CHRISTMAS ANTICIPATIONS

_Monday._

Already the air is full of Christmas talk and plans. Besides the great

tree here in our school for the entire neighborhood, the workers and

teachers expect to have seven or eight trees in other localities, thus

bringing brightness and cheer and the Christmas story into many sad and

colorless lives. I should have been glad to have a tree over on Trigger;

but a gathering there in the present state of feeling would be extremely

dangerous, and by Nucky's advice, I have abandoned the hope. "I'd like

to have you come over," he said; "but Trigger haint no place for women

or women's doings now."

Another excitement is the telephone just set up in our village,

connecting us with the railroad and the outside world.--All the boys

went down this afternoon to see and hear the marvel.

_Wednesday Morning._

I have begun teaching some of the beautiful old English carols to our

boys and girls,--it seems peculiarly fitting that these children of pure

English stock should sing the carols centuries ago upon the lips of

their ancestors. But the task is an uphill one with the boys,--they

refuse to take any interest in this or any other Christmas preparation.

When I reproached them to-night for their apathy, Philip said,

"Nothing here to take no interest in,--won't be no chance for no

Christmas doings till we git away from here."

"But there will be great Christmas doings," I said, "just the very best

that can be thought of."

"What,--you women aiming to lay in a store of liquor and do a lot of

shooting?" he asked, with dawning hope.

"Horrors, no!" I exclaimed.

"Them's the good times I allus seed a-Christmas."

"Me, too!" echoed the other eleven.

"Didn't you ever hang up your stocking, or have a tree or get presents?"

"Never heared tell of the like till I come here."

"But it's the greatest possible fun," I insisted.

"Fun enough for women, may be, but men,--gee!"

"Gimme a big jug of moonshine!" shouted Joab.

"And a galloping nag!" cried Nucky.

"And a pistol in both hands!" added Killis.

"Boys," I said, "is it possible you can be willing to spend the holy

season of Christmas in drinking and shooting?"

"Only way I ever heared of anybody spending it," said Philip;

"everybody does it. If there's ary boy here," he added, "that haint been

drunk, or tried to, every Christmas he can ricollect, hold up your

hand!"

Not a hand moved, till suddenly, as if by an afterthought, Killis's went

up. "I weren't last Christmas," he said; "when paw got shot and lay

a-dying, he told me never to drink another drap, and I haint toch it

sence."

"Mighty hard on you," remarked Joab; "I never pass a Christmas without

being drunk,--paw he gen'ally fills me'n Iry up till we can't see

single, and then makes us walk a crack in the floor, for fun."

"I allus used to swill all I could hold, from New Christmas to Old

Christmas," said Killis.

"I drink all I want and then ride around on Blant's nag and shoot off my

rifle," said Nucky.

"When I were a five-year-old," contributed Geordie, "my uncles give me a

pint of liquor, and then put a cocked pistol in my hand and p'inted it

at Absalom, and told me to shoot. I fired away,--good thing I weren't

sober, I'd a-kilt him sure!"

"The neighbors up the branch they invites us to their house and treats

us a-Christmas," said Hen; "but Keats he haint half a man,--I can drink

twict as much as him!"

"Self-brag is half-scandal," exclaimed Keats, angrily; "it's because

I've had white swelling and typhoid I can't drink as much as you, you

sorry little scald-pate!"

"Paw and me got so drunk last Christmas we couldn't roll over in bed,"

piped up Jason.

Taulbee, the great stickler for propriety, summed up the matter

authoritatively: "Folks would think they was bad off if they couldn't

pass around a jug of liquor a-Christmas," he said; "they would feel like

it weren't showing hospitality."

When I remember that this was the idea of the entire Christian world

less than a century ago, I cannot be too severe upon my boys,

distressing as these conditions are.

Killis spoke again shortly. "I want every boy here that can get to my

house on Clinch a-Christmas to come, and see a good time," he announced.

"Come the Saturday after New Christmas. I can't drink myself, on account

of what paw said; but I got good-and-plenty for my friends. And maw

she'll give you all you can eat. And we'll shoot off all paw's guns and

pistols."

There was unanimous acceptance, even by boys living nearly forty miles

distant from Killis, Nucky's being qualified by the condition, "If the

Cheevers haint giving too much trouble at home."

I sighed deeply. "Boys," I said, "you know what I think about drinking;

you know I consider it very, very wrong."

"Quare women has quare notions," remarked Joab, forbearingly.

"You know I hope the day will come when not one of you will ever touch

liquor," I said. "Is there one now who thinks enough of me to promise

not to drink this Christmas?"

The dead silence that followed was broken at last by Philip. "We like

you all right," he said; "but, by grab, a fellow's got to see some fun!"

It is rumored that Killis's uncles still carry on the business in which

his father perished; so I suppose there will be no doubt about the

"good-and-plenty" to drink at his house.

_Sunday, mid-December._

Two birthdays this past week, Philip's thirteenth, Wednesday, and

Nucky's twelfth yesterday, and the excitement of having gorgeous

birthday cakes at our table, and passing around candles for birthday

wishes.

At bed-time last night, Hen came up from the wash-house looking

extremely clean as to head and feet. When he was passing into the

bedroom however, I called him back. "What is that dark band just below

your nightgown?" I asked.

He made no reply, but stooped so that his gown should fall lower. I

lifted the hem to his knees, revealing the fact that the cleanness

stopped half-way, and that above that line his legs were more than

dingy. "Didn't you wash all over?" I inquired.

"Not quite all."

"How much did you wash?"

"Down to my neck and very near up to my knees. That dag-gone ole gown

done shrunk up two inches sence the last time."

"But didn't I tell you you must wash all over every single bath?"

"That was before cold weather sot in. Philip he said down to your neck

and up to your knees was a-plenty in cold weather, and all _he_ was

aiming to do; and it's all any of us boys been a-doing sence November

started in."

"You haint never washed as far up as your knees, son," corrected Keats,

from superior heights; "you allus stop where your nightgown comes to. I

told you she'd ketch you if you done that!"

Summoning all my family, I found the shocking fact to be true that for

six weeks not one had bathed any farther than "down to my neck and up to

my knees,"--they rather gloried in it, especially Philip, and complained

bitterly when made to lose several days' play time, in addition to

taking a complete bath instantly, every one, though it was already past

bed-time.

Truly my Thanksgiving pride in their beautiful manners and aristocratic

appearance has received a severe shock!

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