Such a line of communication as was soon established between Mount
Hunger and New York, Mount Hunger and Cambridge, the Lost Nation and
Barton's River, Hunger-ford--the Fords' new name for the old Morris
farm--and the Blossom homestead on the Mountain!
Uncle Sam's post, the Western Union Telegraph Company, the American
Express, a line of freight, saddle horses, sleds, and the old
apple-green cart on runners were all pressed into service; in all the
United States of America there were no busier young people than those
belonging to the Lost Nation.
They wrote notes to one another with an air of great mystery; they drove
singly, in couples, or all together to Barton's River with Chi; they
smuggled in bundles and express packages of all sorts and sizes; looked
guilty if caught whispering together in the pantry; took many a
sled-ride over to Hunger-ford, and audaciously remained there three
hours at a time without giving Mrs. Blossom any good reason either for
their going or remaining.
The acquaintance formed between the Blossoms and the Fords just after
Thanksgiving, was fast ripening into friendship. March, usually shy
with strangers, fairly adored the tall, quiet son with the wonderful
smile, and expanded at once in his genial presence. With Ruth Ford he
had much in common; and regularly once a week since Thanksgiving he had
drawn and painted with her in her studio, the room that Aunt Tryphosa
had so graphically described. His gift was far more in that direction
than hers; and Ruth, recognizing it, encouraged him, spurred his
ambition, and placed all her materials at his disposal.
Rose's sweet voice had proved a delight to them all, and Hazel's violin
was being taught to play a gentle accompaniment to Alan Ford's, that
sang, or wept, or rejoiced according to the player's mood.
"I am so thankful, Ben, that our Rose can have the advantage of such
companions just at this time of her life," said Mrs. Blossom, on the
afternoon before Christmas when the two eldest, with Hazel, had gone
over to Hunger-ford with joyful secrets written all over their happy
faces.
"So am I, Mary. When I see young men like Ford, I realize what I lost
in being obliged to give up college on father's account," said Mr.
Blossom, with a sigh.
"I do, too, Ben; and what I 've lost in opportunity when I see that
gifted woman, Mrs. Ford. She has travelled extensively, she reads and
speaks both German and French, she is a really wonderful musician, and
keeps up with every interest of the day, besides being a splendid
housekeeper and devoted to her children."
"Do you regret it, Mary?" said her husband, looking straight before him
into the fire.
"Not with you, Ben," was Mary Blossom's answer. Taking her husband's
face in both her hands and turning it towards her, she looked into his
eyes, and received the smile and kiss that were always ready for her.
"If we did n't have all this when we were young people, Mary, we 'll
hope that we may have it in our children," he said, earnestly.
Just then Chi came in, and gave a loud preliminary, "Hem!" for to him,
Ben and Mary Blossom would always be lovers. "Guess 't is 'bout time to
hitch up, if you 're goin' clear down to Barton's to meet the train,
Ben; I 've got to go over eastwards with the children."
"All right, Chi, I 'd rather drive down to the station to-night; it's
good sleighing and our Mountain is a fine sight by moonlight."
"Can't be beat," said Chi, emphatically. "S'pose you 'll be back by
seven, sharp? I kind of want to time myself, on account of the
s'prise."
"We 'll say seven, and I 'll make it earlier if I can. You 're off for
Aunt Tryphosa's now?"
"Just finished loadin' up--There they are!" and in rushed the whole
troop, hooded and mittened and jacketed and leggined, ready for their
after-sunset raid.
"Good-bye, Martie!" screamed Cherry, wild with excitement, and made a
dash for the door; then she turned back with another dash that nearly
upset May, and, throwing her arms around her mother's neck, nearly
squeezed the breath from her body. "O Mumpsey, Dumpsey, dear! I 'm
having such an awfully good time; it's so much happier than last
Christmas!"
"And, O Popsey, Dopsey, dear!" laughed Rose, mimicking her, but with a
voice full of love, and both mittens caressing his face, "it's so good
to have you well enough to celebrate this year!"
Hazel slipped her hand into Chi's, and whispered, "Oh, Chi, I wish I had
a lot of brothers and sisters like Rose. Anyway, papa's coming to-night,
so I 'll have one of my own," she added proudly.
"Guess we 'd better be gettin' along," said Chi, still holding Hazel's
hand. "It's goin' to be a stinger, 'n' it's a mile 'n' a half over
there."
