It was a small room, with nothing in it but a bed, two chairs, and a big
chest. A few little gowns hung on the wall, and the only picture was the
wintry sky, sparkling with stars, framed by the uncurtained window. But
the moon, pausing to peep, saw something pretty and heard something
pleasant. Two heads in little round night-caps lay on one pillow, two
pairs of wide-awake blue eyes stared up at the light, and two tongues
were going like mill clappers.
"I'm so glad we got our shirts done in time! It seemed as if we never
should, and I don't think six cents is half enough for a great red
flannel thing with three buttonholes--do you?" said one little voice,
rather wearily.
"No; but then we each made four, and fifty cents is a good deal of
money. Are you sorry we didn't keep our quarters for ourselves?" asked
the other voice, with an under-tone of regret in it.
"Yes, I am, till I think how pleased the children will be with our tree,
for they don't expect anything, and will be so surprised. I wish we had
more toys to put on it, for it looks so small and mean with only three
or four things."
"It won't hold any more, so I wouldn't worry about it. The toys are very
red and yellow, and I guess the babies won't know how cheap they are,
but like them as much as if they cost heaps of money."
This was a cheery voice, and as it spoke the four blue eyes turned
toward the chest under the window, and the kind moon did her best to
light up the tiny tree standing there. A very pitiful little tree it
was--only a branch of hemlock in an old flower-pot, propped up with bits
of coal, and hung with a few penny toys earned by the patient fingers of
the elder sisters, that the little ones should not be disappointed.
[Illustration]
But in spite of the magical moonlight the broken branch, with its scanty
supply of fruit, looked pathetically poor, and one pair of eyes filled
slowly with tears, while the other pair lost their happy look, as if a
cloud had come over the sunshine.
"Are you crying, Dolly?"
"Not much, Polly."
"What makes you, dear?"
"I didn't know how poor we were till I saw the tree, and then I couldn't
help it," sobbed the elder sister, for at twelve she already knew
something of the cares of poverty, and missed the happiness that seemed
to vanish out of all their lives when father died.
"It's dreadful. I never thought we'd have to earn our tree, and only be
able to get a broken branch, after all, with nothing on it but three
sticks of candy, two squeaking dogs, a red cow, and an ugly bird with
one feather in its tail;" and overcome by a sudden sense of destitution,
Polly sobbed even more despairingly than Dolly.
"Hush, dear; we must cry softly, or mother will hear, and come up, and
then we shall have to tell. You know we said we wouldn't seem to mind
not having any Christmas, she felt so sorry about it."
"I must cry, but I'll be quiet."
So the two heads went under the pillow for a few minutes, and not a
sound betrayed them as the little sisters cried softly in one another's
arms, lest mother should discover that they were no longer careless
children, but brave young creatures trying to bear their share of the
burden cheerfully.
When the shower was over, the faces came out shining like roses after
rain, and the voices went on again as before.
"Don't you wish there really was a Santa Claus, who knew what we wanted,
and would come and put two silver half-dollars in our stockings, so we
could go and see _Puss in Boots_ at the Museum to-morrow afternoon?"
"Yes, indeed; but we didn't hang up any stockings, you know, because
mother had nothing to put in them. It does seem as if rich people might
think of poor people now and then. Such little bits of things would make
us happy, and it couldn't be much trouble to take two small girls to the
play, and give them candy now and then."
"_I_ shall when I'm rich, like Mr. Chrome and Miss Kent. I shall go
round every Christmas with a big basket of goodies, and give _all_ the
poor children some."
"P'r'aps if we sew ever so many flannel shirts we may be rich by-and-by.
I should give mother a new bonnet first of all, for I heard Miss Kent
say no lady would wear such a shabby one. Mrs. Smith said fine bonnets
didn't make real ladies. I like her best, but I do want a locket like
Miss Kent's."
"I should give mother some new rubbers, and then I should buy a white
apron, with frills like Miss Kent's, and bring home nice bunches of
grapes and good things to eat, as Mr. Chrome does. I often smell them,
but he never gives _me_ any; he only says, 'Hullo, chick!' and I'd
rather have oranges any time."
"It will take us a long while to get rich, I'm afraid. It makes me tired
to think of it. I guess we'd better go to sleep now, dear."
"Good-night, Dolly."
"Good-night, Polly."
Two soft kisses were heard, a nestling sound followed, and presently the
little sisters lay fast asleep, cheek against cheek, on the pillow wet
with their tears, never dreaming what was going to happen to them
to-morrow.
