Snap-Dragons; Old Father Christmas

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by Juliana Horatia Gatty Ewing

went after him, a dim hope crossing my mind--`Perhaps FatherChristmas has sent him for us.'

  "This idea was rather favoured by the fact that the dog led us up thelane. Only a little way; then he stopped by something lying in theditch--and once more we cried in the same breath, `It's Old FatherChristmas!'"

  CHAPTER FIVE.

  "Returning from the Hall, the old man had slipped upon a bit of ice, andlay stunned in the snow.

  "Patty began to cry. `I think he's dead,' she sobbed.

  "`He is so very old, I don't wonder,' I murmured; `but perhaps he's not.I'll fetch Father.'

  "My father and Kitty were soon on the spot. Kitty was as strong as aman; and they carried Father Christmas between them into the kitchen.There he quickly revived.

  "I must do Kitty the justice to say that she did not utter a word ofcomplaint at this disturbance of her labours; and that she drew the oldman's chair close up to the oven with her own hand. She was so muchaffected by the behaviour of his dog, that she admitted him even to thehearth; on which puss, being acute enough to see how matters stood, laydown with her back so close to the spaniel's that Kitty could not expelone without kicking both.

  "For our parts, we felt sadly anxious about the tree; otherwise we couldhave wished for no better treat than to sit at Kitty's round tabletaking tea with Father Christmas. Our usual fare of thick bread andtreacle was to-night exchanged for a delicious variety of cakes, whichwere none the worse to us for being `tasters and wasters'--that is,little bits of dough, or shortbread, put in to try the state of theoven, and certain cakes that had got broken or burnt in the baking.

  "Well, there we sat, helping Old Father Christmas to tea and cake, andwondering in our hearts what could have become of the tree. But yousee, young people, when I was a child, parents were stricter than theyare now. Even before Kitty died (and she has been dead many a longyear) there was a change, and she said that `children got to thinkanything became them.' I think we were taught more honest shame aboutcertain things than I often see in little boys and girls now. We wereashamed of boasting, or being greedy, or selfish; we were ashamed ofasking for anything that was not offered to us, and of interruptinggrown-up people, or talking about ourselves. Why, papas and mammasnow-a-days seem quite proud to let their friends see how bold and greedyand talkative their children can be! A lady said to me the other day,`You wouldn't believe, Mr Garbel, how forward dear little Harry is forhis age. He has his word in everything, and is not a bit shy! and hispapa never comes home from town but Harry runs to ask if he's broughthim a present. Papa says he'll be the ruin of him!'

  "`Madam,' said I, `even without your word for it, I am quite aware thatyour child is forward. He is forward and greedy and intrusive, as youjustly point out, and I wish you joy of him when those qualities arefully developed. I think his father's fears are well founded.'

  "But, bless me! now-a-days, it's `Come and tell Mr Smith what a fineboy you are, and how many houses you can build with your bricks,' or,`The dear child wants everything he sees,' or `Little pet never letsMamma alone for a minute; does she, love?' But in my young days it was,`Self praise is no recommendation' (as Kitty used to tell me), or,`You're knocking too hard at Number One' (as my father said when wetalked about ourselves), or, `Little boys should be seen but not heard'(as a rule of conduct `in company'), or, `Don't ask for what you want,but take what's given you and be thankful.'

  "And so you see, young people, Patty and I felt a delicacy in asking OldFather Christmas about the tree. It was not till we had had tea threetimes round, with tasters and wasters to match, that Patty said verygently, `It's quite dark now.' And then she heaved a deep sigh.

  "Burning anxiety overcame me. I leant towards Father Christmas, andshouted--I had found out that it was needful to shout, `I suppose thecandles are on the tree now?'

  "`Just about putting of 'em on,' said Father Christmas.

  "`And the presents, too?' said Patty.

  "`Ay, ay, _to_ be sure,' said Father Christmas, and he smileddelightfully.

  "I was thinking what farther questions I might venture upon, when hepushed his cup towards Patty, saying, `Since you are so pressing, miss,I'll take another dish.'

  "And Kitty, swooping on us from the oven, cried, `Make yourself at home,sir; there's more where these came from. Make a long arm, Miss Patty,and hand them cakes.'

  "So we had to devote ourselves to the duties of the table; and Patty,holding the lid with one hand and pouring with the other, suppliedFather Christmas's wants with a heavy heart.

  "At last he was satisfied. I said grace, during which he stood, andindeed he stood for some time afterwards with his eyes shut--I fancyunder the impression that I was still speaking. He had just said afervent `Amen,' and reseated himself, when my father put his head intothe kitchen, and made this remarkable statement,--

  "`Old Father Christmas has sent a tree to the young people.'

  "Patty and I uttered a cry of delight, and we forthwith danced round theold man, saying, `Oh, how nice! Oh, how kind of you!' which I thinkmust have bewildered him, but he only smiled and nodded.

  "`Come along,' said my father. `Come children. Come Reuben. ComeKitty.'

  "And he went into the parlour, and we all followed him.

  "My godmother's picture of a Christmas-tree was very pretty; and theflames of the candles were so naturally done in red and yellow, that Ialways wondered that they did not shine at night. But the picture wasnothing to the reality. We had been sitting almost in the dark, for, asKitty said, `Firelight was quite enough to burn at meal-times.' Andwhen the parlour door was thrown open, and the tree, with lighted taperson all the branches, burst upon our view, the blaze was dazzling, andthrew such a glory round the little gifts, and the bags of colouredmuslin with acid drops, and pink rose drops, and comfits inside, as Ishall never forget. We all got something; and Patty and I, at any rate,believed that the things came from the stores of Old Father Christmas.We were not undeceived even by his gratefully accepting a bundle of oldclothes which had been hastily put together to form his present.

  "We were all very happy; even Kitty, I think, though she kept hersleeves rolled up, and seemed rather to grudge enjoying herself (a weakpoint in some energetic characters). She went back to her oven beforethe lights were out, and the angel on the top of the tree taken down.She locked up her present (a little work-box) at once. She often showedit off afterwards, but it was kept in the same bit of tissue paper tillshe died. Our presents certainly did not last so long!

  "The old man died about a week afterwards, so we never made hisacquaintance as a common personage. When he was buried, his little dogcame to us. I suppose he remembered the hospitality he had received.Patty adopted him, and he was very faithful. Puss always looked on himwith favour. I hoped during our rambles together in the followingsummer that he would lead us at last to the cave where Christmas-treesare dressed. But he never did.

  "Our parents often spoke of his late master as `old Reuben,' butchildren are not easily disabused of a favourite fancy, and in Patty'sthoughts and in mine the old man was long gratefully remembered as OldFather Christmas."

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  The End.

 


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