"Come on all!" cried March; "we 'll be back before you are, father."
"We 'll see about that," laughed his father, as he caught the merry
twinkle in his wife's eye.
But March was right by the margin of only a minute or two; for just as
the merry crowd entered the house on their return from their errand of
"goodwill," they heard Mr. Blossom drive the sleigh into the barn. In
another moment Hazel had flung wide the door and was caught up into her
father's arms.
In the midst of their cordial greetings there was a loud knock at the
door. They all started at the sound, and Budd, who was nearest, opened
it.
"Please, Budd, may I come in, too?" said a voice everyone recognized as
the Doctor's.
Then the whole Blossom household lost their heads where they had lost
their hearts the year before. Rose and Hazel and Cherry fairly
smothered him with kisses; Budd wrung one hand, March gripped another;
May clung to one leg, and the monster of a puppy contrived to get under
foot, although he stood two feet ten.
Jack Sherrill, looking in at the window upon all this loving hominess,
felt, somehow, physically and spiritually left out in the cold. "What a
fool I was to come!" he said to himself. Nevertheless he carried out
his part of the program by stepping up to the door and knocking. This
time Mrs. Blossom opened it.
"Have you room for one more, Mrs. Blossom?" he said with an attempt at a
smile, but looking sadly wistful, so wistful and lonely that Mary
Blossom put out both hands without a word, and, somehow,--Jack, in
thinking it over afterwards, never could tell how it happened so
naturally--he was giving her a son's greeting, and receiving a mother's
kiss in return.
In a moment Hazel's arms were around his neck;--"Oh, Jack, Jack! I 've
got three of my own now; I 'm almost as rich as Rose!"
Rose, hearing her name, came forward with frank, cordial greeting, and
May transferred her demonstrations of affection from the Doctor's
trousers to Jack's; Cherry's curls bobbed and quivered with excitement
when Jack claimed a kiss from "Little Sunbonnet," and received two
hearty smacks in return; March took his travelling bag; Budd kept close
beside him, and the puppy, who had been christened Tell, nosed his hand,
and, sitting down on his haunches, pawed the air frantically until Jack
shook hands with him, too.
By this time the wistful look had disappeared from Jack's eyes, and his
handsome face was filled with such a glad light that the Doctor noticed
it at once. He shook his head dubiously, with his eyebrows drawn
together in a straight line over the bridge of his nose, and, from
underneath, his keen eyes glanced from Jack to Rose and from Rose back
again to Jack. Then his face cleared, and explanations were in order.
"Why, you see," the Doctor said to Mrs. Blossom, "my wife had to go
South with her sister, and could not be at home for Christmas--the first
we 've missed celebrating together since we were married--and when I
found John was coming up to spend it with you, I couldn't resist giving
myself this one good time. But Jack here has failed to give any
satisfactory account of how or why he came to intrude his long person
just at this festive time. I thought you were off at a Lenox house-party
with the Seatons?" he said, quizzically.
Jack laughed good-naturedly. "I don't blame you for wondering at my
being here; but I've been here before," he said, willing to pay back the
Doctor in his own coin.
"The deuce you have!" exclaimed the Doctor. "I say, Johnny, are we
growing old that these young people get ahead of us so easily?"
"I don't know how you feel, Dick, but I 'm as young as Jack to-night."
"That 's right, Papa Clyde," said Hazel, approvingly, softly patting her
father on the head; "and, Jack, you 're a dear to come up here to see
us, for you 've just as much right as the Doctor."
The Doctor pretended to grumble:--"Come to see you, indeed, you superior
young woman--_you_ indeed! As if there weren't any other girls in the
world or on Mount Hunger but you and Rose--much you know about it."
"Well, I 'd like to know who you came to see, if not us?" laughed Hazel,
sure of her ultimate triumph.
"Why, my dear Ruth Ford, to be sure."
"Ruth Ford!" they exclaimed in amazement.
"Why not Ruth Ford? You did n't suppose I would come away up here into
the wilds of Vermont in the dead of winter, did you? just to see--"
But Hazel laid her hand on his mouth.
"Stop teasing, do," she pleaded, "and tell us how you knew our Ruth."
"_Our_ Ruth! Ye men of York, hear her!" said the Doctor, appealing to
Mr. Clyde and Jack. "The next thing will be 'our Alan Ford,' I suppose.
