composedly, and drawing her cold fingers well up within the thick
sleeves.
"_That coat for Matthew!_" cried Luke, slipping off from his snowy
perch; "_an' that tippet, too!_" With that he lost his head completely,
and, getting entangled in the ragged fringe of the shawl, over he went,
rolling down against the frozen pump.
Meantime the heads of all the children remaining in the old kitchen,
except that of Susan, who had squirmed out of her mother's lap to the
delight of her paper-chewing again, were pushed tight up over Matthew's
shoulder, as he laboriously spelled out a letter found in the midst of
the bundle-opening.
"'Mrs. Hansell'--that's Mother," explained Matthew.
"Yes, yes, we know," said Matilda, scornfully; "go on."
"Well, stop pinching me," demanded Matthew, dropping his hand with the
letter in his lap to turn a pair of indignant black eyes upon her.
"I didn't," said Matilda, but she ducked nevertheless; "it was Jane."
"Oh, what a story; I didn't neither," said Jane, with round eyes at her.
"Well, do you get right straight down, Matilda Hansell. You ain't goin'
to look over, now."
"I won't get down. And I will look too," declared Matilda, savagely.
"Let's see you." With that Matthew shifted his seat on the floor; seeing
which, Jane nimbly slipped into Matilda's place.
"Oh, now, that's my place, Jane Hansell," cried Matilda, with a very red
face and blazing eyes.
"No, 'tain't," said Matthew, "that's Jane's. Now you keep still, or I'll
put you out along with Elviry."
"I'll tell Mother you put Elviry out," said Matilda, with venom.
"Well, you needn't," said Matthew, composedly; "an' she ain't cold,
'cause Luke's took her out Mammy's big shawl. I seen him."
"'Mrs. Hansell,'" and he fell to reading the letter again. "'I re-mem,
m-e-m,'--yes, that's it,--'ber, b-e-r--remember you did my wash--washing
last summer. You a-p-p-e-a-r-e-d--'" Matthew scratched his head, looked
sideways at the word, then full in front, with great determination, then
gave it up as a bad job, and slid over it, hoping the children wouldn't
notice it.
"Elviry'd read that," said Matilda, "as quick's anythin'."
"'To have a g-r-e-a-t great many c-h-i-l-d-r-e-n, so I
t-h-o-u-g-h-t,'"--again Matthew scratched his head and gave great
diligence to the word, but was forced to relinquish it also, plunging
on,--"'I would send you a box.'" That was plain enough, especially as
the box was there before them. "'Some of the a-r-t-i-c-l-e-s--' What in
the world is that?" cried Matthew, in despair.
"Go on," cried Matilda; "p'raps the rest will tell."
So Matthew hastened on, "'are s-e-l-e-c-t-e-d--'" Here Matthew felt
obliged to omit two lines. "'The o-v-e-r-c-o-a-t,'"--somehow Matthew
knew by intuition what that spelt,--"'and the red t-i-p-p-e-t are for
your biggest boy--'" Down went the letter to the floor, to be pounced on
by Matilda's greedy fingers. Matthew, regardless of this, swept Jane
aside, and pawing each bundle this way and that, twitched the strings
off, making havoc generally in the piles of presents.
"'Tain't here; she's forgotten to send it," he howled, and, "biggest
boy" though he was, he threw himself flat on the floor and cried as hard
as he could. Everybody stopped in dismay to hear him.
"Hee-hee-hee!" giggled a voice close to the broken window-pane. Elvira
flapped up both arms in the overcoat sleeves, and bobbed her head, tied
up in the red tippet.
"Oh!" screamed all the children in such a voice that Matthew raised his
head a minute. The next he was flinging wide the crazy old door.
"Don't you wish you may get 'em?" screamed Elvira, making quick time off
up the bank, and flapping the coat sleeves derisively.
"That's mine, that coat and tippet!" screamed Matthew, flying after her;
"mine--_mine_!"
