CHRISTMAS AT BELLVIEU
The fall days slipped rapidly by, and still Dorothy continued to take
instruction from Herr Deichenberg, improving her technique with each
lesson under the old music master's careful guidance. The concert had
been a revelation to her. For the first time in her life she had
stood before a great assemblage and heard the roars of applause which
her playing aroused, and it had given her confidence as nothing else
could.
Aunt Betty's deep-rooted prejudice against a stage career was the
only thing that served to mar the girl's pleasure, and even this
caused no great unhappiness, for Aunt Betty's refusal to allow
Dorothy to play professional engagements took the form only of feeble
protests. This led the girl to hope her relative might gradually be
won over.
Then, as the holidays approached, bringing a letter from Molly in
which she stated that she and the Judge would arrive at Bellvieu
several days before Christmas, the stage career was for the time
relegated to the innermost recesses of her mind, and she joined Aunt
Betty in an effort to have a real, old-fashioned Christmas. This,
with the aid of Ephraim, Dinah and Chloe, they were fortunately able
to do. As the preparations went forward, Aunt Betty's delight knew no
bounds, and her soul was filled with rapturousness as joy after joy
unfolded itself to relieve the tedium and monotony of her old age.
A week before the eventful day, Ephraim and Metty, with two other
negroes, hired for the occasion, took a team and sleigh and set out
for the timber along the shore of the bay. There had been a heavy
fall of snow the night before and the ground was covered with a
sparkling mantle, while an invigorating breeze from the north filled
everyone with energetic desires.
Once at their destination Ephraim and his men felled a large black
gum tree from which two logs were cut. These were just short of four
feet in length and cut with the especial purpose of filling the two
large fire-places in the Calvert mansion.
Returning late in the evening with their load, they rolled the big
logs into the duck pond back of the barn, where the crust of ice was
thin, there to soak until Christmas morning, at which time they would
be placed in their respective fire-places in the big dining and
living-rooms of the house, and a fire kindled.
Ephraim was thoroughly familiar with the old custom, and it was
understood between him and Aunt Betty that he should keep good fires
burning during the day and banked during the night after bed time.
Logs such as these would, by this process, last ten days, or until
the holidays had come and gone, for they were burned until not a
vestige remained but ashes.
During the latter part of November Aunt Betty had caused a half dozen
of her finest turkeys to be put up to fatten. Some days later several
huge pound cakes had been baked and a nice little pig put in the pen
to grow round and tender, later to be roasted whole, with a tempting
red apple in his mouth. Mincemeat, souse, and stuffed sausages, those
edibles of the early days, which Aunt Betty had grown to love and
yearn for, were provided on this occasion by Chloe and Dinah, and
when, a few days before Christmas, Metty returned from the woods with
a fine, fat possum, the mistress of Bellvieu began to feel that her
Christmas would be indeed complete.
A store of sweet potatoes had been laid by, and green apple,
pumpkin, potato and other pies made and stored in the cellar.
In the days of Aunt Betty's girlhood, when there were no cooking
stoves, turkeys were cooked in a turkey roaster made of sheet iron,
with a dripping-pan in the bottom and a large tin lid, much
resembling a buggy top, over the pan. When Mr. Turkey was stuffed and
otherwise prepared for the feast, he was spitted on an iron rod that
passed through the sides of the roaster and on through his body from
end to end. Then he was ready for the finishing touches over a
red-hot fire. The roasters had legs at each corner, so that hot
embers could be placed under it when necessary. The tin top reflected
the heat and had hinges so that it could be turned back when the cook
basted the turkey with a prepared sauce. The dripping-pan at the
bottom served to catch and hold the rich gravy.
As Aunt Betty stood now, watching the preparations for the roasting
of one of the turkeys, her thoughts traveled back to those other
days, and she marveled at the progress of civilization.