How will you like that, Jack?"
"I feel like saying 'confound him,' only it would n't be polite. You
see, Doctor, I thought I had preempted the whole Mountain, and was
prepared to make a conquest of Miss Maria-Ann Simmons even; but if Mr.
Ford has stepped in"--Jack assumed a tragic air--"there is nothing left
for me in honor, but to throw down the gauntlet and challenge him to
single combat--hockey-sticks and hot lemonade--for her fair hand."
At the mention of Maria-Ann, Rose and Hazel, Budd and Cherry and March
went off into fits of laughter. They laughed so immoderately that it
proved infectious for their elders, and when Chi entered the room Budd
cried out, "Oh, Chi, you tell about the--we can't--the rooster and the
hoods, and--Oh my eye!--" Budd was apparently on the verge of
convulsions.
"I stuffed snow into my mouth and made my teeth ache so as not to laugh
out loud," said Cherry; at which there was another shout, and still
another outburst at the table when Chi described the scene in the
hen-house.
"Now, children," said Mrs. Blossom, after the somewhat hilarious evening
meal was over, the table cleared, the dishes were wiped and put away,
"we 're going to do just for this once as you want us to--hang up our
stockings; but I want all of you to hang up yours, too. If you don't, I
shall miss the sixes and sevens and eights so, that it will spoil my
Christmas."
"We will, Martie," they assented, joyfully; for, as March said, it would
not seem like night before Christmas if they did not hang up their
stockings.
"Yes, and papa, and you," said Hazel, turning to the Doctor, "must hang
up yours, and you, too, Jack."
"Why, of course," said Mrs. Blossom, "everybody is to hang up a stocking
to-night, even Tell."
"Oh, Martie, how funny!" cried Cherry, "but he has n't a truly
stocking."
"No, but one of Budd's will do for his huge paw--won't it, old fellow?"
she said, patting his great head.
Then Budd must needs bring out a pair of his pedal coverings and try one
brown woollen one on Tell, much to his majesty's surprise; for Tell was
a most dignified youth of a dog, as became his nine months and his
famous breed.
Early in the evening the stockings were hung up over the fireplace, all
sizes and all colors:--May's little red one and Chi's coarse blue one;
Mr. Clyde's of thick silk, and Budd's and Tell's of woollen; Hazel's of
black cashmere beside Jack's striped Balbriggan. What an array!
Then Mrs. Blossom and May went off into the bedroom, and Mr. Blossom and
his guests were forced to smoke their after-tea cigars in the guest
bedroom upstairs, while the young people brought out their treasures and
stuffed the grown-up stockings till they were painfully distorted.
"Don't they look lovely!" whispered Hazel, ecstatically to March, who
begged Rose to get another of their mother's stockings, for the one
proved insufficient for the fascinating little packages that were
labelled for her.
"Let's go right to bed now," suggested Budd, "then mother 'll fill
ours--Oh, I forgot," he added, ruefully, "we are n't going to have
presents this year--"
"Why, yes, we are, too, Budd," said Rose, "we 're going to give one
another out of our own money."
"Cracky! I forgot all about that--" Budd tore upstairs in the dark,
and tore down again and into the bedroom, crying:--"Now all shut your
eyes while I 'm going through!" which they did most conscientiously.
Soon they, too, were invited laughingly to retire, and by half-past ten
the house was quiet.
"'TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS, AND ALL THROUGH THE HOUSE,
NOT A CREATURE WAS STIRRING, NOT EVEN A MOUSE;"
Stretched out on the hearth-rug lay Tell snoring loudly,
And above from the mantel the stockings hung proudly;
When down from the stairway there came such a patter
Of stockingless feet--'t was no laughing matter!
As the good Doctor thought, for he sprang out of bed
To see if 't were real, or a dream iii its stead.
But no! with his eye at a crack of the door
He discovered the truth--'t was the Blossoms, all four,
With Hazel to aid them, tiptoeing about
Like a party of ghosts grown a little too stout.
They pinched and they fingered; they poked and they squeezed
Each plump Christmas stocking--then somebody sneezed!
Consternation and terror!! The tall clock struck one
As the ghosts disappeared on the double-quick run!
