyes opened, not upon the tree, for between her and it stood the figure of a tall man who held out his arms to her. Marian stood stock still in amazed wonder, gazing at him fixedly, then in a voice that rang through the room she cried: "Papa! Papa!" and in an instant his arms were around her and she was fairly sobbing on his breast.
"It's almost more than the child can bear," murmured Mrs. Hunt wiping her eyes. "I don't know that it was right to surprise her so. Maybe it would have been better to prepare her." But Marian was herself in a little while, ready to hear how this wonderful thing happened.
"It was all on account of that little book of photographs," her father told her. "My longing to see my dear little daughter grew stronger and stronger as I turned over the pages, and when I came to the last picture I simply could not stand it. I rushed out, looked up the next sailing, and found I could make a steamer sailing from Bremen the next morning, and before night I was on my way to that city. I found I had a couple of hours to spare in Bremen, and I remembered that my little girl had said that she had never had a Christmas tree, so I went up town, bought a jumble of Christmas toys, and took them to the steamer with me. I reached here last night, and my dear old friend Mrs. Hunt took me in. Between us all we set up the Christmas tree, and arranged the surprise. I felt as if I could not spend another Christmas day away from my dear little daughter when she wanted me so much. Do you think they will let me in at the brick house, Marian?" he asked holding her close.
"I am sure they will," she answered with conviction. "I've found out that nobody is as cross inside as they seem outside. Even Heppy is just like a bear sometimes, but she has the most kind thinkings when you get at them."
It was hard to leave the beautiful tree, but even that was not so great and splendid a thing as this home-coming of Marian's father, and when the churchgoers had all gone by, the two went up street together, hand in hand. At the door of the brick house they paused.
"Tell them I am here and ask them if I may come in, Marian," said her father, as he stood on the steps.
Marian went in, and entered the sitting-room. Her grandmother was taking off her bonnet. "It was a good sermon, my dear," she was saying to her husband. "Peace and good-will to all men, not to some, but to all, our own first." She smoothed out her gloves thoughtfully. "Eight years," she murmured, "eight years."
Marian stood in the doorway. "Papa has come," she said simply. "He is on the door-step, but he won't come in till you say he may."
With a trembling little cry her grandmother ran to the door. Mr. Otway grasped the back of the chair behind which he was standing. His head was bowed and he was white to the lips. "Tell him to come in," he said.
Marian ran out to see her grandmother, her grave, quiet, dignified grandmother, sobbing in her son's arms, and he kissing her bowed head and murmuring loving words to her.
"Grandpa says please come in," said Marian giving the message with added politeness, and with one arm around his mother and the other grasping Marian's hand, Ralph Otway entered his father's house to meet the hand clasp of one who for more than eight years had forbidden him entrance.
The remainder of Marian's day was spent in making visits to Mrs. Hunt's parlor and to her grandmother's sitting-room. When the grown-ups' talk began to grow uninteresting and herself unnoticed she would slip away to gloat over the Christmas tree, then when she had firmly fixed in her mind just what hung on this side and on that, she would go back to the sitting-room to nestle down by her father, or to turn over the contents of her stocking.
It was during this process that she heard part of a conversation which interested her very much. "Herbert Robbins wrote me not long ago to ask if I could suggest a fitting man for one of the engineering departments of the college," said Grandpa Otway. "I told him I would consider the matter, and if any one occurred to me I would let him know. How would you like the work, Ralph?" he went on in his measured tones. "Revell is not far away; it is a progressive college in a pleasant community."
Marian laid down her stocking and came nearer.
"I should like to look into the matter," said her father thoughtfully.
"I would advise your seeing Robbins," said his father. "He can give you the particulars." Then he added somewhat hesitatingly, "I should like—I should be pleased to have my son one of the faculty of my own college."
Marian's father looked up brightly. "Thank you, father; that settles it. If it is as good a thing as now appears I shall not hesitate to accept if I am given the opportunity."
"Are you going to see Patty?" whispered Marian, "and couldn't I go, too?"
Her father looked down at her with a smile. "I'd like you to go if your grandmother is willing."
Therefore before the holidays were over Marian had the pleasure of showing off her new furs as well as her dear papa to Patty and the rest of the Robbinses, and before she came back it was settled that her father was to go to Revell to live. Beyond that nothing of much consequence was decided at that time.
Patty and Marian were jubilant over the arrangement. "Perhaps you will come here to live some day," Patty said to her friend.
"I wish I could," said Marian. "Do you think papa will need me more than the grans, Patty?"
