THE CHRISTMAS TREE.
Christmas morning dawned bright and clear, the one drawback the lack of
snow. Thomas had everything in readiness, and every one in the house was
looking forward to a sleigh-ride. However, all the other Christmas
customs were observed. Before breakfast was the general distribution
of gifts. We were all assembled at the usual breakfast hour in the
dining-room, when Mrs. Flaxman rang the bell for the servants to come
in. Reynolds was the first to appear. She took her seat nearest to Mr.
Winthrop; then Mrs. Jones, the cook, and Thomas, Esmerelda, and Samuel
came in.
Reynolds got her present first--a nice black silk dress. I saw by the
pleased flush in her face that she was considerably astonished. The
others, each a five-dollar bill; and for Samuel, a jack-knife that would
be the envy of all his comrades. Mrs. Flaxman had something for each one
of them, and then I followed. When I reached Samuel and handed him the
watch from which was suspended a glittering chain, his politeness quite
forsook him. "Golly, but that's a stunner," he ejaculated involuntarily.
Suddenly remembering himself he said, very humbly: "Thank you, ma'am."
Thomas regarded his book with some apprehension; but turning over the
leaves, the pictures of so many handsome horses reconciled him. After
they had filed out I took my opportunity to deliver the gifts I had
prepared with much care for Mr. Winthrop and Mrs. Flaxman; for the latter
an idealized portrait of Hubert, in a heavy gilt frame, which I had
painted from a photograph; and for Mr. Winthrop a much better picture of
Oaklands than the one he already possessed.
I turned to Mr. Bovyer uncertainly, and, after a moment hesitation, said:
"I have a bit of my work here for you; but it is so little worth. I am
ashamed to offer it." I handed him the folded leaves, tied with ribbons,
of Longfellow's "Reapers and the Angels," which I had spent some time in
trying to illustrate, with the hope one day of turning it into cash. He
thanked me, I thought, with unnecessary fervor, considering the smallness
of the gift, and stood examining my poor attempt to express the poet's
meaning by brush and pencil.
"I say, Winthrop, this is really clever for one so young."
Mr. Winthrop took the book and turned over the leaves.
"You have reason to be proud, Medoline, that one of our severest art
critics has pronounced favorably on your work. Perhaps the being
remembered on Christmas morning has made him blind to its faults."
"I find Mr. Winthrop a very healthy corrective against any flattering
remarks of my other friends, I accept him as a sort of mental tonic," I
said, turning to Mr. Bovyer.
"Our morning's work is not yet completed," Mr. Winthrop said. "Please
excuse me a moment." He went into the library, and returning shortly, he
went first to Mrs. Flaxman and gave her a good sized parcel. I was
waiting so eagerly to see her open it that I scarce thought if I, too,
should be remembered; but after standing for a few seconds by the fire he
came to my side and gave me a tiny box done up carelessly in a bit of
paper. I opened it, when the most beautiful diamond ring I ever saw
glittered a moment after on my finger.
"Oh, Mr. Winthrop, is this really and truly mine?"
"Really and truly, yes."
In my surprise and delight I lifted the ring to my lips and kissed it.
"That is the prettiest compliment paid to a gift I ever witnessed," Mr.
Bovyer said, with a smile.
"Medoline has her own way of doing things. I find her refreshingly
original."
"That is almost better than the ring," I murmured gratefully, looking up
into his face.
"Shall we have breakfast served now?" He turned abruptly round and
touched the bell. I bethought me of Mrs. Flaxman and looked just in
time to see her slipping off an elegant sealskin dolman, while her eyes
looked very dewy and tender.
"Mr. Winthrop, you are making this Christmas-tide positively regal with
your gifts. So many of us that you have gladdened--Mill Road folks and
all," I said, not able wholly to restrain my affectionate impulses as I
laid my hand lightly on his--the first time I had ever so touched him.
He folded his other hand over mine for an instant, and then we sat down
to the breakfast which had just been brought in.
Mr. Winthrop and Mr. Bovyer spent the greater part of the day together
alone. After breakfast they took a long horseback ride across country,
only reaching home in time for luncheon, and then Mr. Winthrop had some
choice additions to his library to exhibit, that kept them employed until
dinner. Mrs. Flaxman smiled at the way Mr. Bovyer's time was engrossed by
my guardian, but I do not think either of us regretted it; for we had so
many happy fancies of our own to dwell upon that the brief December day
seemed all too short. Just before dinner I went to the kitchen to see how
Samuel was getting on with his timepiece, but found that he had been away
all day.
