Back at School with the Tucker Twins

by Nell Speed

  CHAPTER XVI.

  CHRISTMAS EVE AT BRACKEN.

  "Do all of you want to go to-morrow morning with Page and me to playSanta Claus to our poor neighbours?" asked Father at supper.

  "Yes! Yes!" they chorused.

  "I feel bad about all these little nigs who know I bring them the thingsand so they don't believe in Santa Claus at all. I always think thatbelief in Santa Claus is one of the perquisites of childhood. SometimesI have been tempted to dress up and play Santy for them, but I believethey would know me. Docallison is seen too often to have any mysteryabout him."

  "I have it! I have it!" and Dum clapped her hands in glee at the ideathat had come to her. "Let's dress Zebedee up and let him go and givethe kiddies their things."

  "Good!" exclaimed Father. "Will you do it, Tucker?"

  "Sure I will, if Page will do something I ask her."

  "What?"

  "I want you to recite your sonnet that Tweedles tell me you published in_Nods and Becks_. They have not been able to find their copies in themaelstrom of their trunks. I think from what they say of it, it mightinspire me to act Santa Claus with great spirit."

  "Sonnet! What sonnet?" asked Father.

  "You don't mean you have not shown it to your father!" tweedled thetwins.

  "Well, Father is so particular about poetry--somehow--I--I--"

  "Why, daughter!"

  "You know you are! You can't abide mediocre verse."

  "Well, that's so," he confessed, "but you might let me be the judge."

  And so I recited my sonnet, which I will repeat to save the reader thetrouble of turning back so many pages to refresh her memory.

  "Pan may be dead, but Santa Claus remains, And once a year, he riseth in his might. Oft have I heard, in silences of night, Tinkling of bells and clink of reindeer chains As o'er the roofs he sped through his domains, When youthful eyes had given up the fight To glimpse for once the rotund, jolly wight, Who in a trusting world unchallenged reigns. Last and the greatest of all Gods is he, Who suffereth little children and is kind; And when I've rounded out my earthly span And face at last the Ancient Mystery, I hope somewhere in Heaven I shall find Rest on the bosom of that good old man."

  When I finished, Father sat so still that I just knew he thought it wastrash. I could hardly raise my eyes to see, I was so afraid he waslaughing at me. Father, while being the kindest and most lenient man inthe world, was very strict about literature and demanded the best. Ifinally did get my eyes to behave and look up at him and to my amazementI found his were full of tears. He held out his arms to me and I flewto them, thereby upsetting a plate of Sally Lunn muffins that bow-leggedBill was just bringing into the dining room. Zebedee caught them,however, before they touched the ground, so no harm was done.

  "Page! You monkey!" was all Father could say, but I knew he liked mysonnet and I was very happy. He told me afterwards when we were alonethat he liked it a lot and how I must work to do more and more verse. IfI felt like writing, to write, no matter what was to pay.

  "I have got so lazy about it myself," he sighed. "When I was a boy Iwanted to write all the time and did 'lisp in numbers' to some extent,but I got more and more out of it, did not put my thoughts down, and nowI can only think poetry and don't believe I could write a line. Don'tlet it slip from you, honey."

  I had done my part, and now Zebedee was to be diked out as Santa Clausand give the little darkeys a treat that they would remember all theirlives. Some of the bulky bundles the guests had brought from Richmondcontained presents for our coloured neighbours. I had told Dum and Deeof the way Father and I always spent Christmas morning, and they hadremembered when they did their Christmas shopping. They had gone to thefive and ten cent store and, with what they declared was a very smalloutlay, had bought enough toys to gladden the hearts of all the nigs inthe county.

  "Wouldn't it be more realistic if Mr. Tucker should go to-night?"suggested Wink.

