by Nell Speed
CHAPTER XVII.
SANTA CLAUS.
"Well, what on earth are you schemers going to dress me in?" demandedZebedee at breakfast the next morning. "I have no idea of playing SantaClaus unless I am properly attired."
"Oh, we stayed awake half the night planning a costume for you. You aregoing to be beautiful, you vain, conceited piece!" exclaimed Dee. "Dr.Allison has a red dressing gown--"
"I knew I would be the goat," said Father ruefully. "My red dressinggown is only ten years old, Tucker, so do be easy on it."
"Oh, we won't hurt it, Doctor," insisted Dum. "We are going to sewimitation ermine all around the bottom and front and sleeves,--and hiswhiskers--"
"Yes, do tell me about my whiskers! That is the most important factorin a Santa Claus costume."
"They are to be the flap off of an old white muff I had when I was akid. Mammy Susan is digging it out of the old chest in the attic now."
"And your embonpoint is to be a down cushion out of the library," put inDee.
"And your hat--my red silk toboggan cap with some of Page's tippet, thatmatches the muff, sewed in for hair!" from Dum.
"Your boots--Father's duck-hunting rubber ones!"
"Well, among you I reckon I'll be dressed in great shape. I fancy I hadbetter get ready."
"Just as soon as we sew on the ermine."
We got to work, all hands at once, and sewed on the imitation ermine,made of bands of canton flannel with artistically arranged smuts atirregular intervals spotted around it, giving it very much theappearance of ermine.
We adjourned to the library so Mammy Susan could begin on the diningroom for Christmas dinner, which was the one great function of the yearwith Mammy. The table must be set with great precision with all thesilver and cut glass that Bracken boasted, which was not any greatamount. The best table cloth made its appearance on this occasion, awonderful heavy damask that had been sent to my mother from England,with napkins to match that would easily have served for table cloths onordinary occasions. Mammy always kept this linen wrapped in blue tissuepaper, and after almost twenty years of use on grand occasions, it wasstill as beautiful as the day my mother received it as a bridal present.
The library had been one great swirl of tissue paper and red ribbon andChristmas seals, something new for Bracken, as Father and I neverthought of doing up our presents to each other at all. But the Tuckersspent almost as much on the things to wrap up the presents with, as theydid on the presents, so Zebedee said. With the help of Blanche, whocarefully saved every inch of ribbon or string, every piece of paper, nomatter how rumpled or torn, and all the Christmas seals, I got theplace cleared out enough for us to get to work on Santa Claus' costume.
Father was oblivious to everything as he could not get his nose out ofthe wonderful book Mr. Tucker and the twins had given him. It was about4,000 pages of poetry, every well known poem that ever was writtenalmost, with every form of index. He was feverishly looking for halfremembered poems of long ago and would hail with delight every now andthen something entirely forgotten.
"Listen to this, Tucker! By Jove, I haven't seen this since I used torecite it at school:
"'I am dying, Egypt, dying! Ebbs the crimson life-tide fast And the dark Plutonian shadows Gather on the evening blast; Let thine arms, O Queen, enfold me, Hush thy sobs and bow thine ear, Listen to the great heart-secrets Thou, and thou alone, must hear.
* * * * *
"'And for thee, star-eyed Egyptian-- Glorious sorceress of the Nile!-- Light the path to Stygian horrors, With the splendor of thy smile; Give the Caesar crowns and arches, Let his brow the laurel twine: I can scorn the Senate's triumphs, Triumphing in love like thine.
"'I am dying, Egypt, dying! Hark! the insulting foeman's cry; They are coming--quick, my falchion! Let me front them ere I die. Ah, no more amid the battle Shall my heart exulting swell; Isis and Osiris guard thee Cleopatra--Rome--Farewell!'"
Father had arisen from his chaise longue and was declaiming like aschool boy. We applauded him violently. I loved to see him so happy andso carefree. He usually had so many sick and poor people to bother him,but on this day, thanks in part to his foresight in saving up the SantaClaus act for Christmas morning, he had not been sent for, and he hopedthe day would pass in idleness.
It took two down cushions to give Zebedee's embonpoint the proper "bowlfull of jelly" contour. The red dressing gown was snugly belted inaround it, and, having been considerably turned up before we sewed onthe imitation ermine, it reached in graceful folds to the top of thehunting boots. The beard was a masterpiece and was kept in place by abit of elastic fastened in the back. We made a moustache out of thelittle tails on the old tippet and he was forced to submit to surgeon'splaster to hold that on.
"But s'pose I give a Tucker sneeze! This contraption certainly doestickle my nose;" and forthwith Santa Claus did explode into a regularTucker sneeze, thereby bursting his belt and unpinning his tum-tum sothat much of the work had to be done over.
"Now, Zebedee, stop!" commanded Dum. "You know perfectly well you do nothave to sneeze so loud."
"All right, Miss Plympton," teased the offender, and gave anothersneeze.
"We might just as well wait until he gets through," sighed Dee. "Italways takes at least three to satisfy a Tucker."