"That watch of his has been more talked about in Cooper's Lane, where his
folks live, than anything else, I'll warrant, this day," Thomas assured
me. "He'll be back soon. The smell of dinner always fetches him home."
We had scarce done speaking when I heard his step at the door, and
presently he came in. His watch-chain was arranged in most conspicuous
fashion across his waistcoat, and caught the light very cheerfully as he
stood near the lamp.
"What's the time?" Thomas asked soberly; but Samuel was too smart to be
so easily trapped.
"There's the clock right afore your eyes."
"The time maybe'd be better from a bran new watch."
I did not linger to hear more of their badinage, but the look of
satisfaction on Samuel's face found a reflection in my own heart, and I
wondered in what way I could have spent a few dollars to procure a larger
amount of happiness. We had quite a large dinner party that evening. Mr.
Hill, our minister, was there, with his wife and grown-up daughter, and
some half-dozen others of our Cavendish acquaintances. I found the hour
at dinner rather heavy and tiresome. My neighbors on my right and left
being--the one a regular diner-out whose conversation was mostly
gustatory, and the other a youth whose ideas never seemed to rise above
the part of his hair or cut of his garments. I noticed Mr. Bovyer sitting
further up on the other side of the table looking quite as bored as I
felt, his next neighbor being a young lady the exact counterpart in ideas
and aims of the youth beside me. The dinner itself was a triumph of
cook's skill, and, as is usually the case with a dinner suitably
prepared, its effect was composing. Mr. Winthrop neither drank wine nor
smoked, and did not encourage these habits in his guests; so that we all
left the table together and proceeded to the drawing-room. I was the last
of the ladies to pass from the room, and Mr. Bovyer joined me and
accompanied me into the drawing-room. I was getting interested in his
conversation, when Mr. Winthrop came and urged for some music.
"It is impossible just now; I do not feel as if I could do justice even
to 'Hail Columbia.'"
"Then, Medoline, you will give us some of your German songs, and, by the
time you are through, Mr. Bovyer will be in the mood to enchant us."
"With the exception of our school examinations, I never played before so
many persons in my life. I shall find it very hard," I said, already
beginning to tremble with nervousness.
"It will be an excellent opportunity to display your ring."
My face crimsoned. Possibly I had allowed the hand that wore my diamond
ring a little too much freedom; but the sparkle of the beautiful gem,
that just now reminded me of a huge tear-drop, pleased me; for I was
still much of a child at heart.
As we were crossing the room, I said: "It is not good taste for me to
take the piano first. There are others here who should have been
invited."
"Tut, child; I never ask them. They would distract me with their noise."
"Is that not an indirect compliment for me?" I said, looking up at him,
my good humor partially restored.
"I shall be compelled to designate you the mark of interrogation--call
you rogue for shortness."
"After this morning's experience, I shall not be able to find any name
nice enough for you," I said, gently.
"That is cruel--literally smothering me with coals of fire."
I turned over my music with trembling fingers; for, more than all, I
dreaded Mr. Bovyer. Selecting one of the simplest songs, I sat down,
determined to go resolutely through with it. When I ceased, I found that
Mr. Bovyer had joined us. I rose hastily. "I am so glad you have come;
you will reward my obedience to Mr. Winthrop, surely?"
"Yes--by asking for some more of that tender music of the Fatherland. My
mother used to croon that song over us in childhood."
Mr. Winthrop joined his commands; so I complied, with a German martial
song; and then, rising quickly, I went to the further side of the room,
and took a seat beside Mrs. Hill.
"You have got tired before the rest of us, dear."
"I would not like to tire you. Mr. Bovyer is going to play now, and we
shall none of us be in danger of weariness."
And he did play as I had never heard him do before, filling the room with
harmonies that sometimes grew painful in their excess of sweetness.
Conversation ceased utterly--a compliment not usually paid to musicians,
I had noticed, in Cavendish.
I glanced occasionally at Mr. Winthrop, who had taken a seat not far from
where I was sitting. He sat with eyes closed, but not betraying, by a
single muscle of the strong, self-contained face, that the music was
affecting him in the slightest.
