Christmas with Grandma Elsie

by Martha Finley

  CHAPTER IX.

  Before morning the weather had moderated very much, a thaw had set in,and the snow was going rapidly.

  "Well, what sports shall we contrive for to-day?" asked Herbert, at thebreakfast table. "Certainly both skating and snow fights are entirelyout of the question."

  "Entirely!" echoed Harold; "all other outdoor sports also; for adrizzling rain is beginning to fall, and the melting snow has coveredroads and paths with several inches of water."

  "We have some games for the house which you have not tried yet," saidtheir mother; "'Table croquet,' 'Parlor Quoits,' 'Parlor Ring Toss,'Jack-straws and others."

  "And I have a new game that papa gave me this Christmas--'The Flags ofall Nations,'" remarked Lulu. "I brought it with me."

  "We will be glad to see it," said Harold.

  "It is probably improving as well as entertaining," remarked Zoe. "Ishould judge so from the name."

  "I think you will find it both," said the captain.

  "So you would 'Corn and Beans,' too, Aunt Zoe," said Max. "Papa gave itto me, and we tried it Christmas eve at home, and found it very funny."

  The morning and most of the afternoon were occupied with these games,which seemed to afford much enjoyment to the children and young people.

  It was the winding up of their Christmas festivities at Ion, and allwere in the mood for making it as gay and mirthful as possible.Some--the Raymonds among others--would leave shortly after tea, the restby or before bedtime.

  They finished the sports of the afternoon with two charades. The olderpeople were the spectators, the younger ones the actors.

  Mendicant was the word chosen for the first.

  A number of the boys and girls came trooping into the parlor, eachcarrying an old garment, thimble on finger, and needle and thread inhand. Seating themselves they fell to work.

  Zoe was patching an old coat, Lulu an apron, Gracie a doll's dress; Evaand Rosie each had a worn stocking drawn over her hand, and was busilyengaged in darning it; the other girls were mending gloves, the boys oldshoes; and as they worked they talked among themselves.

  "Zoe," said Maud, "I should mend that coat differently."

  "How would you mend it?" asked Zoe.

  "With a patch much larger than that you are sewing on it."

  "I shouldn't mend it that way," remarked Sydney. "I'd darn it."

  "Thank you both for your very kind and disinterested advice," sniffedZoe. "But I learned how to mend before I ever saw you. And I should mendthose gloves in a better way than you are taking."

  "If you know so well how to mend, Madam Zoe, will you please give mesome instruction about mending this shoe?" said Herbert. "Cobbling isnot in my line."

  "Neither is it in mine, Sir Herbert," she returned, drawing herself upwith a lofty air.

  "Such silly pride! They should mend their ways if not their garments,"remarked Maud, in a scornful aside.

  "One should think it beneath her to mend even a worn stocking," saidRosie.

  "No," responded Eva, "and she should mend it well."

  "Your first syllable is not hard to guess, children," said Mrs.Dinsmore; "evidently it is mend."

  With that the actors withdrew, and presently Chester Dinsmore returnedalone, marching in and around the room with head erect and pompous air.His clothes were of fine material and fashionable cut, he wore handsomejewelry, sported a gold headed cane, and strutted to and fro, gazingabout him with an air of lofty disdain as of one who felt himselfsuperior to all upon whom his glances fell.

  Harold presently followed him into the room. He was dressed as a countryswain, came in with modest, diffident air, and for a while stoodwatching Chester curiously from the opposite side of the apartment, thencrossing over, he stood before him, hat in hand, and bowing low.

  "Sir," he said respectfully, "will you be so kind as to tell me if youare anybody in particular? I'm from the country, and shouldn't like tomeet any great man and not know it."

  "I, sir?" cried Chester, drawing himself up to his full height, andswelling with importance. "I? I am the greatest man in America; thegreatest man of the age; I am Mr. Smith, sir, the inventor of the mostdelicious ices and confectionery ever eaten."

  "Thank you, sir," returned Harold, with another low bow. "I shall alwaysbe proud and happy to have met so great a man."

  Laughter, clapping of hands, and cries of "I! I!" among the spectators,as the two withdrew by way of the hall.

  Soon the young actors flocked in again. A book lay on a table, quitenear the edge. With a sudden jerk Herbert threw it on the floor.

  Rosie picked it up and replaced it, saying: "Can't you let thingsalone?"

  "Rosie, why can't you let the poor boy alone?" whined her cousin, LoraHoward. "No one has ever known me to be guilty of such an exhibition oftemper; it's positively wicked."