"Lawsee, Mis' Betty!" cried Chloe, as she stopped to wipe her hands
on her gingham apron. "We's gwine tuh hab 'nuff food in dis yere
house tuh feed er million people, looks like tuh me."
Aunt Betty laughed.
"Better too much than not enough," she observed. "I reckon there
won't be much left by the time New Year's Day has come and gone.
Gerald and Aurora Blank will be over for Christmas dinner, and will
drop in for occasional meals during holiday week. Then, with Miss
Molly and her father, and Herr and Frau Deichenberg, there will be a
nice little party here at home. Those boys, Jim and Len, have
appetites that will startle you. Oh, yes; we have lots to eat, Chloe,
but--well, you just watch it disappear!"
"Yas'm; we'll watch hit, all right, en I reckon, Mis' Betty, dat
Ephy, Dinah en me'll sort o' _help_ it disappear, too!"
Chloe, bending nearly double, guffawed loudly at her own joke.
Aunt Betty smiled, too, then went to the front of the house to meet
the carriage which had been sent to the train, with Dorothy and Jim
in it, to meet Judge Breckenridge and Molly.
Dorothy's chum waved her hand at Aunt Betty, then came hurrying up
the walk, to be the first to greet the mistress of Bellvieu. Then
came the Judge, cane in hand, assisted by Jim, looking much better,
but still somewhat enfeebled in health.
"I'm glad indeed to see you again, Judge Breckenridge," greeted Aunt
Betty, as she clasped one of his hands in both her own. "I am
particularly pleased to be able to welcome you to a Christmas at
Bellvieu."
"And I am more than pleased to be here," was the Judge's response. "I
am sure it will be one of the most delightful trips of my life."
Once inside, and ensconced in easy chairs in the living-room, Aunt
Betty pressed him for news concerning his sister, Lucretia, as well
as Mrs. Hungerford, Mrs. Stark and Mrs. Cook, not forgetting to ask
if the Judge ever heard from Joel Snackenberg. These questions
answered to her entire satisfaction, Aunt Betty excused herself to
see to the preparing of the mid-day meal, leaving Jim to talk to the
Judge.
"I haven't seen you in a long time, my boy," said Molly's father,
"but it seems to me you are growing into a fine, strong young man.
Molly tells me you've left Dr. Sterling for good."
"Yes, sir; I thought I'd better strike out for myself."
"And what do you intend doing, if I may ask?"
"I intend learning electricity, sir--in fact, it is on Dr. Sterling's
advice that I do so. Aunt Betty through some of her friends here,
has arranged to secure me a place the first of the year. I have been
idle during the past few months waiting for this position to
materialize, and I'm certainly glad it is coming out all right."
"You will have to serve an apprenticeship, I suppose?"
"Yes, sir."
"Well, electricity is a good thing to know, Jim. I wish you every
success. Hello--who is this?"
The Judge's eyes were turned toward a lad who entered the room at
that moment. It was Len Haley, attired in a brand new Christmas suit,
and looking as spick and span as one could wish.
"Oh, I'd forgotten you didn't know Len, sir. Surely you've heard
Molly speak of Len Haley, sir? He's the boy we rescued from a cruel
uncle on our camping trip last summer. Aunt Betty has had him under
her wing ever since. This is Molly's father, Len."
"Yes, yes," said the Judge. "So this is Len Haley, the boy who was
lost in the woods in the dead of night?" The judge reached out and
took Len's hand. "I am glad to know you, my boy, and to learn that
you have found such a fortunate way around your troubles."
"Thank you, sir."
"Anyone whom Mrs. Betty Calvert stands sponsor for is surely to be
envied."
"I think so too, sir," said Len, beginning to thaw out under Judge
Breckenridge's good-natured smile.
When Dorothy and Molly came downstairs and joined them, they made a
merry party. Molly had changed her traveling dress for a clean frock,
and with her hair arranged prettily in the latest mode, made even Jim
Barlow "sit up and take notice." As for the Judge and his gayety, if
old in years, he was young in heart, and forgot his infirmities to
such an extent that Aunt Betty, entering suddenly, threw up her hands
in amazement.