So we waited until the third and last explosion shook the house and thenpinned on the down pillows again and put his belt back in place. Thetoboggan cap with the tippet sewed in for hair gave the proper finishingtouch, and Zebedee stood forth as lovable and charming a Santy as onecould find.
"Well, we can 'glimpse for once the rotund, jolly wight,'" quoted Wink."I almost wish I were a little nig so I could experience the sensationsthey will have when they see you driving up to the cabin, Mr. Tucker."
"Now for the 'bundle of toys he had flung on his back'," and Dum hungover his shoulder a laundry bag stuffed full of lumpy, bumpy stockings.
Putting the things in a stocking was a plan Zebedee had suggested,--onethey use in the cities for Christmas. A mate to the stocking must be putin the toe and that means that each child gets a pair of stockings aswell as its share of candy, nuts, toys, etc.
"I bet Aunt Keziah will be pleased with this thing of bringingstockings, too. It will save the old woman lots of darning," saidFather, who looked up from his poetry book to admire our handiwork.
Dum was putting the finishing touches to Zebedee's countenance. I didnot think he needed paint as his cheeks were rosy enough, but Dum lovedto fix up people's faces and black their eyebrows, and Zebedee likednothing better than being fixed up.
"It gives you the feeling that you can make as big a monkey of yourselfas you want to, if you just are disguised a little," and our Santa Clausbristled his great white moustache and patted his down pillowsapprovingly.
Mammy Susan and Blanche and bow-legged Bill were called in to see oldSanty, and great was their delight and joy.
"Lord!" said Bill. "If'n he don' look jis' lak a picture er Santy I seedone time whin I was on de steamboat on de Mississip."
"Aw, you allus got ter tell 'bout dat time you went a trabblin' on aboat. I low you wa'nt nothin' but a low lived roustabout at best," saidMammy Susan, anxious to keep Bill in his place, which, in herestimation, was way in the back.
"You is sho mo' natural than life, Mr. Tucker. The infantry of the areaof this vicinity should elevate theyselves and denounce you as blessed.'As much as you have done the least of my little ones you have kep' myremandments.'"
Mammy accepted the effusions of Blanche with perfect composure. Billlooked at her with admiration in his rolling stewed-prune eyes. I wouldhave been glad of Santa Claus' beard to laugh behind. Zebedee tookadvantage of it, but the rest of us had to keep straight faces until thecoloure
d contingent took their departure.
"Hitch Peg to the cutter!" called Father to Bill. "I am afraid therewill be too much hilarity for the colt, Tucker, otherwise I'd give youthe pleasure of driving him this brisk morning."
"Drive! Do you think I could drive anything around this protuberance?"he laughed, patting his make-up. "Why, I can't reach the buttons on myown waistcoat. Page will have to drive me."
"But then they'll all of them know you are not Santa Claus if they seeme."
"Nonsense, daughter! They'll think he is Santa Claus if you are along.The only Christmas they have ever had has come through us, and they willjust think we have invited Santy here to amuse them. I think we cantrust Mr. Tucker to act the part. I am going to beg off and stay homewith my book," and the dear man sank back in his chaise longue andburied his nose once more in his four thousand pages of poetry.
So I drove Zebedee, and the girls and Wink went with Jo Winn and the NewYork cousin in a great old double sleigh that must have been in the Winnfamily as long as our family coach had been in ours.
Father put down his beloved book long enough to see us off, and thenwith a great sigh of content, mixed with relief, sank back on hiscushions and resumed his search for old favourites.
What a merry crowd we were! Zebedee cracked his whip and
"Whistled and shouted and called them by name. On, Dasher and Dancer! On, Prancer and Vixen! On, Comet and Cupid! On, Dunder and Blitzen!"
Old Peg did not know exactly what to make of all her new names, but likethe intelligent beast she was, she divined that it meant to go as fastas she could, so she snow-dusted Jo Winn's team until they had to dropback a few yards. If it had not been for me, I think Zebedee's turn outwould have fooled any one inclined to believe in St. Nick. Of course Pegdid not look much like eight tiny reindeer, but then, he might have lefthis reindeer team in the Antarctic Circle and picked up a mere horse forthe rest of the journey, which would have been a most thoughtful thingfor our beloved Saint to have done.
The little pickaninnies were on the lookout for Docallison, and as weneared Aunt Keziah's cabin a shout went up from the bushes where some ofthe little boys were hiding, watching the bend in the road. The windowwas black with expectant faces and Zebedee said he thought their smileswere more beautiful than any Christmas wreaths he had ever seen. Youremember that Aunt Keziah was the neighbourhood "Tender," that is, shelooked after all the children whose mothers were away in service. Shewas quite an institution and Father said did much to lower the deathrate of her race. She raised a healthy crowd of children and as a rulethey turned out to be a mannerly lot as well.
"Perliteness is cheap an' a smile don' cos' no mo'n a frown," she wouldsay, "an' you kin sho' buy mo' wif it if you is a tradin' wif whitefo'ks."