"This evening has given us something to remember until our dying day,"
Mrs. Hill said, with a deep sigh of satisfaction, after Mr. Bovyer ceased
playing. "It was exceedingly kind in Mr. Winthrop permitting us to share
in the evening's enjoyment."
"Was it for this he invited you?" I asked, with surprise.
"That was the inducement to leave our homes on Christmas Day. But we do
not need a special inducement to come to Oaklands; we always consider
it a high privilege to be Mr. Winthrop's guest."
"Yes, he can be very charming when he chooses," I said, unthinkingly, but
very sorry for my remark directly it was uttered. "Then you were only
invited here this morning, since Mr. Bovyer had only just arrived?" I
asked.
"Oh, no, indeed; our invitations were received a week ago. Mr. Winthrop
knew he was coming."
All these people knew Mr. Bovyer was coming, and a gala time planned for
Christmas, and I was kept in ignorance. Mr. Winthrop don't regard me of
enough importance to be intrusted with the merest trifles of everyday
life, I thought, sorrowfully; but just then my eye fell on the ring, when
it flashed into my gloomy heart a ray of light brighter than any sunbeam.
The two following days I was so absorbed in my Christmas tree that I paid
very little attention to our guest, or anything going on about me, save
what was directly connected with the duty in hand. A list of all the
names had first to be got, and then each gift properly labeled. Muslin
bags, ornamented with bright-colored wools, were to be made, and filled
with nuts and confectionery; and, last of all, the tree had to be
dressed. Mr. Bowen and Daniel Blake entered so heartily into the spirit
of the undertaking that I found my own labors greatly lessened. Thomas
cheerfully gave up his most cherished plans to carry the supplies to the
hall, and things generally went on very satisfactorily. Others, too, sent
in hampers filled with Christmas dainties; among the rest, one from Mrs.
Hill, to whom I had very fully described my undertaking. Mrs. Blake
watched the heap slowly accumulating with a very preoccupied face; at
last she spoke her mind freely:
"It seems a pity to have all these things eat up, and get no good from
'em. Now, I'd like to charge a trifle, and let every one come that wants
to."
"What would be done with the money?"
"There's plenty of ways to spend it; but if I could have a say in the
matter I'd like to give it to them poor little creatures I had for dinner
Christmas. The mother's jest heart-broke. I believe you could count their
bones; leastways all of them that's next the skin. I railly thought I
could not get them filled; but I did at last, and then they was stupid
like, they'd been short of victuals so long."
"Are their clothes as poor as their bodies?"
"Yes, indeed; and it does seem hard this cold weather for little children
to have neither flesh nor flannels over the bones."
"I am perfectly willing to make a small charge, if you can let it be
known in time for the people to be prepared."
"Oh, Dan'el and Mr. Bowen 'll see to that. Put up a notice in the mill
and post-office; everybody 'll find it out."
So it was agreed that we should make the grown up folk pay something; but
I insisted the price must not exceed twenty-five cents.
I went home to luncheon on Friday, very tired, but also very enthusiastic
over our tree. If I could secure Mr. Winthrop's consent to a plain
dinner, our entire domestic force could attend, and they were all eager
to do so. He and Mr. Bovyer were engaged in a warm discussion over some
knotty subject as they entered the dining-room, thereby compelling me to
leave my question for sometime unasked. But Mr. Bovyer presently turned
to me and said,
"Really, Miss Selwyn, you must think we have forgotten your existence."
"Oh, no, indeed; but I should like you to converse on something within
nearer range of my faculties for a little while."
"We are all attention."
I turned to Mr. Winthrop as he spoke:
"Is it really imperative that you have a regular dinner to-day? Could you
not take something easily prepared, a cup of tea, for instance, and some
cold meats, and the like?"
"You propose a genuine funeral repast. Is anything about to happen?"
"Our Christmas tree; and our entire household is eager to go, yourself
excepted."
"Why can't we all go?" Mr. Bovyer suggested, with considerable eagerness.
Mr. Winthrop looked aghast.
"They would think on the Mill Road the millennium was dawning if Mr.
Winthrop were to step down among them," I said.
"Then by all means let us foster the illusion."
"I will take the baked meats, Medoline, or a cracker and cheese--anything
rather than that crowd."
"That is ever so kind. I will come home to brew you a cup of tea myself.
Ever since I was a child I have wanted to prepare a meal all alone--it
will be really better than the Christmas tree; I mean more enjoyable."