"I knew this trip would make a wonderful improvement in you, Judge,"
said she, "but had no idea the change would be effected in so rapid a
manner."
"I just can't help it, Mrs. Calvert. To see these young folks about
me makes me feel young again, which reminds me that I have never been
happier than when I once took the boys and girls on a jaunt through
the Nova Scotia woods."
"A jaunt that ended in my giving a house party at Deerhurst," said
Dorothy. "That was after I had learned that I was not a homeless
waif, but the great-niece of Mrs. Betty Calvert."
"It was papa, if you remember, who ran down the clues leading to the
discovery that Mrs. Calvert was your relative," said Molly.
"And I'll never forget how overjoyed we all were when we knew to whom
our girl friend was related," and the old Judge leaned over and
stroked Dorothy's hand as he spoke.
"Then came my humiliation," said Aunt Betty in a reminiscent tone. "I
was forced to admit to you all that when my nephew's baby came I was
indignant, feeling that I was too old to have a squalling infant
forced upon me. Then, better thoughts prevailing, I saw in Dorothy
traces of my own family likeness and wanted to keep her. Then I
listened to Dinah and Ephraim, and finally took their advice to hunt
up a worthy couple unburdened with children of their own, and force
the child upon them to be reared in simple, sensible ways. When I
found that you had discovered the relationship between us, I did only
what my heart had been bidding me do for many years--took Dorothy to
my bosom, and into my household where she belonged."
Dinah came to the door to say that lunch was served, and the party
filed into the dining-room to continue the discussion at the table.
On the following morning--the day before Christmas--a great bundle of
presents arrived from one of the Baltimore department stores, and was
taken upstairs by Ephraim, there to be concealed.
On the night before Christmas, following the time-honored custom,
stockings of every size and color were strung up around the big
fire-place in the living-room. Those of the Judge, Jim and Len not
being large enough, garments of a satisfactory size were generously
tendered by Dorothy and Molly. Going late to bed, hoping that old
Santa Claus would be good to each of them, the young folks awoke in
the morning to find their stockings fairly bulging with good things.
There was a cane and a pocketbook from the Judge to Jim, and wearing
apparel running from neckties to shirts from Aunt Betty and the
girls. Len came in for a similar lot of presents, his gift from the
Judge being a shining five-dollar gold piece, which he declared
should go in the savings bank as a foundation of his fortune.
Dorothy and Molly were well remembered, the gifts being both pretty
and useful, and running principally to toilet articles and lingerie,
while Aunt Betty found great difficulty in lifting her stocking from
its peg over the fire-place, so heavy was it.
Early Christmas morning came a belated 'phone message from Herr
Deichenberg, accepting on the part of him and Frau Deichenberg, the
kind invitation extended by Aunt Betty to gather around the festive
Christmas board. It had been necessary to postpone two lessons, the
music master said, which accounted for the delay in letting them
know.
At ten o'clock Gerald and Aurora arrived. There had been a slight
protest on the part of Mr. and Mrs. Blank at the children being away
from home for Christmas dinner, but a compromise had been effected by
which they were to eat with their parents on New Year's Day.
With the arrival of Herr and Frau Deichenberg nothing then remained
but to serve the dinner. Metty and Ephraim were both pressed into
service, and with Chloe and Dinah working like Trojans in the
kitchen, the meal was served on scheduled time, and to the entire
satisfaction of everyone concerned.
Tale and jest passed around the table, as the members of the
Christmas party made merry.
"Christmas comes but once a year," some one has said, and with this
in their minds, trouble was given its _conge_ for the time being, and
mirth and gayety reigned supreme.
