"Am I to read this?"
* * *
"Yes, Mrs. Bailey, that explains everything," Reddy told her.
* * *
She read:--
* * *
"In one little home there may be no Christmas
cheer; the father and mother are both ill.
There are three children; a boy of nine years,
another of five, and a girl of seven. They need
coal, clothing, food and toys. What will you
give?"
* * *
"So you're all playing at being Santa Claus," remarked Mrs. Bailey with a smile. "Well, I believe I can find something that will please you, so just stop in on your way back and I'll have it all ready for you."
* * *
"Oh, thank you!" cried all the boys, together, as they started for the sleigh, happy over the success of their first call.
* * *
"Have any luck?" asked Chuck. "But I can see you did, because you're all grinning," he added, as they told him what Mrs. Bailey had promised.
* * *
After several more visits, with the promise of something from each place if they would call later, Herbie proposed that they stop at Mrs. Lee's home, as Mary Lee had a great many dolls and might give them one of them for the little O'Reilly girl.
* * *
"That's a good idea," they all agreed, and the idea was carried out.
* * *
When Mrs. Lee had read the card she asked the boys if there was anything they needed that had not been promised.
* * *
"We wondered," replied Herbie, "if Mary would give us a doll for that little girl?"
* * *
Mrs. Lee smiled and said:
* * *
"I think I can promise you that she will. If you will call later it will give me a chance to get her."
* * *
"We'll be glad to," promised the boys, "and thank you."
* * *
At five o'clock a sleigh piled high with bundles and boys was seen turning into the Brown's driveway.
* * *
"What'll we do now?" asked Toad of the others.
* * *
"Let's drive into the barn and leave the things in the sleigh," suggested Chuck; "then we can meet here early tonight and take the things to the O'Reillys."
* * *
"All right," assented the others. "What time shall we meet?"
* * *
"At seven o'clock," said Toad.
What Mike Found
After dinner that night Chuck and Toad spent a little time helping to trim the big tree that had been put in place in the library during their absence of the afternoon. Chuck was on the top of a stepladder, tying shiny colored balls to the upper branches, when Toad, who had been busy with candy canes and popcorn balls, suddenly stopped and looked at the clock on the mantel.
"It's seven o'clock, Chuck," he cried, "and the others will be wondering why we don't come out," and at this he ran into the hall to get into his coat and cap.
Chuck took but a second to follow Toad out into the yard to meet the boys.
Mother Brown had sent her bundle and Toad's new sled to the barn by John, the stableman, who put them into the sleigh with the other things while the boys were at dinner.
"Hello, boys! Everybody here?" inquired Toad as he joined the group of boys in front of the barn.
"All but Fat," laughed Reddy, "and he'll be along in a minute. He said I walked too fast for him."
"Is everything in the sleigh?" asked Herbie, as John was hitching up.
"Everything's in all right," Toad assured him.
When about to start they found that the sleigh was so full of bundles that some of the boys had to stand on the runners. Just as they reached the street, Fat was seen coming toward them.
"Hurry up, lazy bones," called Reddy, "or you'll get left," but John good-naturedly stopped the horse until Fat had climbed aboard.
There was a full moon and the sky was bright with stars. The snow was hard beneath the horse's feet, which made the going easy, so they traveled along at a brisk pace.
"Where shall I stop?" asked John as they drew near the O'Reilly's cottage.
"Just a little this side of the house," directed Toad, "so they won't hear us."
"All off, now," ordered Reddy, as John pulled up the horse, "and help unload. Don't let's make any more noise than we can help."
"We can pile everything on the front steps," whispered Herbie, as the boys, each heavily laden with packages of all sizes and shapes, walked very quietly up the path toward the house.
Each carefully placed his bundles or boxes where Herbie had suggested and just as silently they now returned to the sleigh.
"Suppose someone comes along and takes all the things before they get up in the morning?" argued Fat. "I don't think it's safe to leave them there all night, do you?"
"Well, maybe we'd better throw some snowballs at the door," proposed Chuck, "to bring them out now."
This was accepted as a good plan, and "Bang, bang, bang!" went the balls against the door.
The sleigh, in which the boys took refuge, was well hidden behind a pine tree, so they could not be seen from the house.
* * *
"There's a light!" said Reddy in a low voice. "Someone is opening the door."
"It's Mike!" answered Herbie, excitedly. "I'll bet he can't believe his eyes."
It did seem to the others that what Herbie said was true, for, framed in the doorway of the cottage stood a boy, gazing at a great heap of bundles and boxes on the steps before him as if dazed. Once he rubbed his eyes as if to make sure he was awake, then he slowly stretched out one hand toward the beautiful new sled, hardly daring to believe it was real. Then suddenly, as the boys watched eagerly, the sled was in his arms and he was jumping up and down with joy, calling to those of his family who could, to come out to see the wonderful surprise.
"Time for us to be getting home now," whispered Chuck, and Toad, feeling very happy, answered:
"I guess you're right."
By nine o'clock Chuck and Toad were sound asleep, and the stockings, tied to the end of each bed, fell limp and empty.