"Of course," returned Patty, "for your grandfather has a wife to take care of him and she has a husband, and it isn't fair they should have you, too; besides a father is a nearer relation than a grandfather, so of course he has a right to you." And this quite settled it in Marian's opinion.
The little girls had two happy days together when Marian enjoyed Patty's tree and her Christmas gifts only in a little less degree than her own. She was pleased to find that Puff was already a great pet, and that Patty had all sorts of mysterious things to tell about him; of how he would steal out at night and become a real prince between midnight and dawn, and of how Miggy Wig had deserted the cave and was no longer a doll, but that she had worked her enchantments only so far as to turn Puff from a toad into a kitten during the day, so the little cat did actually appear to be more than an ordinary animal to both children.
It took only a short time for Marian and her father to become great chums, and they had many good times together sharing many secrets which they did not tell the grans.
Miss Dorothy did not go home very often during the winter, so on Saturdays and Sundays when her father came home from Revell, Marian took many pleasant walks with the two. Sometimes they made an excursion to the city, when real shopping took the place of make-believes.
Marian went back to school after the holidays and never failed to stop every day to see Mrs. Hunt. It was in the spring that she learned from this good friend that her father did not tell her all his secrets, for one day when they were talking of that happy Christmas day Marian said, "What do you suppose Miss Dorothy did with the Christmas gift I gave her? I have never seen it anywhere and she has never said a word about it."
"What was it?" asked Mrs. Hunt.
"The photograph of papa that he sent me. I wanted to give her something very precious and that was the best thing I had."
To Marian's surprise Mrs. Hunt threw back her head and laughed till the tears came, though Marian could not see that she had said anything very funny.
When Mrs. Hunt had wiped her eyes she remarked: "We shall miss Miss Dorothy next year."
"Why, isn't she coming back to teach?" asked Marian in dismay.
Mrs. Hunt shook her head.
"Oh, why not?"
"Ask your papa; he knows," said Mrs. Hunt laughing again.
But before Marian had a chance to do this, Patty came to make Mrs. Hunt the long-promised visit, and it was Patty who guessed the secret. "Did you know that Miss Dorothy is not coming back here next year?" was one of Marian's first questions.
Patty nodded. "I heard her say so to Emily."
"Then you will have her and I shall not," returned Marian jealously.
"Oh, yes, I think you will have her as much as I," returned Patty, "for she is making all sorts of pretty things and I think she is going to be married."
"Be married?" Such a possibility had never occurred to Marian. "Oh, dear," she began, then she brightened up as she thought perhaps it might be the new rector Miss Dorothy was going to marry; in that case she would be living in Greenville. She remembered that the young man often walked home with her teacher. It would be a very nice arrangement, Marian thought. "Is she going to live in Greenville?" she asked, feeling her way.
"No," Patty laughed. "I don't think so."
Then perhaps the young rector was going to another town. "Has she told you where she is going to live and who she is going to marry?" asked Marian coming straight to the point.
"No, but I know she is going to live in Revell, and I hear her and Emily talk, talk, talk about some one named Ralph." Patty put her hand over her mouth, and looked at Marian with laughing eyes.
"Why—why——" Marian looked at Patty for further enlightenment, but Patty was only laughing. "Why, that's my papa's name," said Marian.
Patty nodded. "That's just who I think it is." And that was precisely who it was.
Short Stories
Table of Contents
A Merry Christmas & Other Christmas Stories
(Louisa May Alcott)
Table of Contents
Merry Christmas
A Christmas Dream and How It Came True
Becky's Christmas Dream
Kitty's Class Day
Rosa's Tale
Tilly's Christmas
The Abbot's Ghost, or Maurice Treherne's Temptation
What the Bell Saw and Said
Merry Christmas
Table of Contents
In the rush of early morning,
When the red burns through the gray,
And the wintry world lies waiting
For the glory of the day,
Then we hear a fitful rustling
Just without upon the stair,
See two small white phantoms coming,
Catch the gleam of sunny hair.
Are they Christmas fairies stealing
Rows of little socks to fill?
Are they angels floating hither
With their message of good-will?
What sweet spell are these elves weaving,
As like larks they chirp and sing?
Are these palms of peace from heaven
That these lovely spirits bring?
Rosy feet upon the threshold,
Eager faces peeping through,
With the first red ray of sunshine,
Chanting cherubs come in view:
Mistletoe and gleaming holly,
Symbols of a blessed day,
In their chubby hands they carry,
Streaming all along the way.
Well we know them, never weary
Of this innocent surprise;
Waiting, watching, listening always
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