It was Christmas Eve.
The Browns, who lived in the adjoining house, had been dining with the
Joneses.
Brown and Jones were sitting over wine and walnuts at the table. The
others had gone upstairs.
“What are you giving to your boy for Christmas?” asked Brown.
“A train,” said Jones, “new kind of thing--automatic.”
“Let’s have a look at it,” said Brown.
Jones fetched a parcel from the sideboard and began unwrapping it.
“Ingenious thing, isn’t it?” he said. “Goes on its own rails. Queer how
kids love to play with trains, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” assented Brown. “How are the rails fixed?”
“Wait, I’ll show you,” said Jones. “Just help me to shove these dinner
things aside and roll back the cloth. There! See! You lay the rails like
that and fasten them at the ends, so--”
“Oh, yes, I catch on, makes a grade, doesn’t it? Just the thing to amuse
a child, isn’t it? I got Willy a toy aeroplane.”
“I know, they’re great. I got Edwin one on his birthday. But I thought
I’d get him a train this time. I told him Santa Claus was going to bring
him something altogether new this time. Edwin, of course, believes in
Santa Claus absolutely. Say, look at this locomotive, would you? It has
a spring coiled up inside the fire box.”
“Wind her up,” said Brown with great interest. “Let’s see her go.”
“All right,” said Jones. “Just pile up two or three plates or something
to lean the end of the rails on. There, notice the way it buzzes before
it starts. Isn’t that a great thing for a kid, eh?”
“Yes,” said Brown. “And say, see this little string to pull the whistle!
By Gad, it toots, eh? Just like real?”
“Now then, Brown,” Jones went on, “you hitch on those cars and I’ll
start her. I’ll be engineer, eh!”
Half an hour later Brown and Jones were still playing trains on the
dining-room table.
But their wives upstairs in the drawing-room hardly noticed their
absence. They were too much interested.
“Oh, I think it’s perfectly sweet,” said Mrs. Brown. “Just the loveliest
doll I’ve seen in years. I must get one like it for Ulvina. Won’t
Clarisse be perfectly enchanted?”
“Yes,” answered Mrs. Jones, “and then she’ll have all the fun of
arranging the dresses. Children love that so much. Look, there are three
little dresses with the doll, aren’t they cute? All cut out and ready to
stitch together.”
“Oh, how perfectly lovely!” exclaimed Mrs. Brown. “I think the mauve one
would suit the doll best, don’t you, with such golden hair? Only don’t
you think it would make it much nicer to turn back the collar, so, and
to put a little band--so?”
“_What_ a good idea!” said Mrs. Jones. “Do let’s try it. Just wait, I’ll
get a needle in a minute. I’ll tell Clarisse that Santa Claus sewed it
himself. The child believes in Santa Claus absolutely.”
And half an hour later Mrs. Jones and Mrs. Brown were so busy stitching
dolls’ clothes that they could not hear the roaring of the little train
up and down the dining table, and had no idea what the four children
were doing.
Nor did the children miss their mothers.
“Dandy, aren’t they?” Edwin Jones was saying to little Willie Brown, as
they sat in Edwin’s bedroom. “A hundred in a box, with cork tips, and
see, an amber mouthpiece that fits into a little case at the side. Good
present for Dad, eh?”
“Fine!” said Willie appreciatively. “I’m giving Father cigars.”
“I know, I thought of cigars too. Men always like cigars and cigarettes.
You can’t go wrong on them. Say, would you like to try one or two of
these cigarettes? We can take them from the bottom. You’ll like them,
they’re Russian--away ahead of Egyptian.”
“Thanks,” answered Willie. “I’d like one immensely. I only started
smoking last spring--on my twelfth birthday. I think a feller’s a fool
to begin smoking cigarettes too soon, don’t you? It stunts him. I waited
till I was twelve.”
“Me too,” said Edwin, as they lighted their cigarettes. “In fact, I
wouldn’t buy them now if it weren’t for Dad. I simply _had_ to give him
something from Santa Claus. He believes in Santa Claus absolutely, you
know.”
And, while this was going on, Clarisse was showing little Ulvina the
absolutely lovely little bridge set that she got for her mother.
“Aren’t these markers perfectly charming?” said Ulvina. “And don’t you
love this little Dutch design--or is it Flemish, darling?”
“Dutch,” said Clarisse. “Isn’t it quaint? And aren’t these the dearest
little things, for putting the money in when you play. I needn’t have
got them with it--they’d have sold the rest separately--but I think it’s
too utterly slow playing without money, don’t you?”
“Oh, abominable,” shuddered Ulvina. “But your mamma never plays for
money, does she?”
“Mamma! Oh, gracious, no. Mamma’s far too slow for that. But I shall
tell her that Santa Claus insisted on putting in the little money
boxes.”
“I suppose she believes in Santa Claus, just as my mamma does.”
“Oh, absolutely,” said Clarisse, and added, “What if we play a little
game! With a double dummy, the French way, or Norwegian Skat, if you
like. That only needs two.”
“All right,” agreed Ulvina, and in a few minutes they were deep in a
game of cards with a little pile of pocket money beside them.
About half an hour later, all the members of the two families were
again in the drawing-room. But of course nobody said anything about the
presents. In any case they were all too busy looking at the beautiful
big Bible, with maps in it, that the Joneses had brought to give to
Grandfather. They all agreed that, with the help of it, Grandfather
could hunt up any place in Palestine in a moment, day or night.
But upstairs, away upstairs in a sitting-room of his own Grandfather
Jones was looking with an affectionate eye at the presents that stood
beside him. There was a beautiful whisky decanter, with silver filigree
outside (and whiskey inside) for Jones, and for the little boy a big
nickel-plated Jew’s harp.
Later on, far in the night, the person, or the influence, or whatever
it is called Santa Claus, took all the presents and placed them in the
people’s stockings.
And, being blind as he always has been, he gave the wrong things to the
wrong people--in fact, he gave them just as indicated above.
But the next day, in the course of Christmas morning, the situation
straightened itself out, just as it always does.
Indeed, by ten o’clock, Brown and Jones were playing with the train, and
Mrs. Brown and Mrs. Jones were making dolls’ clothes, and the boys were
smoking cigarettes, and Clarisse and Ulvina were playing cards for their
pocket-money.
And upstairs--away up--Grandfather was drinking whisky and playing the
Jew’s harp.
And so Christmas, just as it always does, turned out all right after
all.