Christmas Morning
"Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!" shouted Toad.
It was seven o'clock and Chuck awoke with a start and looked around him.
"Merry Christmas," he answered, and both boys scrambled down to the foot of their beds to untie the stockings full to overflowing with candies, nuts, oranges and many small gifts.
"Oh!" cried Chuck, "see what I have," holding his stocking up by the foot and shaking the contents out on the bed. "A big knife, and a top, and some reals."
"So have I! By jinks, I'm glad to get the knife,--it's a beauty, three blades!"
Chuck, who by this time had a whole candy apple in his mouth, could only nod his head in reply.
"Let's hurry up and dress so we can go down to see the tree," proposed Toad. "I'll bet there will be lots more things for us down there," and this the boys hastened to do.
"Merry Christmas," greeted Mother Brown, a few minutes later, as the boys, now fully dressed, came to her door.
"Merry Christmas, boys," called their father from the hall below, as Mother Brown and the boys hurried downstairs.
As they entered the library the very first thing that met Toad's eyes was a beautiful new sled, much larger than the one he had given the night before to Michael O'Reilly.
"Oh, is that for me?" he cried in delight as he pounced upon it. "I didn't expect to get one."
"Yes, my son," answered his father, "it is for you."
"Oh, wait until Reddy sees this!" and Toad fairly hopped about in his delight.
Chuck was very much excited over a new building game, the very thing he had hoped for, but Toad hardly had time to look at his other gifts from his many aunts and uncles, so anxious was he to go out doors to try his new sled.
After breakfast Mother Brown helped him into his co
at and found his mittens and cap, for they always seemed to run away and hide while Toad slept.
"Come on, Chuck!" he cried. "Aren't you coming out?"
"Nope, I'm going to see if I can build a derrick," was the reply, so Toad started off alone.
As he reached the hill down which most of the boys liked best to coast, he met Reddy, trudging along with his sled.
"Hey, Merry Christmas," he shouted. "Look at what Dad gave me!"
"Merry Christmas," answered Reddy. "Jingoes, that's a beauty!"
"Did you get the football you wanted?" he was asked.
"You bet I did, and a punching bag, too."
"Like the one in Daddy Williams' window?" inquired Toad.
"Just like it, and when you give it a punch, whack! it comes back at you, quick as a flash."
"What did Fat get?"
"Oh, a lot of books and a pair of ice skates," replied Reddy, "so he's gone over to White's pond to try them."
"Chuck got his building game; you know, the one he wanted, and he wouldn't come out," declared Toad in fine disgust. "He's making things with it."
"Who's that just starting?" and Reddy pointed up the long hill where some one was getting ready to coast down. "Well, if it isn't Mike O'Reilly!" he exclaimed,--"here ahead of us."
Then, as the sled with Mike lying flat on it shot past them, they greeted him with a shout.
"Hello," returned Mike, his face all aglow with joy, "look at what I got for Christmas."
"Bet you're glad now that you gave it to him," said Reddy as the two boys reached the top of the hill. "Let me go down with you the first trip?"
"You bet!" Toad assented.
"Merry Christmas," Reddy shouted, giving the sled a push from behind. "One, two, three, we're off," and down they flew.
"She's speedy, all right," he declared as the cold north wind stung his cheeks.
"And she steers like a bird," echoed Toad.
* * *
THE END
Little Maid Marian
Amy Ella Blanchard
A Mustard Seed
The cat and kitten were both eating supper and Marian was watching them. Her own supper of bread and milk she had finished, and had taken the remains of it to Tippy and Dippy. Marian did not care very much for bread and milk, but the cat and kitten did, as was plainly shown by the way they hunched themselves down in front of the tin pan into which Marian had poured their supper.
In the next room Grandpa and Grandma Otway were sitting and little bits of their talk came to Marian's ears once in a while when her thoughts ceased to wander in other directions. "If only one could have faith to believe implicitly," Grandma Otway said.
"If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, and should say to that mountain, be ye removed," quoted Grandpa Otway.
Marian sighed. They talked that way very often, she remembered, and she herself had grown to consider it quite as difficult as did her grandmother, to exercise complete faith. She had made numberless mighty efforts, and yet things did not come out as she supposed they ought. She sat gravely watching the cat and kitten lap up the last drop of milk and carefully clean the sides of the pan in a manner quite inelegant for humans, but no doubt entirely a matter of etiquette in cat society, and then when Tippy, having done her duty by the pan, turned her attention to making Dippy tidy, Marian walked slowly away.
The sun was setting behind the hills, and touching the tops of the trees along their base; further away the mountains were very dark against a yellow line of sky. Marian continued her way thoughtfully toward the garden, turned off before she reached the gate and climbed a ladder which leaned against the side of the old brick wall. From the ladder one could reach a long limb of a scraggy apple tree upon which hung early apples nearly ripe. Marian went up the ladder very carefully, taking care not to catch her frock upon a nail or a projecting twig as she crept along the stout limb to settle herself in a crotch of the tree. From this spot she could see the distant sea, pinky purple, and shimmering silver.
