The Big Book of Christmas

by Anton Chekhov

  "I—I didn't mean to do it. I only wanted a cake!"

  "Well, you busted it, an' now somebody's got to pay for it!" came another voice, and one that was rather angry.

  Daddy Bunker hurried around to the other side of the ticket office, and the others, including Grandpa Ford, followed. There, standing near the lunch counter, with a broken bowl at his feet, and cakes scattered around him, stood Mun Bun. In front of him was the young man who had charge of the station lunch counter.

  "Oh, Mun Bun!" sighed his mother.

  "Why, Mun Bun! what happened?" asked his father.

  "He happened—that!" exclaimed the young man. "He pulled it over, off the counter, and it smashed. And look at the cakes—all spoiled."

  "Not all spoiled," said Mun Bun. "I can eat 'em, an' so can Margy. We're both hungry!"

  "Did you pull over the bowl of cakes?" asked Mr. Bunker.

  "Yes," admitted Mun Bun, "I did. I reached up to get one, and the bowl tipped over on me and they all spilled."

  "And the bowl broke," said the lunch-counter young man.

  "I'll pay for it, Tom," said Grandpa Ford, who seemed to know the young man. "That'll be all right. I'll pay for the bowl and thecakes, too. Some of them are all right. They fell on this newspaper."

  And this was true. Mun Bun had reached up, standing on his tip-toes, to get a cake out of the bowl. As he said, he was hungry, and while Daddy Bunker and Grandpa Ford were talking about getting the children something to eat, Mun Bun had wandered off by himself, found the lunch counter, and started to help himself. But he was not quite tall enough, and the glass bowl had fallen with a crash.

  The cakes had scattered out, but, as Grandpa Ford had said, some of them had fallen on a clean newspaper which some one had dropped on the depot floor just before the accident.

  Grandpa Ford, Daddy Bunker and Tom, the lunchman, picked up the clean cakes and put them in another bowl. The broken pieces of the smashed bowl and the cakes that had gone on the floor were also picked up.

  "Well, now that we're all here, we might as well get the children something to eat," said Grandpa Ford. "Tom can give them hot milk and cakes, and we grown-folks can have some hot coffee to get us ready for the ride out to Great Hedge. Tom, can you take care of this big family?"

  "Oh, I guess so," was the answer, and the lunchman was not angry now, for he saw he would lose nothing by what Mun Bun had done.

  The six little Bunkers ate well, for the other five, as well as Mun Bun, were hungry. Then, when the grown-ups had been fed, and the broken bowl paid for, Grandpa Ford went out into the storm to tell his man, who was in charge of the horses and sled, that the party was ready to start. The horses had been kept waiting under a shed so they would be out of the storm.

  "Oh, that sounds just like Santa Claus!" cried Margy, as the sound of jingling bells was heard outside the depot.

  It seemed rather hard to leave the cosy, bright, warm station at that hour of the night and start out into the darkness and storm. But the children did not mind it. They were too eager to get to Great Hedge and see Grandma Ford. That is, most of them were. Perhaps Mun Bun and Margy were a bit too sleepy to care much what happened.

  "But we can cuddle them down in the straw in the bottom of the sled, cover them with blankets and let them go to sleep," said Grandpa Ford, as he noted the blinking eyes of the two youngest Bunkers. "They'll go to sleep and be at Great Hedge before they know it."

  "How can you find it in the dark?" asked Vi.

  "Oh, the horses know the way," answered the old gentleman. "Come on."

  "I'm going to make up a riddle about a horse," began Laddie. "I have it almost made up. It's about what kind of a tree would you like to drive."

  "You can't drive a tree!" exclaimed Russ. "All you can do is to climb it, or cut it down. So there!"

  "Yes, you can!" insisted Laddie. "You can drive my riddle kind of tree."

  "You can not! Can you, Mother?" appealed Russ. "You can climb a tree and cut it down, and that's all you can do to it, isn't it?"

  "You can sit in the shade of it," said Rose.

  "Oh, yes, well, but that doesn't count!" said Russ.

  "Anyhow it's a riddle," went on Laddie. "What kind of a tree would you like to drive?"

  "We haven't any time for riddles now," said Mother Bunker. "Come along, children, Grandpa is waiting!"

  And, with Laddie's riddle still unanswered, they went out into the darkness and the storm.

