Christmas Eve
IN Lakeville, Christmas always began at exactly four o'clock the
afternoon of the twenty-fourth; for the young people of that little
town--even the very old young people with gray hair and youthful
eyes--always indulged in an unusual and extremely enjoyable custom. The
moment that marked this real beginning of Christmas found each person
with gifts for her neighbor sallying forth with a great basketful of
parcels on her arm. If one had a great many friends and neighbors it
often took until ten o'clock at night to distribute all one's gifts.
As each package was wrapped in white tissue paper, tied with ribbon
and further adorned with sprigs of holly or gay Christmas cards,
these Christmas baskets were decidedly attractive; and the streets of
Lakeville, from four to ten, were certain to be full of gayety and
genuine Christmas cheer.
On all other days of the year, the Cottagers traveled together; but
on this occasion each girl was an entirely separate person. Bettie,
wearing a fine air of importance, went alone to Mabel's, to Jean's and
to Marjory's to leave her gifts for her three friends. Although, at
all other times, it was her habit to run in unceremoniously, to-day
she rang each door-bell and was formally admitted to each front hall,
where she selected the package designed for each house. Jean and the
other two, likewise, went forth by themselves to leave their mysterious
little parcels. But when this rite was completed all four ran to their
own homes, added more parcels to their gay baskets and then congregated
in Mrs. Mapes's parlor.
They had gifts for dear little Anne Halliday, the Marcotte twins,
Henrietta Bedford, Rosa Marie, Mr. Black, Mrs. Crane, some distant
cousins of Jean's and for all their school-teachers that had not gone
out of town for the holidays. Besides, their parents had intrusted them
with articles to be delivered to their friends and Mabel had a gift for
the dust-chute Janitor, a silver match-safe with the date of the fire
engraved under his initials.
"We'll go to Henrietta's first," decided Jean, "because that's the
farthest."
"And to the Janitor's next," said Mabel, "because I want to get it over
and forget about it."
To make things more exciting for Henrietta, the girls went in singly
to present their offerings, the others crouching out of sight behind
the stone balustrades that flanked the steps. Each time the bell rang,
Henrietta was right at Simmons's heels when he opened the door. Then,
after a brief wait outside, all four again presented themselves to
invite Henrietta, who had gifts for Rosa Marie, to go with them to Mr.
Black's and all the other places. Henrietta was glad to go, because
she herself was too new to Lakeville to have very many friends to favor
with presents. The five had a very merry time with their baskets; but
they were much too excited to stay a great while under any one roof.
They shouted merry greetings to the rest of the basket-laden population
and paused more than once to obligingly pull a door-bell for some
elderly acquaintance who found that she needed more hands than she had
started out with.
"How jolly everybody is!" remarked Henrietta. "I never saw a more
Christmassy lot of people. It must be lovely to have a long, long list
to give to."
"Father says this is an unusually nice town," offered Bettie. "The
people seem actually glad to have folks sick and in trouble so they can
send them flowers and things to eat."
"What a charitable place," laughed Henrietta, gaily. "I hope nobody's
longing for _me_ to come down with anything. I'd rather stay well than
eat flowers--they're too expensive just now."
"My!" exclaimed Mabel, after all the gifts had been distributed and the
girls, with their empty baskets turned over their heads, had started
homeward, "won't to-morrow be a lively day. First, all our stockings;
very early in the morning at home. Next, all our Christmas packages to
open--I've about ten already that I haven't even squeezed--that is, not
_very_ hard, except one that I know is a bottle. Then our dinners----"
"Too bad we can't have all our dinners together," mourned Marjory, "but
of course your mothers and my Aunty Jane and Henrietta's grandmother
would be too lonely if we did; and all the families in a bunch would
make too many to feed comfortably."
"And then," proceeded Mabel, "a tree at Mr. Black's just as soon as
it's dark enough to light the candles, and supper and another tree at
Henrietta's in the evening, and a ride home in the Slater carriage
afterwards, because by that time we'll surely be too tired to walk."
"And I've trimmed a tree for the boys at home," said Bettie. "There
won't be anything on it for you, but you can all come to see it."
"Aunty Jane says that Christmas-trees shed their feathers and make too
much litter," said Marjory, "but with three others to visit I don't
mind if I don't have one."
"You can have half of mine," offered Mabel, generously. "I shan't have
time to trim more than half of it, anyway, so I'd like somebody to
help."
"I suppose," said Marjory, doubtfully, "that we ought to do something
for the poor, but I don't know where to find any since our washwoman
married the butcher."
"I'm glad you don't," laughed Henrietta. "I've nine cents left and it's
got to last, for I shan't have any more until I get my allowance the
first of January, unless somebody sends me money for Christmas."
"I guess," giggled Jean, fishing an empty purse from her pocket, "the
rest of us couldn't scare up nine cents between us; but I have an uncle
who always sends me a paper dollar every year. I've spent it in at
least fifty different ways already. I always have lovely times with
that dollar _before_ it comes, but it just sort of melts away into
nothing afterwards."
"I wish," breathed Mabel, fervently, "_I_ had an uncle like that."
"Yes," agreed Henrietta, "a few uncles with the paper-dollar habit
wouldn't be bad things to have."
"I caught a glimpse of your tree, Henrietta," confessed Marjory. "I
stood on the balustrade outside and peeked in the window when Jean was
inside. It's going to be perfectly grand; but of course I didn't _mean_
to peek. I just got up there because I was too excited to stay on the
ground."
"So did I," owned Bettie.
"I wonder," said Mabel, "where Mr. Black's tree is. We were in all the
downstairs rooms and I didn't see a sign of it."
"Probably," teased Henrietta, "he's forgotten to order one. Unless one
forms the habit very early in life, one is very apt to overlook little
things like that."
"Mr. Black never forgets," assured Bettie.
"Probably it's some place in the yard," ventured Marjory, not guessing
how close she came to the truth.
"No," declared Mabel, positively. "I looked out the windows and there
wasn't a single sign of a tree anywhere. I pretty nearly asked about
it, but I wasn't sure that that would be polite."
"Don't worry," soothed Jean. "There'll _be_ one if Mr. Black has to
plant a seed and grow it over night. He and Mrs. Crane are more excited
over Christmas than we are. They can't think of anything else."