"'T WAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS, AND ALL THROUGH THE HOUSE,
NOT A CREATURE WAS STIRRING, NOT EVEN A MOUSE;"
Without in the moonlight, the snow sparkled bright;
The Mountain stood wrapped in a mantle of white,
With a crown of dark firs on his noble old crest
And ermine and diamonds adorning his breast;
And the stars that above him swung true into line
Once shone o'er a manger in far Palestine.
What a Christmas morning that was!
Chi was up at five o'clock, building roaring fires, for it was ten
degrees below zero.
With the first glint of the sun on the frosted panes the household was
astir. At precisely seven the order was given to take down the thirteen
stockings. But bless you! You 're not to think the stockings could
hold all the gifts. In front of each wide jamb were piled the bundles
and packages, three feet high!
Rose hesitated a moment when the children sat down on the rug with their
stockings, as was their custom every Christmas morn; then she plumped
down among them, saying, laughingly:
"I don't care if I _am_ growing up, Martie--it's Christmas."
Upon which Jack, hugging his striped Balbriggan, sat down beside her.
Such "Ohs" and "Ahs"! Such thankings and squeezings! Such somersaults
as were turned by March and Budd at the kitchen end of the long-room!
Such rapturous gurgles from May! Such hand-shakes and kisses! Such
silent bliss on the part of Chi, who, though suffering as if in a
Turkish bath, had donned his new, blue woollen sweater, drawn on his
gauntleted beaver gloves, and proceeded to investigate his stocking with
the air of a man who has nothing more to wish for. And through all the
chaotic happiness a sentence could be distinguished now and then.
"Chi, these corn-cob pipes are just what I shall want after Christmas
when I give my Junior Smoker."
"Oh, Martie, it can't be for me!" as the lovely white serge dress, ready
made and trimmed with lace, was held up to Rose's admiring eyes.
Budd was caressing with approving fingers a regular "base-ball-nine" bat
and admiring the white leather balls.
"I say, it's a stunner, Mr. Sherrill; but how did you know I wanted it?"
Mr. Clyde, who was touched to his very heart's core by Hazel's gift of a
dollar pair of suspenders which she had earned by her own labor, felt a
small hand slipped into his, and found Cherry Bounce looking up at him
with wide, adoring, brown eyes, which, for the first time, she had taken
from her beautiful Emilie Angelique, whom she held pressed to her
heart:--
"I want to whisper to you," she said, shyly. Mr. Clyde bent down to
her;--"After I said my prayers to Martie, I asked God to give me Emilie
Angelique--every night," she nodded--"but I only told Budd, so how _did_
you know?"
March was lost to the world in his volume of foreign photographs, in his
boxes of paints and brushes, and a whole set of drawing materials. He
had not as yet thanked Hazel for them.
Everybody was happy and satisfied. Everybody said he or she had
received just exactly the thing. Tell alone could not express his
gratification in words. He had been given his woollen stocking, and
nosed about till he had brought forth three fat dog-biscuit, a
deliciously juicy-greasy beef bone, wrapped in white waxed paper and
tied at one end with a blue ribbon, a fine nickelplated dog collar with
a bell attached, and last, from the brown woollen toe, three lumps of
sugar.
One by one he took the gifts and laid them down at Mrs. Blossom's feet;
putting one huge paw firmly on the waxed-paper package, he waved the
other wildly until she took it and spoke a loving word to him. Then,
taking up his beloved bone, he retired with it to the farthest end of
the long-room, under the kitchen sink, and licked it in peace and joy.
Jack and Chi in the joyful confusion had slipped from the room.
Soon there was a commotion in the woodshed, and the two made their
appearance dragging after them a brand-new double-runner and a real
Canadian toboggan, which Jack had ordered from Montreal for March.
Breakfast proved to be a short meal, for the whole family was wild to
try the new toboggan with Jack to engineer it. Then it was up and
down--down and up the steep mountain road; Jack and Doctor Heath, Mr.
Clyde, Mr. Blossom and Chi, all on together--clinging for dear life,
laughing, whooping, panting, hurrahing like boys let out from school,
while March and Budd and Rose and Hazel and Cherry flew after them on
the double-runner, the keen air biting rose-red cheeks, and bringing the
stinging water to the eyes.
But what sport it was!
"Now, this is something like," panted Jack, drawing up the hill with
Chi, his handsome face aglow with life and joy.