"You have the greatest capacity for simple pleasures of any one I ever
knew. We shall accept your services. Before you are through, you may find
the task not so enjoyable as you think; but at the very worst we will
give our help."
"Thank you very much; but one ignoramus blundering in the kitchen will be
better than three."
Mrs. Flaxman looked greatly amused, but she very willingly gave her
consent for me to come home while the guests were absorbed with their
supper, and gratify my life-long yearning. The others were quite as well
pleased as I; and cook permitted me to concoct, unaided, some special
dishes for our repast. I laid the table myself, not accepting the
slightest help from any one. My cooking ventures turned out quite
successfully, and after a while my preparations were completed, so
far as was possible, until the finishing touches just before dinner was
served. I went and dressed myself for the evening's entertainment. I took
equal pains with my costume, as if I were going to entertain a party of
friends at home, and it may be I was foolish enough to have a feeling of
elation that my Mill Road friends should see me for once dressed like a
real lady. The picture that my glass gave back when the pleasant task was
all completed was comfortably reassuring. Mrs. Flaxman I found waiting
for me, when I went downstairs. Thomas had brought out at her direction a
huge, old-fashioned carriage, that in the old days they had christened
"Noah's Ark," and into it we all crowded, even including Samuel, who had
an ambition for once in his life to have a drive with the aristocracy.
When we reached the hall, we found it already crowded, although it wanted
a full hour before supper was to be announced. Mr. Bowen was doorkeeper,
and on the table at his side I was glad to see a goodly heap of coin.
Mrs. Blake stood near, regarding the money with unconcealed satisfaction,
which considerably deepened when Mrs. Flaxman stepped up and shook hands
with her. Daniel seemed to be master of ceremonies, and was walking
around with a mixed air of anxiety and satisfaction. The work was new to
him, and he was somewhat uncertain all the time what to do next. But on
the whole he managed everything with good common sense. He had the
children seated directly in front of the tree, some fifty of them, he
assured me. Their faces were a picture of genuine childish delight.
Probably memory would hold this scene clearly pictured on some of their
hearts long after I was sleeping under the daisies. Long tables were
ranged down each side of the house, on which was placed the food the
people had come to enjoy. We walked slowly past them, and were surprised
at the judgment and good taste of the arrangements. I waited until the
children's tea was over. They were really the guests of the evening, and
must be first served. Then in the bustle of getting the table in
readiness for the older ones, I made my escape.
Thomas was waiting near to drive me home, his face quite radiant at the
success of our enterprise. Arrived at Oaklands, I entered with great glee
into our culinary operations, and soon had the dinner prepared. When my
gentlemen came into the dining-room I was sitting, hot, and a trifle
anxious, at the head of the table awaiting them. My respect for the
powers in the kitchen that carried on our domestic machinery with so
little jar, greatly increased. We had a laughable time changing the
plates for our different courses. Thomas, who was installed in
Esmerelda's place at the back of my chair, was about as awkward in his
new situation as I was; but at the close of our repast, Mr. Winthrop,
with apparent sincerity, assured us he had not enjoyed a dinner so much
since his boyhood--a compliment that fully repaid me for my worry until
I had thought it well over, and saw that it was capable of several
meanings. I entertained them with a lively description of the scene going
on at the Temperance Hall. Mr. Bovyer declared his intention of
accompanying me on my return--a resolution, I could see, that was
anything but pleasing to Mr. Winthrop. I was secretly very glad, since it
was possible he might make a donation to our doorkeeper. Once on the way,
Thomas drove his horses as I had never seen him do before. Possibly he
was afraid the supper might all be consumed. He had paid his fee, and was
resolved to get his money's worth. He may have hoped that by some happy
chance he might sit down with those with whom he could not expect on any
other occasion to have a similar privilege. I paid particular attention
to Mr. Bovyer. As we passed Mr. Bowen's table I saw him drop, in quiet
fashion, a bank note upon it. Mr. Bowen hastened to make change, but Mr.
Bovyer shook his head and passed on. I turned to look at Mr. Bowen, and
saw his face suddenly light up so cheerfully that I concluded he had
received a generous donation. I led Mr. Bovyer up where the children,
growing now very curious over the Christmas Tree, were with difficulty
preserving the proprieties of the occasion. He looked them over
carefully, as if they were some distinct species from another planet, and
then turning to me, said, "Did you say these were all poor children?"