XV
THE MINISTER LOOKS AFTER HIS PARISHIONERS
Matilda, clutching the precious letter in her greedy fingers, said quite
importantly, "Now, children, you can come and look over me while I read
it."
"Children!" snorted Mark, in a fury. "I'm twice as big as you. Give that
letter here, Tilly Hansell," making a dash for it.
"I ain't a-goin' to, ain't, ain't," screamed Matilda, in a fright, and
commencing a mad rush around the kitchen. Then, seeing Mark gaining on
her, and Jane running to head her off and deliver her up to him, she
turned suddenly and flung the letter into the little widow's lap, where
she still crouched on the floor.
"It's Mammy's letter, anyway; 'tain't yours," she cried triumphantly.
"Mammy, can't I read it?" cried Mark, throwing himself down by her side,
and spreading his red, chapped hand over the letter.
"Read what?" said Mrs. Hansell, lifting her dazed face.
"Your letter. 'Twas in the box," said Mark, clapping his other hand on
it, too, and keeping a sharp lookout for Matilda's next move.
"Mayn't I? I had it before he did, Mammy." Matilda flung herself down by
the little woman's side. "Mark's awful mean--he's always pickin' and
grabbin'."
"I don't know what you mean, children," said the little widow, turning
perplexed eyes from one to the other.
"Well, I'll tell you," cried Mark. "Now keep still, Matilda. You've got
a letter, Mammy, in the box, and mayn't I read it?"
"I've got a letter?" repeated little Mrs. Hansell, in a bewildered way.
"Yes, yes," cried Matilda, impatiently. "Now, Mark Hansell, it's mine; I
had it first." With that she slapped his red hands with her two little
fists. "Anyhow, I'll keep mine on top of yours," suiting the action to
the words.
"You won't get the letter," said Mark, with a grin, flattening his hands
tightly over it. "Mammy, mayn't I read it? Do hurry an' say yes. Tilly's
actin' just awful."
"I've got a letter?" repeated Mrs. Hansell, looking around the old
kitchen. When her glance reached the big box, and pile of bundles
scattered about, she clasped her hands and burst into tears. "It's too
good to be true," she cried; "I can't believe it."
"Why, the box is there. See it," and Mark unguardedly hopped to his
feet, ran up to it, and slapped it triumphantly with a resounding
thwack.
"There--Mark Hansell, I've got it!" He turned to see Matilda, too
excited to keep still, waving the letter, and hopping from one foot to
the other. When she saw Mark coming, she wisely took refuge under her
mother's arm, within which she tucked the letter, gripped fast in her
hand.
Mrs. Hansell sat up suddenly. "Did you say there was a letter come in
that box?" she demanded, unwonted energy coming into her pale, tired
eyes.
"Yes, I've been a-tellin' you so for ever so long," said Mark, in great
chagrin, "an' now Tilly's grabbed it away from me."
"I didn't; I had it before," said Matilda, squirming up tightly to her
mother.
"Give me that letter," said her mother.
Matilda, with anxious eyes on Mark, set the letter, now much wrinkled,
in her mother's thin hand, and held her breath in suspense.
"Well, as Matthew ain't here," casting a glance around the kitchen,
"you're the next biggest, Mark, so you may read it," at last said Mrs.
Hansell.
"Ow!" grumbled Matilda, very much discomfited.
Mark, too jubilant to get the letter, wasted no time in his triumph,
but, sitting down on the floor in front of his mother, spread it out,
and began his attempt to find out what it said. Jane came up and planted
herself by his side.
"'Mrs. Hansell,'" read Mark, quite fluently.
"Matthew read that," said Matilda, sourly.
"You stop," said Mark, without looking at her; "I'm reading this to
Mammy. 'Mrs. Hansell, I remember you did my washing last summer.'"
"Hoh! He ain't readin'; he's only sayin' what Matthew read, Mammy.