  "Oh, you're very good, Lora," sniffed Zoe. "I can't pretend to be half soperfect."

  "Certainly I can't," said Eva.

  "I can't."

  "I can't," echoed Lulu, Max, and several others.

  "Come now, children, can't you be quiet a bit?" asked Harold. "I can'tauction off these goods unless you are attending and ready with yourbids."

  Setting down a basket he had brought in with him, he took an articlefrom it and held it high in air.

  "We have here an elegant lace veil worth perhaps a hundred dollars; itis to be sold now to the highest bidder. Somebody give us a bid for thisbeautiful piece of costly lace, likely to go for a tithe of its realvalue."

  "One dollar," said Rosie.

  "One dollar, indeed! We could never afford to let it go at so low afigure; we can't sell this elegant and desirable article of ladies'attire so ridiculously low."

  "Ten dollars," said Maud.

  "Ten dollars, ten dollars! This elegant and costly piece of lace goingat ten dollars!" cried the auctioneer, holding it higher still andwaving it to and fro. "Who bids higher? It is worth ten times thatpaltry sum; would be dirt cheap at twenty. Somebody bid twenty; don'tlet such a chance escape you; you can't expect to have another such. Whobids? Who bids?"

  "Fifteen," bid Zoe.

  "Fifteen, fifteen! this lace veil, worth every cent of a hundreddollars, going at fifteen? Who bids higher? Now's your chance; you can'thave it much longer. Going, going at fifteen dollars--this elegant veil,worth a cool hundred. Who bids higher? Going, going at fifteen dollars,not a quarter of its value. Will nobody bid higher? Going, going, gone!"

  "Can't," exclaimed several of the audience, as the veil was handed toZoe, and the whole company of players retired.

  They shortly returned, all dressed in shabby clothing, some with walletson their backs, some with old baskets on their arms, an unmistakabletroop of beggars, passing round among the spectators with whiningpetitions for cold victuals and pennies.

  A low growl instantly followed by a loud, fierce bark, startled playersand spectators alike, and called forth a slight scream from some of thelittle ones.

  "That auld dog o' mine always barks at sic a troop o' mendicants,"remarked Cousin Ronald quietly. "I ken mendicant's the word, lads andlasses, and ye hae acted it out wi' commendable ingenuity and success."

  "You couldn't have made a better guess if you had belonged to theuniversal Yankee nation, cousin," laughed Herbert.

  They retired again and in a few minutes Eva and Lulu came in dressed intravelling attire, each with a satchel in her hand.

  "This must be the place, I think," said Eva, glancing from side to side,"but there seems to be no one in."

  "They may be in directly," said Lulu, "let us sit down and rest in thesecomfortable looking chairs, while we wait."

  They seated themselves, and as they did so, Zoe and Maud walked in.

  They too were dressed as travelers, and carried satchels. The four shookhands, Zoe remarking, "So you got in here before us! How did you come?"

  "In the stage," answered Lulu.

  "Ah! one travels so slowly in that! We came in the cars," said Maud.

&n
bsp; "Yes," said Zoe; "in the train that just passed."

  "Let us go back in the cars, Lu," said Eva.

  "Yes; in the same train they take. Oh! who is this coming? He acts likea crazy man!" as Frank Dinsmore entered, gesticulating wildly, rollinghis eyes and acting altogether very much like a madman.

  Chester was following close at his heels.

  "Don't be alarmed, ladies," he said, "he shall not harm you. I'll takecare of that; I have my eye on him all the time; never let him out of mysight. I am his keeper."

  "But he's dangerous, isn't he?" they asked, shrinking from Frank'sapproach, as if in great fear.

  "Not while I am close at hand," said Chester. "I'll see that he disturbsno one."

  "I think it would be well for us to go now, girls," said Zoe. "Let usask the driver of that stage to take us in; then we'll be safe from thislunatic."

  They hurried out and in another minute Chester and Frank followed.

  Then Edward came in, walked up to the fire and stood leaning against themantelpiece in seemingly thoughtful mood; but as the lady travelersagain appeared at the door, he started and went forward to receive them.

  "Walk in, ladies," he said; "walk into the parlor. Pray be seated,"handing them chairs. "Now what can I do for you?"

  "You are the innkeeper?" asked Zoe.

  "At your service, madam. Do you wish a room? or rooms?"

  "Yes; we will have two; and let them be adjoining, if possible."

  "Certainly, madam; we can accommodate you in that and will be happy todo so."

  Then turning to the spectators, "Can you tell us our word, ladies andgentlemen?" he asked.