"By George Washin'ton! it's the nearest thing to shootin' Niagary that I
ever come," puffed Chi.
"Didn't we take that water-bar neatly?" laughed Jack.
"'N inch higher, 'n' we 'd all been goners;--I had n't a minute to think
of it, goin' to the rate of a mile a minute; but if I had--I 'd have
dusted! Guess I 'll make it level before I try it with the
children,--'n' I want you to know there 's no coward about me, but I 'm
just speakin' six for myself this time."
So the morning sped. Even Mrs. Blossom and May were taken down once,
and the Doctor stopped only because he wanted to make a morning call on
his patient, Ruth Ford; for it was by his advice the family had come to
live for three years in this mountain region.
The horn for the mid-day meal sounded down the Mountain before they had
thought of finishing the exciting sport, and one and all brought such
keen appetites to the Christmas dinner, that Mrs. Blossom declared
laughingly that she would give them no supper, for they had eaten the
pantry shelves bare.
Such roast goose and barberry jam! Such a noble plum-pudding set in the
midst of Maria-Ann's best wreath, for she and Aunt Tryphosa had sent
over their simple gifts by an early teamster. Such red Northern Spies
and winter russet pears! And such mirth and shouts and jests and quips
to accompany each course!
It was genuine New England Christmas cheer, and the healths were drunk
in the wine of the apple amid great applause, especially Doctor Heath's:
"Health, peace, and long life to the Lost Nation--May its tribe
increase!"
And how they laughed at Chi, when he proposed the health of the Prize
Chicken (which, by the way, he had kept for the next season's mascot,)
and recounted the episode in the barn.
What shouts greeted Budd, who, rising with great gravity, his mouth
puckered into real, not mock, seriousness--and that was the comical part
of it all--said earnestly:
"To my first wife!" and sat down rather red, but gratified not only by
the prolonged applause, but by the enthusiasm with which they drank to
this unexpected toast from his unsentimental self.
Directly after dinner Mr. Clyde declared that a seven-mile walk was an
actual necessity for him in his present condition, and invited all who
would to accompany him to call in state on Mrs. Tryphosa Little and Miss
Maria-Ann Simmons. Only Doctor Heath and Jack went with him, for Mr.
Blossom and Chi had matters to attend to at home, and Rose and Cherry
and Hazel were needed to help Mrs. Blossom. Even March and Budd turned
to and wiped dishes.
"I 'll set the table now, Martie," said Rose, "then there will be no
confusion to-night--there are so many of us."
"No need for that to-night, children," replied Mrs. Blossom, with a
merry smile. "'The last is the best of all the rest,' for we were all
invited a week ago to take tea and spend Christmas evening at
Hunger-ford."
"Oh, Martie!" A joyful shout went up from the six, that was followed by
jigs and double-shuffles, pas-seuls and fancy steps, in which
dish-towels were waved wildly, and tin pans were pounded instead of
wiped.
When the din had somewhat subsided there were numberless questions
asked; by the time they were all answered, and Rose and Hazel had donned
their white serge dresses, the gentlemen had returned from their walk,
and it was time to go.
"That's why Mrs. Ford had us learn all those songs," said Rose to Hazel.
"Don't forget to take your violin."
A merrier Christmas party never set forth on a straw-ride. Mr. and Mrs.
Blossom and May went over in the sleigh, but the rest piled into the
apple-green pung, and when they came in sight of the seven-gabled-house,
a rousing three times three, mingling with the sound of the
sleigh-bells, greeted the pretty sight.
Every window was illumined, and adorned with a Christmas wreath. In the
light of the rising moon, then at the full, the snow that covered the
roof sparkled like frosted silver. The house, with its background of
sharply sloping hill wooded with spruce and pine, its twinkling lights
and the surrounding white expanse, looked like an illuminated Christmas
card.
Within, the hall was festooned with ground hemlock and holly; a roaring
fire of hickory logs furnished light and to spare. In the living-room
and dining-room, Mr. Clyde and Jack Sherrill found, to their amazement,
all the elegance and refinement of a city home combined with country
simplicity. The tea-table shone with the service of silver and sparkled
with the many-faceted crystal of glass and carafe. For decoration, the
rich red of the holly berries gleamed among the dark green gloss of
their leaves.