Mammy, Matthew's read all that." Matilda got up to her knees and hugged
her mother around the throat.
"Sit down," said Mrs. Hansell. The conviction that she really had a box
had been slow in growing, but now that she was sure of it, it was quite
time to set up authority equal to such magnificence.
Matilda slid down meekly, her arms falling away in amazement to her lap.
"'You a-p-p-e-a-r-e-d--'" Mark stuck fast on the word that had floored
Matthew, and helplessly shook his head.
"What is it?" demanded his mother. Since she really had a letter, she
was going to have every word of it.
So Mark began again, but it was no use. Flounder and guess as he might,
it was impossible to say what that dreadful assortment of letters might
mean.
"Oh, well, if you can't read it, Mark," said Mrs. Hansell, coolly, "I
must get some one who can."
"Let me try, Mammy, let me," begged Matilda, with two eager little hands
thrust out.
"I can read the next words," declared Mark, hanging on to the letter
like grim death.
"No, the next ones won't do. I must have the whole of the letter," said
Mrs. Hansell, with great dignity. "Yes, you can try now, Matilda," and
she picked the sheet from Mark's hand, to be hungrily seized by Matilda.
"She can't read any better'n a pig," said Mark in great scorn. "Now,
what is it, Matilda Hansell?"
Matilda turned her shoulders on him, and spelled backward and forward,
up and down, with the greatest vigor, but all to no purpose. Her face
was red as fire, and she had all she could do to keep from crying, but
still she struggled on.
"No, that won't do. You can't read it either," said Mrs. Hansell at
length, in the midst of Mark's "What did I tell you, Mammy? Ho! Ho!"
"Now, children, it's just this way," she continued, "some one has got to
read that letter, 'cause it explains th' whole thing,--th' box an'
all,--so one of you may take it down to the minister an' ask him to
please read it for me."
"Oh, let me, Mammy, let me," cried Matilda, seizing her mother's arm.
"No, me; I'm goin'; I'm the biggest," said Mark, having no relish that
Matilda should see the inside of the parson's house before he did.
Besides, on that important errand!
"Yes, I'm not sure but you ought to go, seem' Matthew ain't here," said
Mrs. Hansell.
"O dear!" Matilda flung herself flat on the floor with such wails that
Susan crept up, her mouth full of chewed paper, to see what it was all
about.
"Hush making such a noise! Well, you may go, too," said their mother.
"Oh, mercy me, what you been a-eatin', Susan? Spit it right out this
minute," as she gathered her up in her arms.
"An' I'm a-goin' to carry th' letter," declared Matilda, racing up with
her tattered old hood and the remnant of a black cloak, "so there!"
bobbing her head at Mark.
"No such thing. I shall carry it; I'm the biggest," said Mark,
decidedly.
"So you always say," cried Matilda, fretfully, and taking out a pin from
her mouth, she brought the two sides of the hood together in a fashion
that kept it on at least.
"Well, an' I am," said Mark, "so I always shall say it."
"Mammy, can't I carry the letter part way to the minister's?" begged
Matilda, running over to her mother.
"You're not goin' to," declared Mark, stiffly, and marching off to the
door.
"What is it?" asked Mrs. Hansell, poking out with her finger the chewed
wads of paper that appeared to be the last packed away in Susan's mouth.
"Dear me, it's a wonder you ain't choked to death. What'd you say? Oh,
yes, you may carry it part way. There, there!" as she set the squirming
baby straight on her lap.
"There, Mammy says I can," Matilda shouted triumphantly, and spinning
around on one set of toes, till the old hood slipped away from the pin
and fell to the floor.
"Did you, Mammy?" cried Mark, running back to Mrs. Hansell.
"Did I what?" asked his mother. "Dear me, I wonder how much this child
has swallowed."
"Say Matilda could carry the letter part way?"
"Yes, I did. Now hurry along an' behave, both of you. An' be quick, or
I'll send Jane after all, and keep you to home."
