It had been a very busy day in the Baumgaertner bakery, and now as the
old Dutch clock on the wall struck seven, the clerks were flying
hither and thither, wrapping up packages and plumping them into
baskets, trying to get everything on their last loads, and at the same
time to give polite service to the many customers coming and going.
The Christmas puddings had not yet been delivered, but reposed in all
their fruity richness on the white-covered table in the rear of the
store, and exhaled such delicious odors that the whole air was
permeated with what seemed the very essence of Christmas.
The door opened, and this time Katrina Baumgaertner entered. In spite
of the rush of business all the clerks stopped long enough to look at
Miss Katrina, who had a smile and a "Merry Christmas!" for each. They
felt very kindly toward the bright girl who took such an interest in
their families; who remembered to ask after Mrs. Reiman's asthma, and
Grandfather Potter's rheumatism, and who often sent delicacies to
their invalids.
"I forgot all about the cake for the Widow M'Carty's children," she
explained, "so I came early to get it. I will mark it, and you won't
forget to see that it is delivered, will you?" she asked, beaming on
all the clerks at once.
Every clerk declared that Mrs. M'Carty should have her Christmas cake
if it had to be taken to her in person.
"Katrina, stay here one leetle while and help your Vater," said the
baker as Katrina stopped before his desk, where he was busy making
entries in a large ledger. "You vos joost in time. Dere is dose
puddings. Wrap dem in dose papers and set dem on dot table by der
door oudt. Hans Kleinhardt comes soon mit der cards. Den he takes
dose puddings and sends dem away."
"Oh, father," cried Katrina in dismay, "I haven't time. I just came
down to get the cake for the Widow M'Carty's children, and the
sleigh-ride party will call for me here in a few minutes. Couldn't one
of the clerks do it?"
"Nein, nein, Katrina, dose clerks have too much business already. If
you vants dot cake for dose M'Cartys, den you wrop up dose puddings
right away queek. No vork, no play, mein Katrina."
Katrina slipped off her cloak and went to work. The first pudding had
been wrapped up when the sound of bells was heard mingled with the
shouts of happy voices. She hastened to the door, but found it was not
her sleigh-ride party after all, and was returning to her task when
she remembered the cake for the Widow. Selecting a round loaf with
nuts and candied fruits dotted over the frosted surface, she took it
back with her to the table, did it up, and set it on the shelf behind
her. Taking a card, she wrote:
"To Mrs. Michael M'Carty
with a Merry Christmas
from
Katrina Baumgaertner,"
and was about to place it on the cake when another jingle of bells was
heard. Catching up the pudding, she hurried again to the front of the
store, set the pudding on the table, and, unwittingly, dropped beside
it the card bearing the Widow M'Carty's name. She opened the door, but
the sleigh with its merry load passed on, and Katrina returned to her
enforced labors.
Max Schaub was collecting the last parcels for his load when he
chanced to see the package on the table. He picked up the card and
read,--"Mrs. Michael M'Carty."
"Bless her sweet eyes,"--meaning Katrina, not the widow,--"'Tis I will
see that this cake gets to the Widow M'Carty's children. Does she not
ask after the leg of my lame August as if it were her very
own,"--meaning Katrina, not the widow,--"and in my coat pocket have I
not the singing-box she has sent him for Christmas,--and she with nine
small kinder, too?"--meaning the widow, not Katrina.
Thus soliloquizing, he marked a basket in which he deposited the
pudding, and gave it to his driver, telling him to leave it at the
widow's on the way back to the store.
[Illustration: "HE PICKED UP THE CARD AND READ"]
Katrina tied up the second pudding and placed it on the table from
which the first had been removed just as Clerk Reiman entered the
door. Remembering Katrina's request, he went to the table, and reading
the card, concluded that the package beside it contained the cake
destined to make happy the nine small children of the Widow M'Carty.
He put it in a basket, marked it for the widow, and gave it to his
special driver, who was just starting off with his load.
Katrina's mind was on the anticipated joys of the evening, and she
performed her task mechanically, thinking all the time of Johann and
longing for the arrival of the sleighing party.
Ten more puddings were enveloped in their wrappings of lace-edged
tissue paper; ten more puddings were deposited, one by one, on the
table in the front of the store; ten more clerks, seeing the card
beside a package,--for each in his hurry forgot to drop the card in
his basket,--consigned a pudding to the care of his own driver,
charging him to deliver it, without fail, to the Widow M'Carty with a
"Merry Christmas from Katrina Baumgaertner."
Katrina had wrapped up the last pudding, when the sound of a horn, a
chorus of voices, and the music of sleigh-bells caused her to run to
the door once more. She opened it to come face to face with the
gallant Johann. Joyfully donning her wraps, she hastened away to join
the sleighing party, leaving the thirteenth pudding to its fate.
A few moments later the baker came out of his office, and seeing the
puddings gone, nodded his head with satisfaction and said:
"Dot Hans was one goot man. Him I haf nefer to vatch. He does joost
vot I tells him, effery time already."
* * * * *
But where was the faithful Hans Kleinhardt who was personally
responsible for the safe delivery of those thirteen puddings?
His supper finished, Hans was hastening back to the store with the
important cards in his pocket. A shout, a scurrying to avoid a runaway
horse, a hurt man, a crowd, an ambulance,--and Hans Kleinhardt,
unconscious of all around him, was on his way to the City Hospital.
[Illustration: "WAS ON HIS WAY TO THE CITY HOSPITAL"]
An hour later a surgeon, with an air of satisfaction, said to a quiet
little nurse:
"A beautiful fracture,--compound,--man in good condition,--will
recover nicely,--but don't let him talk for twenty-four hours."
And in that man's pocket lay thirteen cards, and _they_ never said a
word.
_Sixth Episode_