At first, the younger members of the Blossom family felt constrained and
a little awed in such surroundings; for although they had been several
times in the house, they had never taken tea there. But the Fords and
the other city people soon put them at their ease, and, as Cherry
declared afterwards, "It was like eating in a fairy story." There was a
real pigeon pie at one end and a Virginia ham at the other, as well as
cold, roast duck with gooseberry jam. There were sparkling jellies, and
the whole family of tea-cakes--orange, cocoanut, sponge, and chocolate;
and, oh, bliss!--strawberry ice-cream in a nest of spun cinnamon candy,
followed by Malaga grapes and hot chocolate topped with a whip of cream.
After tea there was the surprise of a beautiful Christmas Tree in the
library. Ruth Ford had occupied many a weary hour in making the
decorations--roses and lilies fashioned from tissue paper to closely
copy nature; gilded walnuts; painted paper butterflies; pink sugar
hearts, and cornucopias of gilt and silver paper, in each of which was a
bunch of real flowers--roses, violets, carnations, and daisies, ordered
by Jack Sherrill from New York. On the topmost branch, there was a
waxen Christ-child. The tree was lighted by dozens of tiny colored
candles. When the door was opened from the living-room, and the
children caught sight of the wonderful tree, they held their breath and
whispered to one another.
But more lovely than the tree in the eyes of the older people were the
radiant faces of the young people and the children. Rose, with clasped
hands, stood gazing up at the Christ-child that crowned the glowing,
glittering mass of dark green. She was wholly unconscious of the many
pairs of eyes that rested upon her in love and admiration. There was
nothing so beautiful in the whole room as the young girl standing there
with earnest blue eyes, raised reverently to the little waxen figure.
Her lips were parted in a half smile; a flush of excitement was on her
cheeks; the white dress set off the exquisite fairness of her skin; the
shining crown of golden-brown hair, that hung in a heavy braid to within
a foot of the hem of her gown, caught the soft lights above her and
formed almost a halo about the face.
Suddenly there was a burst of admiration from the children, and, under
cover of it, Doctor Heath turned to Mr. Clyde, who was standing beside
him:--
"By heavens, John! That girl is too beautiful; she will make some
hearts ache before she is many years older, as well as your own
Hazel--look at _her_ now!"
The father's eyes rested lovingly, but thoughtfully, on the graceful
little figure that was busy distributing the cornucopias with their
fragrant contents. Yes, she, too, was beautiful, giving promise of
still greater beauty. He turned to the Doctor and held out his hand:--
"Richard, I have to thank you for this transformation."
"No--not me," said the Doctor, earnestly, "but," pointing to Mrs.
Blossom, "that woman there, John. Hazel needed the mother-love, just as
much as Jack does at this moment."
Jack had turned away when the Doctor began to speak of Rose, and,
joining her, said, "Won't you wear one of my roses just to-night, Miss
Blossom?"
"Your roses! Why, did you give us all those lovely flowers?"
"Yes, I wanted to contribute my share, and flowers seemed the most
appropriate offering just for to-night."
"They 're lovely," said Rose, caressing the exquisite petals of a La
France beauty. "Of course I 'll wear one--" she tucked one into her
belt; "but why--why!--has n't anyone else roses?" She looked about
inquiringly.
"No,--the roses were for their namesake," said Jack, quietly.
Rose laughed merrily,--a pleased, girlish laugh. "Then won't the giver
of the roses call their namesake, 'Rose'?--for the sake of the roses?"
she added mischievously.
Now Jack Sherrill had seen many girls--silly girls, flirty girls,
sensible girls, charming girls, smart girls, nice girls, and horrid
girls, and flattered himself he knew every species of the genus, but
just this once he was puzzled. If Rose Blossom had been an arrant flirt,
she could not have answered him more effectively; yet Jack had decided
that she had too earnest a nature to descend to flirting. Somehow, that
word could never be applied to Rose Blossom--"My Rose," he said to
himself, and knew with a kind of a shock when he said it, that he was
very far gone. But in the next breath, he had to confess to himself
that he had "been very far gone" many a time in his twenty-one years, so
perhaps it did not signify.
Indeed, in the next minute, he was sure it did not signify, for, before
he could gather his wits sufficiently to reply to her, Rose had slipped
away to the other side of the room, where she was busying herself in
fastening one of Jack's roses into the buttonhole of Alan Ford's Tuxedo.