This would be so much worse than giving up the letter for half the
distance, that Mark took himself off without delay. Matilda scuttled
after and slammed the old door as tight as it would shut.
It was certainly an hour by the old clock that wheezed crazily in the
corner, and struck whatever time it chose, when steps were heard coming
up the frozen path. The door burst open, and in rushed Matilda and Mark,
and after them, at a slower pace, as befitted his calling, Mr. St. John,
the minister of the mountain parish. The rest of the family sat in
gloomy or impatient silence around the big box. All but Matthew; he was
radiant in an overcoat, that, had anybody attempted to fit to him,
certainly couldn't have been more of a success. And all around his neck
was tied a thick, red woollen tippet that seemed to possess no end, so
much was left that was wound generously around his head. He was
strutting up and down the old kitchen floor, patting his shaggy sleeves,
and feeling the thickness of the overcoat skirts, and saying "Ah!" in a
tone of the greatest satisfaction.
Luke, unable to take his eyes from him, followed every movement
silently, while Elvira, nearly bursting with impatience, sat on the
floor, alternately drumming on the side of the big box and bullying
Jane, when unfortunate enough to get in her way.
"There! Now let's open the bundles," screamed Elvira, hopping to her
feet. "Mark and Tilly have come!"
"For shame, Elviry," reproved her mother, sharply, who now came in from
the bedroom, after seeing that Susan was really asleep, and not in
convulsions over a diet of paper wads. "Can't you see the minister
comin'? Oh, good day, sir!" She dropped him what was meant for a
courtesy, and, wiping off a chair with her blue checked apron, she
looked around on all her little group for their best behavior.
"I thought it better to come myself, my good woman," said the minister.
He was quite young, this being his first parish, and only regarded as a
sort of missionary effort to get his hand in after the theological
seminary. "Ah--I quite forget your name, madam, as you are so seldom at
church."
"Hansell, sir," said the little widow, with another effort at a
courtesy. "An' I live so far, sir, from the church, it's not easy
gettin' there, if you please." She did not add, "And how can I, without
anything to wear?"
"Ah, yes, no doubt," answered the Rev. Mr. St. John, reassuringly.
"Well, I considered it best to come and read the letter to you myself,
as it contains important directions. I will do so now," and he spread it
open on one hand, all the family coming up, even Matthew, losing sight
for a moment of his new splendor.
"'Mrs. Hansell,'" read the minister, clearing his throat, "'I remember
you did my washing last summer. You appeared to have a great many
children, so I thought I would send you a box. Some of the articles are
selected with reference to the ages of the members of your family. For
instance, the overcoat and the red tippet are for your biggest boy.'"
"I know it," cried Matthew, unable to keep still, and beginning to strut
again. "I've got it on."
The minister looked and nodded at him. This unloosed Matthew's tongue,
who, before that, had been afraid of him. "I tell you what, it's bully!"
he declared, peering out from the folds of the red tippet; "an' this,
too," patting his head.
"So 'tis," said the Rev. Mr. St. John, with a little laugh.
"'There are some jackets and trousers for the other boys.'"
"_Ow!_" Mark and Luke both gave a howl together and darted off toward
the pile of bundles.
"Come back this minute," demanded the little widow, sharply. "And, oh,
sir, would you mind reading real smart like," she said to the minister,
"'cause we can't wait much longer to see what's in them bundles." She
was twisting her apron-end now with nervous fingers, and a red spot
mounted to either thin cheek.
"Indeed, I will," said the young man, obligingly. "Well, let me see,
where was I? Oh,--'The other things you will know quite well how to
dispose of.
"'Now I wish you to allow me to have three of your children--your two
oldest boys and one girl--to stay a few weeks at my house. This will
help you, and I do not doubt that I shall get some amusement out of it.