  "No, no! 'Twould never do at all!" objected Father violently. "If Tuckergoes to-night, I won't have a minute's peace all day to-morrow--What'smore, young man," shaking his finger at Wink, "neither will you--I'llforce you into service. Why, those little pickaninnies will stuff candyand nuts all night and lick the paint off the jumping-jacks and Noah'sarks, and by morning they will be having forty million stomachaches. No,indeed, wait until morning. Let them eat the trash standing and theyhave a better chance to digest it." So wait we did.

  Jo Winn and his cousin, Reginald Kent, came to call after supper, andwe all of us turned in to beautify Bracken. The great bunch of mistletoewe hung from the chandelier in the library, and holly and cedar wasbanked on bookcases and mantel. Dum deftly fashioned wreaths of runningcedar and swamp berries, and Mr. Reginald Kent seemed to think he had toassist her to tie every knot. Bunches of holly and swamp berries were inevery available vase, and Mammy Susan proudly bore in some bloomingnarcissus that she had set to sprout just six weeks before so that theywould bloom on Christmas day. She had kept them hid from me so I couldbe surprised.

  I wondered how Father would take this interruption of his "ancient andsolitary reign," and if he would regret the peaceful, orderly ChristmasEves he and I had always spent together. His quiet library was nowpandemonium, and if it was turned up on the day before Christmas, whatwould it be on Christmas Day? He was sitting by the fire verycontentedly, smoking his pipe and talking to Mr. Tucker, who had refusedto help us decorate, and as was his way when he, Zebedee, did not wantto enter into any of our frolics, he called us: "You young people" andpretended to be quite middle-aged.

  "Look at Zebedee!" said Dee to Wink. "Look at him Mr. Tuckering andtrying to make out he's grown-up!" Wink, who looked upon Mr. Tucker asquite grown-up, even middle-aged, was rather mystified. I was very gladto see Wink and Dee renewing the friendship that had started betweenthem at Willoughby. They were much more congenial than Wink and I were.If Wink would only stop looking at me like a dying calf and realize thatDee was a thousand times nicer and brighter and prettier than I was! Itseemed to me that if it had been nothing more than a matter of noses, hewas a goose not to prefer Dee. All the Tuckers had such good noses,straight and aristocratic with lots of character, and my little freckled_nez retrousse_ was so very ordinary.

  My nose has always been a source of great annoyance to me, but I feltthen that I would be glad to bear my burden if Wink would just see thedifference between Dee's nose and mine. I remember what Gwendolen'smother, in "Daniel Deronda," said to her when Gwendolen said what apretty nose her mother had and how she envied her: "Oh, my dear, anynose will do to be miserable with in this world!" Well, I did not feelthat way exactly, but I did feel that any nose would do to be happy within this world if Wink would just stop "pestering" me. I was alwaysafraid somebody would know he was whispering the silly things to me thathe seemed to think I was very cruel not to respond to. I almost knewZebedee understood, but I had kept very dark about it to all the girls.What irritated me was that I knew all the time what a very intelligent,nice fellow Wink was, and would have liked so much to have the goodtalks with him that our friendship had begun with at Willoughby; but nowsane conversation was out of the question. Tender nothings were theorder of the day whenever I found myself alone with Mr. Stephen White.The outcome was that I saw to it that I was alone with him as little aspossible. Tender nothings are all right, I fancy, when it is atwo-sided affair, but when it is all on one side--deliver me!

  Jo Winn followed Dee around with the "faithful dog Tray" expression inhis eyes and was pleased as Punch when Dee gave him some difficult taskto perform, such as festooning running cedar on the family portraits,hung high against the ceiling as was the way of hanging pictures inantebellum days. Father and I were determined to change their hangingjust as soon as we could afford to have the walls done over, but theyhad to stay where they were until that time as they had hung so long inthe same spot
s that the paper all around them was several shades lighterthan behind them.

  The decorations finished, we drew up around the fire to tell tales andpop corn and chestnuts until a late hour, when Jo Winn and Reginald Kentmade a reluctant departure with assurances that they would see us againthe next morning. They had asked to be allowed to make themselves usefulin the Santa Claus scheme we had on foot, and we readily agreed to theircompany.