Now Miss Kent's room was next to theirs, and as she sat sewing she could
hear the children's talk, for they soon forgot to whisper. At first she
smiled, then she looked sober, and when the prattle ceased she said to
herself, as she glanced about her pleasant chamber:
"Poor little things! they think I'm rich, and envy me, when I'm only a
milliner earning my living. I ought to have taken more notice of them,
for their mother has a hard time, I fancy, but never complains. I'm
sorry they heard what I said, and if I knew how to do it without
offending her, I'd trim a nice bonnet for a Christmas gift, for she _is_
a lady, in spite of her old clothes. I can give the children some of the
things they want anyhow, and I will. The idea of those mites making a
fortune out of shirts at six cents apiece!"
Miss Kent laughed at the innocent delusion, but sympathized with her
little neighbors, for she knew all about hard times. She had good wages
now, but spent them on herself, and liked to be fine rather than neat.
Still, she was a good-hearted girl, and what she had overheard set her
to thinking soberly, then to acting kindly, as we shall see.
"If I hadn't spent all my money on my dress for the party to-morrow
night, I'd give each of them a half-dollar. As I can not, I'll hunt up
the other things they wanted, for it's a shame they shouldn't have a bit
of Christmas, when they tried so hard to please the little ones."
As she spoke she stirred about her room, and soon had a white apron, an
old carnelian heart on a fresh blue ribbon, and two papers of bonbons
ready. As no stockings were hung up, she laid a clean towel on the floor
before the door, and spread forth the small gifts to look their best.
Miss Kent was so busy that she did not hear a step come quietly up
stairs, and Mr. Chrome, the artist, peeped at her through the balusters,
wondering what she was about. He soon saw, and watched her with
pleasure, thinking that she never looked prettier than now.
[Illustration]
Presently she caught him at it, and hastened to explain, telling what
she had heard, and how she was trying to atone for her past neglect of
these young neighbors. Then she said good-night, and both went into
their rooms, she to sleep happily, and he to smoke as usual.
But his eye kept turning to some of the "nice little bundles" that lay
on his table, as if the story he had heard suggested how he might follow
Miss Kent's example. I rather think he would not have disturbed himself
if he had not heard the story told in such a soft voice, with a pair of
bright eyes full of pity looking into his, for little girls were not
particularly interesting to him, and he was usually too tired to notice
the industrious creatures toiling up and down stairs on various errands,
or sewing at the long red seams.
Now that he knew something of their small troubles, he felt as if it
would please Miss Kent, and be a good joke, to do his share of the
pretty work she had begun.
So presently he jumped up, and, opening his parcels, took out two
oranges and two bunches of grapes, then he looked up two silver
half-dollars, and stealing into the hall, laid the fruit upon the towel,
and the money atop of the oranges. This addition improved the display
very much, and Mr. Chrome was stealing back, well pleased, when his eye
fell on Miss Kent's door, and he said to himself, "She too shall have a
little surprise, for she is a dear, kind-hearted soul."
In his room was a prettily painted plate, and this he filled with green
and purple grapes, tucked a sentimental note underneath, and leaving it
on her threshold, crept away as stealthily as a burglar.
The house was very quiet when Mrs. Smith, the landlady, came up to turn
off the gas. "Well, upon my word, here's fine doings, to be sure!" she
said, when she saw the state of the upper hall. "Now I wouldn't have
thought it of Miss Kent, she is such a giddy girl, nor of Mr. Chrome, he
is so busy with his own affairs. I meant to give those children each a
cake to-morrow, they are such good little things. I'll run down and get
them now, as my contribution to this fine set out."
Away trotted Mrs. Smith to her pantry, and picked out a couple of
tempting cakes, shaped like hearts and full of plums. There was a goodly
array of pies on the shelves, and she took two of them, saying, as she
climbed the stairs again, "They remembered the children, so I'll
remember them, and have my share of the fun."
So up went the pies, for Mrs. Smith had not much to give, and her spirit
was generous, though her pastry was not of the best. It looked very
droll to see pies sitting about on the thresholds of closed doors, but
the cakes were quite elegant, and filled up the corners of the towel
handsomely, for the apron lay in the middle, with the oranges right and
left, like two sentinels in yellow uniforms.
It was very late when the flicker of a candle came up stairs, and a pale
lady, with a sweet sad face, appeared, bringing a pair of red and a pair
of blue mittens for her Dolly and Polly. Poor Mrs. Blake did have a hard
time, for she stood all day in a great store that she might earn bread
for the poor children who staid at home and took care of one another.