The girl will make the boys behave, I feel quite sure. You may choose
which daughter; it makes no difference to me. Ask Mr. St. John, the
minister, you know, to put them on the train under the care of the
conductor, and then to telegraph me. I enclose a check for all expenses.
And I wish you all a Merry Christmas.
"'HENRIETTA VAN RUYPEN,'
"Well, well, well." The Rev. Mr. St. John spread the letter on his knee,
then fell to stroking his chin, where he was fondly expecting a beard
some fine day. "To think of that old money bags," he was going to say,
but pulled himself up in time.
"I did do her washing," the little widow was standing in front of him,
still twitching her apron-end, "and she was awful cross, and--"
"Well, something has happened to change her," said the minister,
"there's no denying. As I remember last summer, she was not a pleasant
person to talk to."
"An' that she wasn't," said Mrs. Hansell. "She was that partik'ler 'bout
a cent in change. But that box--" she stopped and turned her eyes over
toward it.
"Yes, the box, and the invitation for the children to visit her," said
the minister. "You can't get around these facts without believing she's
entirely changed."
"The what?" said the little widow.
"Why, the invitation for the children, at least three of them, to visit
her," said the young man.
"An' where'd she say that, if you please?"
"Why, I just read it to you," he said, a trifle impatiently.
"Oh, no, excuse me, sir." The poor woman's head was now turning from
side to side in bewilderment; the children, who had understood as
little, beginning to clamor lustily for the bundles to be opened.
Upon this the Rev. Mr. St. John said, "Stop, this moment!" bringing down
his foot, "Just as he slaps the Bible," whispered Elvira, who had been
to church one eventful Sunday. "I will read it to you again," which he
did.
"And now, what have you done with the check?"
"Check? I don't know what you mean," said the little widow, utterly
incapable of understanding anything more after that invitation!
"Why, the check,--dear me,--the money she sent."
"She hasn't sent me no money. She paid me for the washing when she was
here," said Mrs. Hansell.
"I mean the money she sent in the letter," he shook it at her; "the
paper check to pay for the children's railroad fare. Where is it?"
"I hain't seen no money," said Mrs. Hansell, putting up her hand
uncertainly to her poor bewildered head.
Thereupon the minister decided to take matters into his own hands. So
getting off from his chair, "Children," he said, "not one of these
bundles can be opened until we find something that has been dropped out
of this letter. A little strip of paper."
"I guess Susan's et it," said Elvira, cheerfully.
"Oh, no, that cannot be."
"Yes, 'tis," she defied him, "she's been eatin' paper just awful."
"Well, look for it as hard as you can. I'll help you." The minister
dropped to all fours, and together they all looked over the papers and
bundles strewn in confusion around the big box. No strip of paper was to
be seen.
"This is very dreadful," said the Rev. Mr. St. John, at last, getting up
to his feet, and snapping off the wisps of straw from his clothes, which
he was glad to reflect were not his best ones.
"Now can't we open the bundles?" screamed Matilda.
"Yes, can't we? can't we?" begged the others, except Matthew, who was
wholly concerned in himself and his new attire.
"Everythin's out of the old box," said Mark, giving it a kick.
"Yes, everythin'," said Elvira, taking a flying leap past it, and
peering in once more, "'cept an old scrap o' paper." She dived into its
depths and brought up a long, thin strip, which she waved disdainfully
before casting it off. At sight of which, the minister sprang and
twisted it out of her hands. "Oh, the check! Well, I _am_ thankful
that's found!"
But this fell on careless ears after all. For was not the opening of the
wonderful bundles at last to be allowed! And for the next half hour
nothing was heard but the tearing of paper, the bursting of string, and
the howls of delight from the young brood and the half-frightened,
tearful ejaculations from the little mother. No one stopped in the
process of unfolding the treasures, except to dig the teeth into a
cracker or a bun, too hungry to wait.
"Tea, Mammy!" Mark bundled a package that spilt half its contents into
his mother's lap, then rushed back for more treasures.