Marian did not gaze at this, however, but turned her face toward the mountains. She clasped her hands tightly and repeated firmly: "Be ye removed into the midst of the sea. Be ye removed into the midst of the sea." Then she waited, but the mountain did not budge an inch, though the child kept her eyes fixed upon it. Twice, three times, she repeated the words, but the mountain remained immovable. "I knew it; I just knew it," exclaimed the child when she had made her final effort, "and now I want to know how large a mustard seed is. To-morrow I'll go ask Mrs. Hunt."
It was to Mrs. Hunt that she took all such questions, for she hesitated to talk of very personal things to her grandparents. They would ask her such sharp questions, and sometimes would smile in a superior way when they did not say: "Oh, that is not a subject to discuss with children; run along and play with Tippy." She did not always want to be playing with Tippy when such mighty problems were uppermost. She had many times tested her faith with the mountain, but had always come away humiliated by the thought that her faith must be too weak.
Though she brought her test to bear upon the mountain there was another thing she did not dare to experiment with, though she always intended to do so when the mountain should answer her command to be removed. To be sure it would not make much difference to her if the mountain should remove into the sea; it probably looked quite as well where it was, and Marian supposed that no one would care to have its place changed, but it made a great and mighty difference to her about this other thing. She had never breathed her ardent wish to any one, not even to Mrs. Hunt, and now that this fresh test of faith had failed she would have to gather up a new stock before she could try again.
The purple and pink and gold were fading; the sea looked gray; the distant mountain was hidden under a cloud when Marian climbed down from her perch to answer her grandmother's call: "Marian, Marian, where are you? Come in out of the night air; the dew is falling." Dippy was chasing moths in the garden as Marian took her way toward the house. She watched him leaping up as each soft-winged creature flitted by. When he failed to catch his prize he opened his mouth in a mute meow, and looked at Marian as if asking her to help him.
"You mustn't catch moths, Dippy," said Marian. "They might disagree with you. I should think anyhow, that they would be very dry eating, and besides it is wicked to destroy innocent little creatures. Come, you must go in with me." But this was the time of day when Dippy liked specially to prance and jump and skurry after dusky, shadowy, flitting things, so before Marian could pounce upon him, he was off and away like a streak and could not be found. Then Marian went in obediently at her grandmother's second call to spend the rest of her evening sitting soberly by, while her grandmother knitted and her grandfather read his evening paper.
She had tidied up her room, fed the cat and kitten, and darned her stockings the next morning before she was free to go to Mrs. Hunt's. Grandpa would go for the mail, and there were no errands to do, except to return a plate to Mrs. Parker. It had come with some spicy cakes for grandma, and must be taken back promptly.
The garden did not attract her just then, for it looked much less mysterious by daylight. There was a fine array of poppies, larkspurs, phlox and snapdragons; the oleander in its green tub was all a-bloom, and there were six newly opened buds on the rose-bush. Dippy was fast asleep in the sunshine, as if he, too, realized that the garden was not so alluring by morning light.
It seemed no time to exercise faith upon the mountain, for a haze covered it, and one could not feel even the near presence of a thing one could not see, so why attempt to address a command to it to be removed; to all intents and purposes it was removed when it was out of sight.
Marian thought all this over as she trotted down the village street to Mrs. Hunt's. Hers was one of a line of long low white houses set back among trees. A border gay with nasturtiums, sweet peas, and marigolds flourished each side the front door, but Marian did not pause there; she went around to the kitchen where she knew Mrs. Hunt would be this time of day. T
here was a strong odor of spices, vinegar and such like filling the air. "Mrs. Hunt is making pickles," said Marian to herself; "that is why she was gathering cucumbers the last time I was here. I would rather it were cookies or doughnuts, but I suppose people can't make those every day."
True enough, Mrs. Hunt was briskly mixing spices, but she turned with a smile to her little visitor. "Well, chickadee," she said, "how goes it to-day?"
"Oh, very well," returned Marian vaguely. "Mrs. Hunt, how big is a mustard seed?"
For answer Mrs. Hunt put her fingers down into a small wooden box, withdrew them, opened Marian's rosy palm, and laid a pinch of seeds upon it. "There you are," she said. "I wish I could get at all the things I want to see as easy as that."
Marian gazed curiously at the little yellow seeds. "They're not very big, are they?" she said.
"Not very."
"Then you wouldn't have to have much faith," Marian went on, following out her thought.
Mrs. Hunt laughed. "Is that the text that's bothering you? What are you, or who are you, trying to have faith in? Tippy? Has she fooled you again by hiding another batch of kittens?"
"No, Mrs. Hunt," Marian shook her head "it isn't Tippy; she is all right, and so is Dippy, but you know if you want a thing very much and don't see anyway of getting it ever, till you are grown up and won't care about it, why it makes you feel as if—as if"—she lowered her voice to a whisper and looked intently at her listener, "as if either you were very wicked or as if—that about the mustard seed—as if"—she hesitated, then blurted out hurriedly, "as if it weren't true."
The Big Book of Christmas Page 13