A Crowded Day
MABEL rose very early indeed on Christmas morning to explore her
bulging stocking and to open her packages; but Mr. Black and Mrs. Crane
were even earlier, and they were delighted to find that the weather
had remained mild. Putting on their outside wraps and warm overshoes,
the worthy couple went with good-natured Martin and Maggie, the nimble
nursery maid, to the garden as soon as it was light. They strung the
tall tree from top to bottom with tinsel and glittering Christmas-tree
ornaments, the finest that money could buy. Martin and the maid,
perched on tall step-ladders, worked enthusiastically. Mr. Black and
Mrs. Crane handed up the decorations. The cook, watching them from the
basement window, grinned broadly at the sight.
"Sure," said she, "'tis a lot of children they are; but 'twould do no
harrum if all the wurruld was loike 'em."
By church time the towering tree was in readiness except for a few of
the more precious gifts, to be added later.
"I hope," said Mrs. Crane, with a lingering, backward glance, when
there was no further excuse for remaining outdoors, "that the air will
be as quiet to-night as it is now. It would be dreadful if we couldn't
light the candles."
"We'll have to trust to luck," returned Mr. Black, "but I'm quite sure
that luck will be with us."
Of course the girls enjoyed their stockings at home, their gifts
that arrived by mail and express from out-of-town relatives and the
bountiful dinners at the home tables. But the Black-Crane tree to which
Henrietta, likewise, had been invited, was something entirely new and
so proved particularly enjoyable; if not, indeed, the crowning event
of the day. Martin had cleared away the snow and had laid boards and
even a carpet for them to stand on, and there were chairs and extra
wraps, only the girls were too excited to use them. But Mrs. Crane
and placid Rosa Marie sat enveloped in steamer rugs while the others
capered about the brilliantly lighted tree, constantly discovering new
beauties.
"I declare," sighed Mrs. Crane, happily, "you're the youngest of the
lot, Peter."
"Well," returned Mr. Black, "why not? It's the first real Christmas
I've had for forty years--but let's have another Christmas dinner on
New Year's Day; I was disappointed when all these young folks said,
'No, thank you,' to our invitation to dinner. Just remember, girls,
we expect to see you all here the first of January or there'll be
trouble--I'll see that it lasts all the year, too."
"Peter Black," warned Mrs. Crane, "that step-ladder's prancing on one
leg. If you go over that bluff you won't stop till you land in the
lake. Let Martin do all the circus acts."
"I've got it, now," said Mr. Black, coming down safely with the small
parcel that had dangled so long just above his reach. "Here's something
for Henrietta Bedford, with the tree's compliments."
"How nice of you to remember me," cried Henrietta, opening the parcel.
"And what a dear little pin--just what I needed. Thank you very much
indeed."
Of all their gifts, however, the Cottagers liked their lovely little
watches the best. They had expected no such magnificent gifts from Mr.
Black, and their own people had, of course, considered them much too
young to be trusted with watches.
"Dear me," said Mabel, strutting about with her timepiece pinned to her
blouse, "I feel too grown-upedy for words. I never expected this moment
to come."
"I've _always_ wanted a watch," breathed Jean, "but I certainly
supposed I'd have to wait until I'd graduated from high-school--folks
almost always get them then."
"And I," beamed Marjory, "never expected a _pretty_, really truly
girl's watch, because--worse luck--I'm to get Aunty Jane's awful watch
when she dies. Of course I don't want her to die a minute before her
time, but getting even _that_ watch seemed sort of hopeless because all
Aunty Jane's ancestors that weren't killed by accident lived to enjoy
their nineties. But that doesn't prevent Aunty Jane's promising me that
clumsy old turnip whenever she's particularly pleased with me."
Bettie was too delighted for speech. But her big brown eyes spoke
eloquently for her.
Rosa Marie accepted the unusual tree, all her Teddy bears, her dolls
and other gifts, very much as a matter of course. Nothing it appeared
was ever sufficiently surprising to astonish calm little Rosa Marie.
"Perhaps," offered Bettie, "she's awfully surprised inside."
"I know _I_ am," laughed Mabel. "Inside and out, too."
Then, just as Mrs. Crane had decided that Rosa Marie had been outdoors
long enough, the Slater carriage arrived for the girls. Mr. Black,
beaming at the success of his Christmas party, packed them with all
their belongings into the vehicle and they rolled happily away.
They stopped at their own homes just long enough to drop most of the
gifts they had garnered from the Black-Crane tree; and then Henrietta
whisked her friends to the Slater home, where Mrs. Slater entertained
them for two hours over a delightful, genuinely English Christmas
supper.
Henrietta's tree, too, was a very handsome one. A realistic Santa Claus
who seemed as English as the supper, since he dropped the letter H just
as Simmons always did, distributed the gifts. When the Cottagers opened
odd, foreign-looking parcels and found that Henrietta had given each
girl a set of three beautiful Oriental boxes with jewelled tops, their
delight knew no bounds. They had expected nothing so fine.
"You see," explained Henrietta, "I told Father, months ago, to send
me a lot of little things to give away for Christmas and of course he
bought boxes. I believe he buys every one he sees."
"They're darlings," declared Jean, dreamily. "They take you away to
far-off places where things smell old and--and magnificent."
"It's the grown-upness of my presents that I like," explained
eleven-year-old Mabel, with a big sigh of satisfaction. "It's lovely to
have people treat you as if you were somebody."
"You see," laughed Marjory, "it's only two years ago that an
absent-minded aunt of Mr. Bennett's sent Mabel a rattle, and the poor
child can't forget it."
"Miss 'Enrietta," inquired Santa Claus, anxiously, when the Slater
tree, too, had been stripped of all but its decorations, "might Hi be
hexcused now? Hi'm due at a Christmas ball and Hi'm hawfully afride
these togs is meltin' me 'igh collar."
"Yes," laughed Henrietta, "you've done nobly and I hope you'll have a
lovely time at the party."
It was half-past ten before the Cottagers got to bed that night--a long
day because they had risen so early.
"But," breathed Bettie, happily, "when days are as nice as this I like
'em long."
"It's nice to have friends," said Jean.
"I wish," sighed Mabel, "they'd make some kind of a watch that had to
be wound every hour; it seems awfully hard to wait until morning."
When Mrs. Bennett looked in that night to see if Mabel had remembered
to take off her best hair ribbon, she found a doll on each side of the
blissful slumberer, a watch pinned to her nightdress, a jeweled box
clasped loosely in each relaxed hand and at least half a bushel of
other treasures under the uncomfortable pillow. As Mrs. Bennett gently
removed all these articles and straightened the bed-clothes Mabel
murmured in her sleep, "Merry Christmas, girls."