  "Innkeeper," was the prompt response from several voices.

  "Quite correct," he said. Then with a sweeping bow, "This closes ourentertainment for the evening, and with many thanks for their kindattention we bid our audience a grateful adieu."

  Half an hour later tea was served, and upon the conclusion of the mealthe guests began to take their departure.

  The family separated for the night earlier than usual, but Harold andHerbert followed their mother to her dressing-room, asking if she felttoo weary for a little chat with them.

  "Not at all," she said with her own sweet smile. "I know of nothing thatwould afford me greater satisfaction than one of the oldtime motherlytalks with my dear college boys; so come in, my dears, and let us haveit."

  Harold drew forward an easy chair for her, but she declined it. "No, Iwill sit on the sofa, so that I can have you close to me, one on eachside," she said.

  "That will suit your boys, exactly, mamma, if you will be quite ascomfortable," said Herbert, placing a hassock for her feet, as sheseated herself.

  "Quite," she returned, giving a hand to each as they placed themselvesbeside her. "Now remember that your mother will be glad of yourconfidence in everything that concerns you, great or small; nothing thatinterests you or affects your happiness in the very least, can fail tohave an interest for her."

  "We know it, dearest mamma," said Harold, "and are most happy in theassurance that such is the fact."

  "Yes," assented Herbert, lifting her hand to his lips, "and it is thatwhich makes a private chat with our mother so great a delight; that andour mutual love. Mamma, dear, I can not believe I shall ever meetanother woman who will seem to me at all comparable to my dearly lovedand honored mother."

  "Such words from the lips of my son are very sweet to my ear," sheresponded, a tender light shining in her eyes, "and yet for your ownsake I hope you are mistaken; I would have all my children know thehappiness to be found in married life where mutual admiration, esteemand love are so great that the two are as one."

  "Such a marriage as yours, mamma?"

  "Yes; there could not be a happier. But I am looking far ahead for mycollege boys," she added with a smile; "at least I trust so; for you areover young yet to be looking for life partners."

  "I don't think either of us has begun on that thus far, mamma," saidHarold. "At present we are more solicitous to decide the importantquestion, what shall our principal life work be? and in that we desirethe help of our mother's counsel, and to follow her wishes."

  "It is a question of very great importance," she said, "for your successand usefulness in life will depend very largely upon your finding thework your heavenly Father intends you to do, and for which you are bestfitted by the talents He has given you.

  "But I thought you had both decided upon the medical profession; and Iwas well content with your choice, for it is a most noble and usefulcalling."

  "So we thought mamma, but recently our hearts have been so moved atthought of the millions perishing for lack of a saving knowledge ofChrist, that it has become a momentous question with each of us whetherhe is called to preach the gospel, especially in the mission-field, athome or abroad."

  Her eyes shone through glad tears. "My dear boy," she said with emotion,"to have sons in the ministry I should esteem the greatest honor thatcould be put upon me; for there can be no higher calling than that of anambassador for Christ, no grander work than that of winning souls."

  "So we both think," said Herbert, "and, mamma, you are willing we shouldgo and labor wherever we may be called in the providence of God?"

  "Yes, oh yes! you are more His than mine; I dedicated you to his serviceeven before you were born, and many times afterward. I would not darestand in your way, nor would I wish to; for dearly as I love you both,sweet as your presence is to me, I am more than willing to deny myselfthe joy of having you near me for the sake of the Master's cause, andthat you may win the reward of those to whom He will say at the last,'Well done, good and faithful servant; enter thou into the joy of theLord.' Are you particularly drawn to the foreign field?"

  "No, mamma," answered Harold, "the cause is one--'the field is theworld'--but while we are deeply interested in foreign missions anddesirous to do all we can to help there, we feel that their prosperitydepends upon the success of the work at home, and that the cause of homemissions is the cause of our country also; for that cause we would laborand give as both patriots and Christians.

  "Look at the dangers threatening our dear native land--and the cause ofChrist also--from vice and illiteracy, Popery and Mormonism, all ever onthe increase from the rapid influx of undesirable immigrants--paupers,insane, anarchists, criminals. Ah how surely and speedily they willsweep away our liberties, both civil and religious, unless we rouseourselves and put forth every energy to prevent it! Never a truer sayingthan that 'eternal vigilance is the price of liberty!' and nothing cansecure it to us but the instruction and evangelization of thesedangerous classes. Is it not so, mamma?"

  "Yes," she assented; "I am satisfied that the gospel of Christ is theonly remedy for those threatening evils, the only safeguard of ourliberties, as well as the only salvation for a lost and ruined world.