Her heart was very heavy that night, because it was the first Christmas
she had ever known without gifts and festivity of some sort. But Petkin,
the youngest child, had been ill, times were very hard, the little
mouths gaped for food like the bills of hungry birds, and there was no
tender mate to help fill them.
If any elves had been hovering about the dingy hall just then, they
would have seen the mother's tired face brighten beautifully when she
discovered the gifts, and found that her little girls had been so kindly
remembered. Something more brilliant than the mock diamonds in Miss
Kent's best ear-rings fell and glittered on the dusty floor as Mrs.
Blake added the mittens to the other things, and went to her lonely room
again, smiling as she thought how she could thank them all in a sweet
and simple way.
Her windows were full of flowers, for the delicate tastes of the poor
lady found great comfort in their beauty. "I have nothing else to give,
and these will show how grateful I am," she said, as she rejoiced that
the scarlet geraniums were so full of gay clusters, the white
chrysanthemum stars were all out, and the pink roses at their loveliest.
They slept now, dreaming of a sunny morrow as they sat safely sheltered
from the bitter cold. But that night was their last, for a gentle hand
cut them all, and soon three pretty nosegays stood in a glass, waiting
for dawn, to be laid at three doors, with a few grateful words which
would surprise and delight the receivers, for flowers were rare in those
hard-working lives, and kind deeds often come back to the givers in
fairer shapes than they go.
Now one would think that there had been gifts enough, and no more could
possibly arrive, since all had added his or her mite except Betsey, the
maid, who was off on a holiday, and the babies fast asleep in their
trundle-bed, with nothing to give but love and kisses. Nobody dreamed
that the old cat would take it into her head that her kittens were in
danger, because Mrs. Smith had said she thought they were nearly old
enough to be given away. But she must have understood, for when all was
dark and still the anxious mother went patting up stairs to the
children's door, meaning to hide her babies under their bed, sure they
would save them from destruction. Mrs. Blake had shut the door, however,
so poor Puss was disappointed; but finding a soft, clean spot among a
variety of curious articles, she laid her kits there, and kept them warm
all night, with her head pillowed on the blue mittens.
In the cold morning Dolly and Polly got up and scrambled into their
clothes, not with joyful haste to see what their stockings held, for
they had none, but because they had the little ones to dress while
mother got the breakfast.
[Illustration]
Dolly opened the door, and started back with a cry of astonishment at
the lovely spectacle before her. The other people had taken in their
gifts, so nothing destroyed the magnificent effect of the treasures so
curiously collected in the night. Puss had left her kits asleep, and
gone down to get her own breakfast, and there, in the middle of the
ruffled apron, as if in a dainty cradle, lay the two Maltese darlings,
with white bibs and boots on, and white tips to the tiny tails curled
round their little noses in the sweetest way.
Polly and Dolly could only clasp their hands and look in rapturous
silence for a minute; then they went down on their knees and revelled in
the unexpected richness before them.
"I do believe there _is_ a Santa Claus, and that he heard us, for here
is everything we wanted," said Dolly, holding the carnelian heart in one
hand and the plummy one in the other.
"It must have been some kind of a fairy, for we didn't mention kittens,
but we wanted one, and here are two darlings," cried Polly, almost
purring with delight as the downy bunches unrolled and gaped till their
bits of pink tongues were visible.
"Mrs. Smith was one fairy, I guess, and Miss Kent was another, for that
is her apron. I shouldn't wonder if Mr. Chrome gave us the oranges and
the money: men always have lots, and his name is on this bit of paper,"
said Dolly.
"Oh, I'm _so_ glad! Now we shall have a Christmas like other people, and
I'll never say again that rich folks don't remember poor folks. Come and
show all our treasures to mother and the babies; they must have some,"
answered Polly, feeling that the world was all right, and life not half
as hard as she thought it last night.
Shrieks of delight greeted the sisters, and all that morning there was
joy and feasting in Mrs. Blake's room, and in the afternoon Dolly and
Polly went to the Museum, and actually saw _Puss in Boots_; for their
mother insisted on their going, having discovered how the hard-earned
quarters had been spent. This was such unhoped-for bliss that they could
hardly believe it, and kept smiling at one another so brightly that
people wondered who the happy little girls in shabby cloaks could be who
clapped their new mittens so heartily, and laughed till it was better
than music to hear them.