Certainly there were smiles to spare that Christmas morning andpoliteness to burn. The children, fourteen in all, came tumbling out ofthe cabin when the boys in the bushes gave warning of our approach. Theythought it was Docallison until we were upon them, and then such ashouting and scrambling as was never seen. One of the strangest thingsthat ever happened was that Aunt Keziah herself believed in Santa Clausand no power on earth could shake her faith in him.
"'Cose I b'lieves in him! If'n I ain't nebber seed him befo' what datgot to do wif it? I ain't nebber yit laid eyes on Gawd an' de blessedSabior but I b'lieves; an' now I done seed Santy Claus wif my own eyes.What's mo', he done brung me gif's wif his own han'. De preacher ub aSunday done said dat Gawd would gib me honey an' de honey com', an' Iwill git gold, yea, fin' gold,--but I ain't nebber foun' none yit, an'all de honey dis here ole nigger done tas'ed fer yars an' yars is somebum'le bee honey what de chillun foun' in de woods. Cose I ain't ablamin' uf de Almighty,--I reckon he'll do fer me someday whin he gitsto it, but so fer I done ebby thing fer myse'.--But Santy here he donefoun' me and is a doin' fer me now," and the old woman munched herchocolate marshmallows, that seemed designed especially for hertoothless state, and pulled around her lean old shoulders the nice warmshawl that Santa Claus had drawn from his bursting pack.
The cabin, boasting only two rooms and a low attic where the male"boders" slept, was full to overflowing when all of us piled in, but wewere anxious to see how the little darkeys took Santa Claus and if theyreally believed in him. They did, every last one of them. There was nota doubting Thomas among them. With no incredulity to overcome, Zebedee'stask was a simple one. He told his cheerful and kindly lies with muchgusto, to the delight of all his listeners, black and white.
"Well, children, I thought I would never get here! I had so many placesto go. I was coming last night down your chimney, which is the properway to come after you are all asleep at night, but my reindeer got sotired I had to put them in a stable way up at Richmond and get down herejust the best I could, and then borrow a horse from Docallison and getMiss Page to drive me over here. By the way, Docallison sent his kindestregards to all of you,--" Here some of the little nigs made bobbingcurtseys and the ones who did not got soundly smacked by Aunt Keziah."He couldn't come this morning but he thought you wouldn't mind since Iwas coming."
At that, Little Minnie, who was one of the charity orphans Aunt Keziahwas raising, began to blubber:
"I ain't gwine take no castor ile from Santy. Docallison done tell me hegwine gib me a pinny if I tak castor ile."
"Why, if I didn't almost forget!" exclaimed the ever-ready Zebedee. "Ihave a whole dime here for a little girl who was to take castor oil,"and he began a frantic search for his pockets but the down pillows anddressing gown were too much for him and Wink came to his relief with thenecessary coin. "Now you must promise to take your medicine right away."
"But I ain't sick now!" wailed the little girl, clutching her dime. "Imeans whin I do git sick."
"Now listen to that there lil' orphant Minnie!" exclaimed Aunt Keziah."What cause she got to worrit about ile whin she ain't got ache orpain?"
"But I'se thinkin' 'bout what I'se gonter git whin I done gits through astuffin'," wailed Minnie. "I lows thin I gotter take ile."
"Well, you've got your dime now and if you get sick you must take theoil," laughed Zebedee.
"But Docallison gibs me a pinny. I ain't got no use fer a dime. AuntKeziah won't let chilluns spen' nothin' but pinnies!"
So Wink had to go through his pockets for the desired penny beforelittle Orphan Minnie would be comforted. Aunt Keziah stood by with atolerant smile on her wrinkled old face. It was a well known fact thatthe old woman spoiled all the little charity children, the ones she tookfor nothing, while she made the "bo'ders" toe the line and walk chalk.
The twins she was raising, Milly Jourdan's twins, whom she had soeuphoniously named Postle Peter and Pistle Paul, emboldened by thesuccess of Minnie, now set up a whine for pennies, too, but Aunt Keziahknocked their heads together without ceremony.
"You Postle Peter! You Pistle Paul! I'll learn you some manners, youlim's er Satan. Ain't you got sinse ernuf to know Santy Claus didn'tcome way down here from North 'Merica jis' ter listen ter yo' gabble? Asfer gittin' pinnies fer a takin' castor ile,--you know jis' as well as Ido that you lick de spoon ev'y chanct you git, you is dat fon' of ile.De ve'y las' time Docallison was here he done sayed you mak him sick tohis stomach a guzzlin' ile de way you done."
The old woman's tirade caused a general laugh, and Tweedles and I werereally uneasy for fear Santy would shake off his bowl full of jelly heroared so loud. Wink found some more pennies which he surreptitiouslyhanded to the crestfallen twins.
"Here, Pistle Peter and Postle Paul! Here's some pennies for you, tomake up for your names," he whispered to the grinning little nigs.