"Thank the Lord!" she cried, involuntarily, and hungrily gathering up
each morsel.
The minister turned aside his face to look out of the window, pretending
to see something very attractive in the drear winter landscape, and so
the babel went on.
At last all the unfolding was done. "Now then," said the Rev. Mr. St.
John, "you understand, don't you, that Matthew and Mark are to go, and
one of the girls, to visit Mrs. Van Ruypen?"
"See my new dress," interrupted Matilda, prancing up with a red merino
gown, resplendent in gilt buttons all down the back.
"That's mine," said Elvira, dropping the blue one, which she had
selected, now that she saw how pretty the red one looked.
"'Tain't either. This is too big for you. Anyway, it's mine," said
Matilda, folding it within her arms, and getting off the kitchen-length
from her sister.
"Children, children, stop quarrelling," commanded the minister.
"Huh, I ain't afraid o' him," said Elvira to Luke, and pointing to the
minister, who since he had been down on the floor with them, hunting for
the check, had seemed quite one of the family.
"Now which one of the girls shall you allow to go to Madam Van
Ruypen's?" asked the minister. "She has left it to you, Mrs. Hansell."
"Oh, I don't know, I'm sure," she said helplessly.
"You can send which one you like," he said kindly, and smiling down at
her encouragingly.
"Well, Elviry ain't goin', anyway," said Matthew, with great decision.
"Where?" Elvira dropped her blue gown in a heap, and ran up to her
mother's chair. "Where ain't I goin', Mammy?" but she looked up into the
minister's face for the reply.
"Oh, visiting with Matthew and Mark," he said laughingly at her.
"What's visiting?"
"Oh, a little journey. But be quiet now, and give your mother time to
think."
"What's a journey?" demanded Elvira, without the least hesitation.
"Oh, going away on the cars."
"Are Matthew and Mark goin'?" asked Elvira, with a long breath, and very
big eyes.
"Yes. Well, Mrs. Hansell, what do you say?"
"I don't know."
"I'm goin'; I'm goin'," announced Elvira, capering away.
"Be quiet, child, your mother hasn't decided," said the minister.
"I'm goin'; I'm goin'," Elvira kept on, shouting and dancing away as
hard as she could, which presently brought the other two girls up to
their mother's chair with a clamor to know what it was all about.
When it was explained, the trouble was so great the minister had more
than two minds to flee the scene and let the little widow get out of it
as best she might. At last a happy thought struck him.
"Mrs. Hansell, you might let them draw," he said; "strips of paper, you
know. Now that's the very idea!" He clapped his hands like a boy. "Now,
Matthew, get the pieces."
"It's the littlest, ain't it?" said Matthew, hurrying, as fast as the
dignity of the great coat and tippet would allow, to obey the minister.
"No, no, the longest," said the minister, laughing. "Now, girls, you
must stand in a row--there--and toe that crack. That's it," as they
scuttled into place on the old kitchen floor. "Now then, my boy, hurry
up." He was as excited as the children themselves, and found it as
difficult to wait.
"Now shut your eyes," and he turned his eyes on the line of girls, while
Matthew handed him the little strips.
"Tilly's peekin'," announced Luke.
"I ain't," said Matilda, twisting her eyelids tightly together; "not a
single squint, so there, Luke Hansell."
"Well, all ready!" The minister whirled around, the little strips neatly
placed, and all presenting the same appearance, between his two hands.
"Matilda, you're the oldest; you may draw first."
"O dear! I don't know which one," said Matilda, putting out her brown
hand, then drawing it back with a jerk.
"Of course not," said Matthew, bursting into a laugh; "if you did that
would be peekin'."
"Well, you must hurry, and give your sisters a chance," said the
minister.
"I don't want to; I want to go myself," said Matilda, hanging back.
"Then you don't want to draw," said the young man, severely. "Very well,
you give up your chance. Elvira, it's your turn."