This was a very remarkable Christmas-day, and they long remembered it;
for while they were absorbed in the fortunes of the Marquis of Carabas
and the funny cat, who tucked his tail in his belt, washed his face so
awkwardly, and didn't know how to purr, strange things were happening at
home, and more surprises were in store for our little friends. You see,
when people once begin to do kindnesses, it is so easy and pleasant they
find it hard to leave off; and sometimes it beautifies them so that they
find they love one another very much--as Mr. Chrome and Miss Kent did,
though we have nothing to do with that except to tell how they made the
poor little tree grow and blossom.
They were very jolly at dinner, and talked a good deal about the Blakes,
who ate in their own rooms. Miss Kent told what the children said, and
it touched the soft spot in all their hearts to hear about the red
shirts, though they laughed at Polly's lament over the bird with only
one feather in its tail.
"I'd give them a better tree if I had any place to put it, and knew how
to trim it up," said Mr. Chrome, with a sudden burst of generosity,
which so pleased Miss Kent that her eyes shone like Christmas candles,
and she said,
"Put it in the back parlor. All the Browns are away for a week, and
we'll help you trim it--won't we, my dear?" cried Mrs. Smith, warmly;
for she saw that he was in a sociable mood, and thought it a pity that
the Blakes should not profit by it.
"Yes, indeed; I should like it of all things, and it needn't cost much,
for I have some skill in trimmings, as you know." And Miss Kent looked
so gay and pretty as she spoke that Mr. Chrome made up his mind that
millinery must be a delightful occupation.
"Come on then, ladies, and we'll have a little frolic. I'm a lonely old
bachelor, with nowhere to go to-day, and I'd like some fun."
They had it, I assure you; for they all fell to work as busy as bees,
flying and buzzing about with much laughter as they worked their
pleasant miracle. Mr. Chrome acted more like the father of a large
family than a crusty bachelor, Miss Kent's skillful fingers flew as they
never did before, and Mrs. Smith trotted up and down as briskly as if
she were sixteen instead of being a stout old woman of sixty.
The children were so full of the play, and telling all about it, that
they forgot their tree till after supper; but when they went to look
for it they found it gone, and in its place a great paper hand with one
finger pointing down stairs, and on it these mysterious words in red
ink,
"Look in the Browns' back parlor!"
[Illustration]
At the door of that interesting apartment they found their mother with
Will and Petkin, for another hand had suddenly appeared to them pointing
up. The door flew open quite as if it was a fairy play, and they went in
to find a pretty tree planted in a red box on the centre table, lighted
with candles, hung with gilded nuts, red apples, gay bonbons, and a gift
for each.
Mr. Chrome was hidden behind one folding-door, and fat Mrs. Smith
squeezed behind the other, and they both thought it a great improvement
upon the old-fashioned Santa Claus to have Miss Kent, in the white dress
she made for the party, with Mrs. Blake's roses in her hair, step
forward as the children gazed in silent rapture, and with a few sweet
words welcome them to the little surprise their friends had made.
There were many Christmas trees in the city that night, but none which
gave such hearty pleasure as the one which so magically took the place
of the broken branch and its few poor toys. They were all there,
however, and Dolly and Polly were immensely pleased to see that of all
her gifts Petkin chose the forlorn bird to carry to bed with her, the
one yellow feather being just to her taste.
Mrs. Blake put on her neat bonnet, and was so gratified that Miss Kent
thought it the most successful one she ever trimmed.
She was well paid for it by the thanks of one neighbor and the
admiration of another; for when she went to her party Mr. Chrome went
with her, and said something on the way which made her heart dance more
lightly than her feet that night.
Good Mrs. Smith felt that her house had covered itself with glory by
this event, and Dolly and Polly declared that it was the most perfect
and delightful surprise party ever seen.
It was all over by nine o'clock, and with good-night kisses for every
one the little girls climbed up to bed laden with treasures and too
happy for many words. But as they tied their round caps Dolly said,
thoughtfully,
"On the whole I think it's rather nice to be poor when people are kind
to you."
"Well, I'd _rather_ be rich; but if I can't be, it is very good fun to
have Christmas trees like this one," answered truthful Polly, never
guessing that they had planted the seed from which the little pine-tree
grew so quickly and beautifully.
When the moon came to look in at the window on her nightly round two
smiling faces lay on the pillow, which was no longer wet with tears, but
rather knobby with the mine of riches hidden underneath--first-fruits of
the neighborly friendship which flourished in that house until another
and a merrier Christmas came.