  At first it rather took away the breath of the children—that is, of the four oldest. Mun Bun was carried by his mother, while Daddy Bunker took Margy in his arms. Thus they were cuddled up so the cold wind and snow could not blow on them. Grandpa Ford wanted to carry Violet from the depot out to the waiting sled, but she said she was big enough to walk.

  The sled stood near the depot platform, and the lights from the station shone on it, so it was easy to tuck the children in. Down in the warm straw, and under the warm blankets, the six little Bunkers were placed, until no cold wind nor snow could get at them.

  "Well, I guess we're all ready, Dick," said Grandpa Ford to his hired man, who was to drive. "Think we can make it?"

  "Oh, yes, Mr. Ford," was the answer. "The horses are anxious to get home, and the roads aren't as bad as they'll be in the morning."

  "Well, when we get to Great Hedge we can stay there a long time," said Grandpa Ford. "Go ahead, Dick."

  "Go 'long, horses!" called Dick, at the same time cracking his whip. Of course he did not hit the horses with it. He just snapped it in the air over their backs.

  Away they sprang, with a jingle of bells, their feet making no noise in the soft snow. Away they went, and on down the road which was white with the crystal flakes that sparkled in the light of a lantern that was hung underneath the big sled.

  "How long a drive is it?" asked Mrs. Bunker.

  "Oh, about half an hour," answered Grandpa Ford. "We'll be there before you know it. It's downhill, and the horses are anxious to get to their warm stable."

  And this seemed to be true, for the animals, with the jingling bells around them, raced bravely along. Mun Bun and Margy fell asleep almost at once, it was so warm and cosy in Grandpa's sled. But the other children peered out now and then from beneath the robes. However, they were soon glad to pull their heads in again, for it was very cold.

  The drive, too, was longer than Grandpa Ford thought it would be, as one of the roads was so blocked with a drift that the sled could not get through, and they had to drive around it.

  "But we'll get through!" said Grandpa Ford.

  On and on they went. It was a long, cold ride, but it came to an end at last. Russ, peering up over a blanket, saw, down the road, a large, black patch, and from it a light seemed to glow.

  "Is that another railroad station?" he asked.

  "No, that's Great Hedge," answered Grandpa Ford. "The black part you see is the hedge around the house, and the light comes from a lantern I have outside. Here we are at Great Hedge at last!"

  The sled turned into a driveway and stopped beneath a sort of covered porch.

  "Whoa!" called Dick to the horses.

  A door opened, letting out a glow of warm, cheerful light.

  "Are the six little Bunkers there?" asked a voice.

  "Yes, every one, and the two big Bunkers, too!" answered Grandpa Ford. "Come on, children! Here's Grandma Ford all ready with that bread and jam for you!"

  "Oh, I'm so glad!" sighed Rose. "I was getting hungry again."

  "So was I," admitted Russ.

  "Now I'm going to finish my riddle," declared Laddie, as he untangled himself from the robes.

  "And we can begin to hunt for the ghost," whispered Rose to Russ.

  "Yes," he whispered back.

  Mun Bun and Margy were awakened and carried in the house. Oh, how nice and warm it was after the storm!

  "Have you really got bread and jam?" asked Vi.

  "Yes, indeed, my dear, I have!" laughed Grandma Ford, hugging and kissing her,
and then hugging and kissing, in turn, the other five little Bunkers.

  "Wait till you hear my riddle," began Laddie. "What kind of a tree would you like——"

  And just then a loud noise sounded through the house. It was as if a giant had uttered a deep groan.

  "O-u-g-h-m!"

  Grandpa and Grandma Ford looked at each other. So did Daddy and Mother Bunker. And Rose leaned over and whispered to Russ:

  "That's the ghost!"

  The Night Noise

  Outside of Great Hedge the wind howled and the snow whirled about in white flakes. Inside it was warm, light and cosy. But the queer noise which had sounded, and which had seemed so to startle the grown folk, came from inside, and not outside. At least that is what Rose and Russ thought.

  "It's the ghost!" said Rose again.

  "Nonsense!" laughed Daddy Bunker. "What do you children know about ghosts? There aren't such things. There never has been a ghost and never will be one. That was the wind."

  "Maybe it was," agreed Russ, who was not quite as ready as his sister was to think of ghosts.