In consequence of which, Jack turned his batteries upon Ruth Ford with
such effect, that she declared afterwards to her mother he was one of
the most fascinating _young_ men--for Ruth was twenty-one!--she had ever
met.
Mrs. Ford and Hazel and Mr. Ford had done their best to persuade Chi to
remain with them for the tree. Even Rose urged--but in vain. True, the
girls had insisted upon his taking one look, then he had begged off,
saying, as he patted Hazel's hand that lay on his arm:
"Not to-night, Lady-bird. I don't feel to home in there. I 'll sit out
here and hear the music, then I can beat time with my foot if I want
to." He remained in the hall, just outside the living-room door,
enjoying all he heard.
First there was a lovely piano duet, an Hungarian waltz by Brahms, Mrs.
Ford and the grave, quiet son playing with such a perfect understanding
of each other, as well as of the music, that it proved a delight to all
present. Then there was a carol by all the children, Rose leading, and
Mrs. Ford playing the accompaniment:
"'Cheery old Winter! merry old Winter!
Laugh, while with yule-wreath thy temples are bound;
Drain the spiced bowl now, cheer thy old soul now,
"Christmas _waes hael_!" pledge the holy toast round.
Broach butt and barrel, with dance and with carol
Crown we old Winter of revels the king;
And when he is weary of living so merry,
He 'll lie down and die on the green lap of Spring.
Cheery old Winter! merry old Winter!
He 'll lie down and die on the green lap of Spring!'"
This won great applause, and a loud thumping could be heard in the hall.
Jack went out to try his powers of persuasion with Chi, and found him
sitting close to the door with one knee over the other and a La France
rose (!) in his buttonhole.
"Come in, Chi, do."
"Ruther 'd sit here."
"Oh, come on."
"Nope."
Jack laughed at the decided tone. "Where did you get this?" he asked,
touching the boutonniere.
"Rose-pose," answered Chi, laconically, but with a happy smile.
"Out of her bunch?"
"Nope--took it out of her belt," said Chi, with a curious twist of his
mouth.
Jack went back crestfallen, and Chi smiled.
"I 'm afraid I cut him out, just for once; kind of rough on him, but 't
won't hurt him any to have a change. He 's had his own way a little too
much," said Chi to himself.
Again there was music, a Schubert serenade, with the two violins, and
after that, the children begged Hazel to dance the Highland Fling as she
did once in the barn. Hazel, nothing loath, borrowed a blue Liberty-silk
scarf from Ruth Ford; the rugs being removed and Alan Ford tuning his
violin, she made her curtsy, and, entering heart and body into the
spirit of the thing, danced like thistle-down shod with joyousness.
It was a pretty sight! and Chi edged into the room, while the company
made believe ignore him in order to induce him to remain there; but when
the singing began, he slipped out again. Such singing! Everybody
joined in it. They sang everything;--"Oh, where, tell me where, is your
Highland laddie gone?";--"Star-spangled Banner";--"Marching
Along";--"John Anderson, my Jo";--"Ye banks and braes o' Bonnie
Doon";--"Twinkle, twinkle, little star";--"Annie Laurie";--"A
grasshopper sat on a sweet-potato vine";--"Ben Bolt";--"Fair Harvard"
and, finally, "Old Hundred."
It had been arranged that Mr. Blossom should take his wife and the
younger children home in the pung; the rest were to walk. Chi,
meanwhile, had driven home in the single sleigh.
On the walk home Jack tried what he had been apt to term--of course, to
himself--his "confidential scheme" with Rose. He had tried it before
with many another, and it had never failed to work. The thought of one
of his roses in Alan Ford's buttonhole still rankled, and the best side
of Jack's manhood was not on the surface when he entered upon the
homeward walk.
"Miss Blossom,"--somehow Jack had not quite the courage to say "Rose,"
although he had been so frankly invited to--"I want to tell you why I
came up here; it must have seemed almost an intrusion."
[Illustration: "'I want to tell you why I came up here'"]
"Oh, no, indeed," said Rose, earnestly, "and I know why you came; Hazel
told me."
"Oh, she did," said Jack, rather inanely, and a little uncertain as to
his footing, figuratively speaking; for he had given her the chance to
ask "Why?"--and she had n't taken it; in which she proved herself
different from all those other girls of his acquaintance. To himself he
thought, "Well, for all the cordial indifference, commend me to this
girl."