Herr Deichenberg was asked to tell of the old German customs at
Christmas time, which he did in an interesting way. He told of the
toymakers of Nuremberg and other cities, and how easily and
dexterously they did their work. Then there were many humorous
incidents of his own boyhood, which he remembered and told with such
success, that he had the entire party roaring with laughter before
the meal was half over.
When he had finished, the Judge and Aunt Betty took turns telling of
strange and funny incidents that had come under their observation at
various Christmas times, and by the time dessert was reached everyone
felt at peace with the world.
It was a dinner long to be remembered, and when it was over they all
gathered in the living-room, where the Herr was induced to play a
number of his favorite pieces, Dorothy's violin being pressed into
service for the occasion.
Dorothy next took her turn with the violin, Herr Deichenberg playing
her accompaniments on the piano. Molly, who had not heard her chum
play for many months, was astonished at the progress she had made,
as was the Judge, and they complimented both master and pupil, after
three pieces had been rendered. The players then stopped under
protest, promising to play more before the gathering broke up.
Jim sang a bass solo. Gerald also rendered a song, his sweet tenor
voice delighting his auditors, after which the old quartette of the
mountain camp was formed again and sang familiar pieces in such a
manner as to win the heartiest of commendation from all--even that
captious critic, Herr Deichenberg.
Aunt Betty was asked to speak one of her girlhood pieces, but begged
to be allowed to substitute old Ephraim, who, upon being urged,
recited the following verses, remembered since his earliest
recollection:
"Sho' 'nuff, is dat yo', buddie?
Why, I sca'ce beliebs mah eyes!
Yo's growed so slendah en so tall,
I like not tuh know yo' size.
Does yo' eber hunt de possum--
Climb de ole p'simmon tree?
Like we did in de good ole times
W'en de niggah wasn't free?
We'd take ole Tige, en den a torch,
Den we'd start out fo' a spree,
Lots o' fellers wuz in dat chase,
Erside, mah boy, frum yo' en me,
After a w'ile ole Tige'd yelp,
Den we'd know dar's sumpthin' round,
Er rabbit, coon, er possum, sho',
Er gittin' ober de ground.
W'en up de tree de possum run,
Den ole Tige he'd change he tune,
Den wif de torch we'd shine his eyes
Den we'd nab him pretty soon,
We'd break he neck, en build er fire
Den a tater roast, yo' mind;
Why, bress yo' heart, dis make me cry,
Nebber mo' dem times yo' find.
De Massa's gone--ole Missus, gone,
En mah ole woman am, too;
I'm laid up now wif rheumatiz,
En mah days am growin' few.
Ole Tige mos' blind en crippled up,
So dat he can't hunt no mo';
No possums now tuh grease de chops,
Oh, I's feelin' mighty po'!"
As Ephraim concluded he made a most elaborate bow, touching his hand
to his forelock--or where the forelock should have been.
The old negro's interested listeners burst into loud applause, and
the bow was repeated again and again. The verses had been rendered
with considerable feeling and some sense of their poetic value,
which, of course, Ephraim had learned from hearing the verses recited
by others.
Len Haley, upon being called on for a contribution to the
entertainment, spoke the first--and last--piece he had learned
during the few short months he had attended school. It was a
temperance piece, and if not thoroughly in keeping with the festive
occasion, was at least one of the most earnest efforts of the
afternoon.
Aurora, who was an elocutionist of no mean merit, rendered
Longfellow's "Hiawatha," with such realistic touches that Herr
Deichenberg sat spellbound through her recital, to spring up and
grasp her hand when she had finished.
"My dear girl," he cried, "dat was excellent--excellent. I am proud,
indeed, to know you."
"I trust you will never have occasion to change your mind," was the
girl's pleasant response.
The entertainment over, Herr Deichenberg and Judge Breckenridge
engaged in a checker contest, which was so closely fought that the
others stopped whatever they were doing to look on. The Herr was
finally triumphant, taking four games out of seven.
When the Christmas party broke up that evening, all were agreed that
it had been one of the most glorious holiday times they had ever
spent.