  "Of course it was!" exclaimed Grandma Ford. "The wind often howls that way in winter. And now come over where it's warmer, and I'll get you all some bread and jam. You must be hungry, aren't you?"

  "I am," said Mun Bun. "I went to get some cakes in the depot, and I——"

  "Yes, and he pulled over the whole bowl full and it broke," said Margy, interrupting Mun Bun's story. "And the man was awful mad!"

  "But we ate the cakes, anyhow," added Mun Bun. "They fell on a paper and most of 'em were clean. Have you got cakes, Grandma?"

  "Bless your heart! Lots of 'em. But I don't believe cake will be good for you at night; especially after you've had some, as you did at the depot. But bread and jam and a glass of milk won't hurt you, and you shall have that. Do any of the rest of you want anything to eat?"

  "I do!" cried Vi. "Where do you keep your things to eat, Grandma? Have you got a big pantry?"

  "I guess Vi is afraid you won't have enough," laughed Mrs. Bunker.

  "Oh, I laid in a big stock of food when I heard the six little Bunkers were coming," said Grandpa Ford.

  Neither Russ nor Rose said anything then about the ghost. But they saw that their father and Grandpa Ford were talking together in one corner of the room.

  "Maybe they're talking about that," whispered Rose.

  "Yes," agreed Russ, also in a whisper. "But let's get something to eat, and then we can hunt by ourselves. You're not afraid, are you, Rose?"

  "No. Are you?"

  "I—I guess not! No, I'm not afraid," and Russ spoke more firmly now. "It's so nice and light here I'm not a bit afraid," he went on.

  Grandma Ford led the six little Bunkers out to the dining-room, where the table was already set waiting for them. There seemed to be plenty of bread and jam on it, and other things, too.

  "Can't I tell my riddle now?" asked Laddie when they were all seated at the table and had eaten something. "Don't you want to hear it, Grandma?"

  "Yes, of course I do, my dear. What is it?"

  "What kind of a tree would you rather drive?" asked Laddie. "That's the riddle. Russ says you can't drive a tree, that you can only climb it or chop it down, or burn it up."

  "And I said you could sit in the shade of it," added Rose.

  "Well, all of those things can be done to trees," said Grandma Ford with a smile, as she gave Mun Bun some more bread and jam. "I think I should like best sitting in the shade of a tree. But what is your riddle, Laddie?"

  "Oh, you have to guess it!" exclaimed the little fellow. "I ask you the question and you have to answer it. That's what a riddle is for. Now, I ask you, what kind of a tree would you rather drive?"

  Grandma Ford thought for a moment, and then said:

  "A dogwood tree if it wouldn't bite."

  "Is there a dogwood tree?" asked Laddie.

  "Yes," answered Grandma Ford. "And very pretty blossoms it has on it, too. Is that the answer to your riddle?"

  "No'm," answered Laddie. "It's a horse chestnut tree. That's the kind you'd rather drive, wouldn't you? A horse chestnut!" and he laughed gleefully.

  "Well, I guess that would be the most proper sort of tree to drive," said Grandpa Ford, who came in just then with Daddy Bunker.

  "And I'll take my dogwood tree along to run under the wagon that your horse chestnut is pulling," said Grandma Ford.

  "What makes some dogs—the kind with black spots on—trot under wagons?" asked Vi. "Is it so they won't get rained on?"

  "I guess that's as good a reason as any," said her father.

  So the six little Bunkers ate their supper—rather a late one, for the storm had delayed them—and then they sat about and talked for a while. Grandma Ford asked the children all about themselves, where they had been visiting and so on, and they told her about having been to Grandma Bell's, to Aunt Jo's, and to Cousin Tom's.

  "It was warm while we were at all those places," said Rose. "And now it is winter."

  "I guess you'd say so if you looked outdoors!" exclaimed Russ, who came back from having peered from a window. "It's snowing terrible hard."

  "Then we can make lots of snow men!" exclaimed Laddie. "That will be heaps of fun."

  "You'll have to be well wrapped up when you go out," remarked Grandma Ford. "It is colder here than it is during the winter at your home, so put on your coats every time you go out."

  "The place for them to go now is to bed!" said Mrs. Bunker. "Mun Bun and Margy are asleep in their chairs this very minute, and Vi is almost asleep. Come, children, off to bed with you!"

  Outside it was darker than ever, and still snowing and blowing hard. But Grandpa's house at Great Hedge was the nicest place in the world.