"Yes, I 'm sure it would have seemed like anything but Christmas to you
in New York with your father in Europe; you must miss him so."
Jack felt himself blush in the moonlight at the remembrance that he had
seen his father but little in the last three years, and did not know
what it was in reality to miss him. He never remembered to have missed
anything or anybody but his mother, and that indefinite something in his
life which he had not yet put himself earnestly to seek.
"I suppose you 'll be shocked, Miss Blossom, but I don't really miss my
father. I 'm only awfully glad to see him when I get the chance--which
is n't often. He 's such a busy man with railroads and syndicates and
real estate interests. I wonder often how he can find time to write me
even twice a month, which he has done regularly ever since--" he stopped
abruptly.
"Since what?" asked Rose, innocently.
"Since my mother died," said Jack, in a hard, dry voice that served to
cover his feeling.
"Yes," Rose nodded sympathetically, "Hazel told me." Then--for Rose's
love for her own mother was something bordering on adoration--she said
softly, under her breath, but with her whole heart in her voice; "Oh, I
don't see how you could bear it--how you can live without her!"
"I don't," Jack replied with a break in his voice, "not really live, you
know. I've always felt it, but never realized it until last night, when
I stood out on the veranda and looked in at the window at you--all.
Then I knew I 'd been hungry for that sort of thing for the last seven
years--"
Now Rose's heart was swelling with pity for the loneliness of the tall,
young fellow swinging along beside her, and at once her inner eyes were
opened to see a, to her, startling fact. She turned suddenly towards
him.
"Is that why you kissed Martie last night, and came up here to us?" she
demanded rather breathlessly.
"Yes;" Jack had forgotten his scheme, and was in dead earnest now.
"Then," cried Rose, impulsively--but at the same time thinking, "I don't
care if he is engaged to that Miss Seaton"--"I hope you 'll come to us
whenever you feel like it; for," she added earnestly, "I 'm beginning to
understand what Chi means when he talks about Hazel's being poor and our
being rich, and--and I 'd love to share mine with you."
"You 're awfully good," said Jack, rather awkwardly for him; for,
suddenly, in the presence of this young girl, as yet unspoiled by the
world, he realized that Life was dependent upon something other than
polo and club theatricals, railroad syndicates and Newport casinos,
stocks and bonds and marketable real estate.
Jack was young, and the moonlight was transfiguring the face that,
framed in a white, knitted hood, was turned towards him full of a frank,
loving sympathy for him in his "poverty."---And, seeing it, Jack
suddenly braced himself as if to meet some shock, thinking, as he strode
along in silence, "Oh, I 'm gone!--for good and all this time."
Rose, a little surprised at the prolonged silence, welcomed the sound of
sleigh-bells behind them.
"Why, that's Chi!" she exclaimed. "I thought he was at home long before
this. I 'm sure he left long before we did. Where have you been, Chi?"
she called so soon as the sleigh was within hailing distance.
"I 've been Chris'musin'," said Chi. "It ain't often you get just such
a night on the Mountain as this, and I 've made the most of it. Can I
give you a lift?"
"No, thank you, Chi, we 're almost home," said Rose.
"Well, then I 'd better be gettin' along--it's pretty near
midnight--chk, Bob--" And Chi drove away down the Mountain, chuckling
to himself:
"Ain't a-goin' to give myself away before no city chap that has cut me
out as he has. George Washin'ton! When I peeked into the window 'n' saw
Marier-Ann sittin' there in front of that kitchen table with all those
presents on it, 'n' the little spruce set up so perky in the middle of
'em, 'n' she a-wearin' a great handful of those red, spice pinks in her
bosom, 'n' her cheeks to match 'em, 'n' her eyes a-shinin'--I knew he 'd
come it over me; he 'd made the first call, 'n' given her the first
posies. Guess I won't crow over him after this." Chi undid his
greatcoat, and bent his face until his nose rested upon Jack's rose:--
"It ain't touched yet, but it's a stinger; must be twenty below, now."
Suddenly Chi gave a loud exclamation: "I must be a fool!--I 've broken
one of the N.B.B.O.O. rules not to be afraid of anything, and did n't
dare to give my posy to Marier-Ann!--Anyhow, she don't know I was goin'
to give it to her, so I need n't feel so cheap about it--Go-long, Bob!"