  "And, my dear boys, if you devote yourselves to that work it shall beyour mother's part, your mother's joy, to provide the means for yoursupport. I can not go into the work myself, so the sending of my sonsand supporting them while they labor, must be my contribution to thecause.

  "But I see no reason why you should give up the idea of studyingmedicine, since so many medical missionaries are needed. My plan wouldbe to prepare you for both preaching and practising, if you have talentfor both."

  "We have thought of that," said Harold, "and as you approve, dearestmamma, we will hope to carry it out."

  "I am so glad, mamma, that you have large means and the heart to usethem in the work of spreading abroad the glad tidings of salvationthrough Christ," Herbert remarked.

  "Yes," she said "it is both a responsibility and a privilege to beentrusted with so much of my Lord's money; pray for your mother, my dearboys, that she may have grace and wisdom to dispense it aright."

  "We will, mamma, we do; and oh how often we rejoice in having a motherto whom we can confidently apply in behalf of a good object! You havemany times given us the joy of relieving misery and providinginstruction for the ignorant an
d depraved."

  "It has been a joy to me to be able to do so," she said thoughtfully,"yet I fear I have not denied myself as I ought for the sake of givinglargely."

  "Mamma, you have always given largely since I have been old enough tounderstand anything about such matters," interrupted Harold warmly;"yes, very largely."

  "If every one had given, and would give as largely in proportion tomeans," remarked Herbert, "the Lord's treasury would be full tooverflowing. Is it not so, Harold?"

  "Surely; and mamma has never been one to spend unnecessarily onherself," replied Harold, fondly caressing the hand he held.

  "It has been my endeavor to be a faithful steward," she sighed, "and yetI might have given more than I have. I have been giving only of myincome; I could give some of the principal; and I have a good manyvaluable jewels that might be turned into money for the Lord's treasury.

  "I have thought a good deal about that of late and have talked with mydaughters in regard to the matter; I thought it but right to consultwith them, because the jewels would be a part of their inheritance, andI wish you two to have some say about it also, as fellow heirs withthem."

  She paused and both lads answered quickly that they thought the jewelsshould all go to their sisters.

  "No; you and your future wives should have a share also," she repliedsmilingly; "that is if I retained them all. And that being understood,are you willing to have most of them disposed of and the proceeds usedin aid of home and foreign missions?"

  Both gave a hearty assent.

  "Thank you, my dears," she said. "And now having already consulted withyour grandfather and older brother, winning their consent and approval,I consider the matter settled.

  "A few of my jewels, dear to me as mementoes of the past, I shallretain; also a few others which would not sell for nearly what they arereally worth to us; but the rest I intend to have sold and the moneyused for the spread of the gospel in our own and heathen lands."

  "I am convinced you could not make a better investment, mamma," Haroldsaid, his eyes shining with pleasure.

  "Yes, you are right," she returned, "it is an investment; one that cannot possibly fail to give a grand return: for does He not say, 'He thathath pity upon the poor lendeth to the Lord; and that which he hathgiven will he pay him again?'

  "Who was it (Dean Swift if I remember aright) who preached a charitysermon from that text--'If you like the security, down with the dust'?"

  "And you do like the security, mamma; you prefer it to any other, I amquite sure," said Herbert. "But what a fine specimen of a charity sermonthat was! both powerful and brief. Doubtless many of the hearers weregreatly relieved that they had not to listen to a long, dull harangue onthe subject, and all the more disposed to give liberally on thataccount."

  "Yes; do not forget to act upon that idea, when your turn comes topreach a sermon on that subject," Harold said, giving his youngerbrother a mischievous smile.

  "And let us not forget the lesson of the text when the appeal comes tous," added their mother. "Oh my dear boys, what a privilege it is to bepermitted to make such investments! and to be sowers of the good seedwhether by personal effort or in providing the means for sending outothers as laborers. Let us endeavor to be of the number of those who sowlargely in both ways; for 'He which soweth sparingly shall reap alsosparingly; and he that soweth bountifully shall reap also bountifully.'

  "And the harvest is sure; at the end of the world; if not sooner. Andwhether we give in one way or the other, let us not do it 'grudgingly orof necessity,' but joyfully and with all our hearts, for God loveth acheerful giver."

  "Mamma," said Harold earnestly, "we do both feel it a great and blessedprivilege to be permitted to be co-workers with God for the advancementof his cause and kingdom."

  With that the conversation turned upon other themes, but presently theboys kissed the dear mother good night and withdrew lest they should robher of needed rest.