  "Did the horses go to bed?" sleepily asked Mun Bun as his mother carried him up.

  "Yes, they're in bed and asleep long ago. And that's where you will soon be yourself."

  The children's rooms were close together, some of them sleeping in the same apartment. And Mr. and Mrs. Bunker had a room down at the end of the hall, so that they could go to any of the six little Bunkers who might call in the night. Often one of the four smaller ones wanted a drink.

  Russ and Laddie had a room together, and so did Rose and Vi, and before the two older Bunker children went to bed Rose whispered to her brother:

  "Shall we get up and hunt for the ghost when the others are asleep?"

  "I don't guess we'd better do it to-night," he answered. "I'm too sleepy. Besides we don't know our way around the house in the dark. We'll wait until to-morrow."

  "All right," agreed Rose. This suited her. She, too, was ready for bed.

  Daddy Bunker and Grandpa Ford did not, of course, go to bed as early as did the children. And Mother Bunker was going downstairs to talk to Grandma Ford as soon as Margy and Mun Bun were sound asleep.

  One after another the six little Bunkers got into bed and, though the two smallest were asleep almost at once, the others turned and twisted a little, as almost every one does in a strange bed. But, finally, even Rose and Russ, in their rooms, were in Slumberland, lulled by the whistle of the wind and the rattle of the snow against the windows.

  Russ thought it must be the middle of the night when he was suddenly awakened by a loud noise. It was a banging sound, as though something heavy had fallen to the floor. Then came a rattle of tin and a splash of water, and the voice of one of the little Bunkers cried:

  "Oh, I fell in! I fell in! Somebody get me out!"

  Up In The Attic

  Russ leaped out of bed and ran into the hall, where a light was burning. The Bunkers always burned one, turned low.

  "Mother! Daddy!" cried Russ. "Come on, quick! The ghost has got one of us! Come quick!"

  For a moment no one answered his call, and then he heard, from the room where Mun Bun had been put to sleep, the sound of crying.

  "What's the matter?" asked Russ, trying to make his voice sound brave. "Are you hurt, Mun Bun? Or Margy?"

&n
bsp; "I—I fell in and I'm all wet," sobbed Mun Bun.

  "Oh, Daddy! Come quick!" fairly shouted Russ. "The ghost pushed Mun Bun in, and he can't get out!"

  Feet were heard coming upstairs. Then a voice asked:

  "What is the matter? What has happened now, Russ? Are you hurt?"

  "No, Mother!" answered the oldest Bunker boy. "But I guess it's Mun Bun. It sounds like him, and I guess the ghost has him!"

  "Nonsense! There are no ghosts! Don't cry, Mun Bun," Mrs. Bunker went on, as she hurried up the stairs. "I'm coming, and so is Daddy Bunker! You'll be all right."

  "But I'm all wet!" sobbed Mun Bun. "I—I guess I fell in the ocean, and I can't get out!"

  "You're dreaming that you're back at Cousin Tom's," laughed Mrs. Bunker, as she turned up the light and went into the room where Mun Bun and Margy slept. "You're dreaming, and—Oh, you poor little dear!" she cried, as she saw what had happened. "You have fallen out of bed!"

  And that is just what happened. Mun Bun, being in a strange bed, had rolled too near one edge, and had fallen out. That was the bumping, banging noise Russ heard.

  "But what made the splash?" Russ asked as he came in to see his mother lift Mun Bun from the floor, and put him back in bed.

  "That was when he upset a tin cup of water I had put in a chair near his bed, so it would be handy when I wanted to give him a drink in the night," said Mrs. Bunker. "It splashed all over Mun Bun, and that made him think, I guess, that he had fallen into the water. Did it, Mun Bun?" she asked.

  "I—I guess so," he murmured. "I thought I fell into the water, 'cause I was all wet. I didn't like it."

  "I don't blame you," said Mrs. Bunker. "Now I'll put a dry nightgown on you, and you can go to sleep again. I'll put a chair by the bed so you won't roll out again, and I'll set the water on the bureau.

  "Now, don't make any more noise, Russ, or Mun Bun, and wake up Margy," went on Mrs. Bunker. "She is sleeping too nicely to be awakened." Mun Bun's little sister, though in the same bed with him, had not heard him fall out, knock over the tin cup of water, and call out that he had fallen in. She slept through it all.