"Their fathers are day laborers, and some of them are without that useful
adjunct to childhood."
"They look rosy and happy."
"I presume they would look happy under present circumstances if their
fathers were tramps. You should see the homes some of them will return to
when they leave here. You would wonder at the forgetfulness of
childhood."
"How did you chance to think of this merry gathering?"
"I am not sure it was chance. All our thoughts do not come in that way."
"Are the children here who are to reap the largest benefit from this
affair?"
"Yes. Do you see those pale, pinched-faced girls with the pink-cotton
frocks on, sitting at the end of that farthest bench, and these two boys
just in front with clothes several sizes too large?"
He stood silently regarding them for some time, and then said: "The world
is strangely divided. It is one of the reasons that makes me doubt the
existence of a beneficent All-Father."
"But these may get safely into the light and fullness of Heaven."
"Yes," he said, thoughtfully; "but how few of them will live up to the
requirements of admittance to that perfect place?"
"The rich have as many shortcomings as the poor. Sometimes I think they
have even more."
"You are very democratic."
"Is that a serious charge against me? The one perfect Being our world has
seen chose poverty, and a lot among the lowly. When the world grows
older, and men get wiser, possibly they will make the same choice."
"There have been solitary instances of the like along the ages--men of
whom the world was not worthy--but the most of us are not such stuff as
heroes are made of."
I turned to him with kindling eyes: "Wouldn't you like to be one of them,
Mr. Bovyer?"
He gave me a look that some way I did not care to meet, and turned my
eyes away quickly to a restless black-eyed little girl who was stretching
eager hands to a pink-cheeked dollie.
"You feel the sorrows of the poor and suffering more keenly than the most
of us, I fear, Miss Selwyn," he said--more to draw me into conversation
than anything else.
"My sympathies are of a very easy-going, æsthetic kind. Some of your
splendid music makes me cry. While I listen, I think of the hungry and
broken-hearted. I seem to hear their moans in the sob and swell of the
music. It was that which made Beethoven's Symphony so sad."
He did not say anything for a good while, and fell to watching the
longing in the children's faces, and my heart grew very pitiful towards
them. They were so near and yet so far from the objects of their desire.
So I resolved while the supper table was being cleared to begin the
distribution of my gifts, or rather, of Mr. Winthrop's.
I set Mr. Bovyer to work gathering the bags of confectionery, while I
carried them around to the excited children, taking bench by bench in
regular order, and filling the little outstretched hands, usually so
empty of any such dainties. The people came crowding around to watch,
while I began stripping the tree of its more enduring fruits. Mothers
with tears in their eyes, as they saw their little tots growing rapturous
over an unclothed dollie, or some other toy, beautiful to the
unaccustomed eyes of the poor little creatures. The tree was stripped at
last, and the children absorbed in the examination of their own or each
other's presents. Most of them seemed perfectly content, but a few of the
little boys looked enviously at the jack-knife in a companion's hand,
while casting dissatisfied glances at what had fallen to themselves.
It was time at last for the little folks to go home, and mothers soon
were busy hunting up children and their wraps.
The closing scene in the entertainment was the public announcement of
the evening's receipts; and we all looked with surprised faces at each
other when Mr. Bowen informed us that there was within a few cents of
one hundred dollars. "Some of our guests this evening have treated us
very generously; notably one gentleman in particular, who dropped a
twenty-dollar bill on the table beside me," Mr. Bowen said, in
conclusion. I gave Mr. Bovyer a meaning glance and also a very grateful
one; but it was apparently thrown away; for not a muscle of his face
moved in response to my smile. Mrs. Blake went around for a while like
one in a dream. "Deary me! it'll be jest like a fortin' to 'em," she
ejaculated at last; "but Miss Selwyn 'll have to take charge of it, or
that mis'able Bill Sykes 'll drink it up in no time."
And then it was decided to act on Mrs. Blake's suggestion, and the money
was given to me to expend on Mrs. Sykes and her children as they
required,--a task soon accomplished when their need was so urgent. We
went home that night very elated at the success of our venture. Cook
was slightly inclined to assume a large share of the credit, and as her
labor in the matter of cake and pastry making was so much greater than
anything I had done, I gracefully yielded her all the credit she could
desire. No doubt, in all undertakings, from the capture of a kingdom to
a tea meeting, there are many among to whom the honors by right belong.