THE HEART AND HAND.
"Why don't you open your stocking, papa?" inquired Bertie, when he saw
the gentleman about to leave his chamber.
"I'll leave that to mamma," he said laughing.
"But really, Lawrence," she answered, "you might see for yourself.
You'll regret it if you don't."
"Oh, of course, Cecilia, and spoil your joke!" He hesitated a moment
but catching a glimpse of Bertie's anxious face, he turned back
suddenly, and took down the stocking from the hook.
Putting his hand cautiously into the top, as if he were afraid of
being bitten, at which the children shouted with laughter, he pulled
forth a nicely rolled package, the outside of which he most carefully
examined with his fingers.
"Very fine!" he exclaimed, with a quick glance at his wife. "It is a
doughnut, I presume."
"Doughnuts are not to be despised when they are given to express
affection," she answered, gravely.
"Well," he said, laying the package on his knees, "I'll see what else
there is. I may find a solitary raisin enveloped in a pound or two of
paper."
"Oh, papa, you're too funny!" shouted Bertie.
"Quick, Lawrence, the bell will ring for breakfast presently."
He drew cautiously from the stocking a small box, tied and sealed
with wax.
"All very grand," he began, with a shrug of the shoulders, when his
wife caught it from his hands.
"Open the other, first," she said.
He tore off the paper, and presently came to a note addressed to
"Lawrence Curtis, Esq." in a beautifully neat hand. Opening it
cautiously, he glanced at the bottom, and saw the names of his entire
class, when his countenance changed at once.
"Really," he said, "I had no idea of this," reading aloud, "'Will our
dear teacher please accept the enclosed slippers as a trifling token
of our gratitude?'
"They are beautiful! very tasteful; exactly what I wanted! I must have
them made up at once. Oh! here is the cash for that purpose! Well, my
friends, I'm very grateful. Now I'm encouraged to try again," taking
up the box, and quizzically glancing into the blushing face before
him.
It contained a watch-chain of exquisite workmanship, manufactured of
hair and gold, attached to which was an ornament in the shape of a
heart, and a key in the form of a hand.
"My heart and my hand are all I have to give," she whispered, kissing
his forehead, while a tear glistened in her eye. "The chain was made
from the hair you cut from my head when I was so very sick."
He raised the precious token to his lips, exclaiming with great
tenderness, "I shall wear it as long as I live. What would the world
be to me, Cecilia, without your heart and hand?"
There was a service in the church at ten, and at noon all the really
aged people in the parish had been invited to a dinner at Woodlawn.
"I want to have a regular house-warming," Mr. Curtis had said to his
wife. "I want to warm it with the good will of all our villagers." So
it was decided that the old people should come to dinner, the married
persons and children to tea, and the young people of both sexes in the
evening.
I wish I could paint a picture of the happy faces that gathered around
the festal board during that lovely Christmas Day. There was the good
pastor and his family improving this pleasant occasion to speak a word
here and there as it was needed among their flock. There were Mr. and
Mrs. Hunt, leading Susy who had just returned from the hospital. There
was Thomas Grant, his face red as a beet, gallanting a very sensible
looking girl who was soon to become his wife. There were swarms of
laddies and lasses, kept in constant good humor by Albert Dodge, who
had returned to Oxford for the occasion. There were groups of
children headed by Bertie, playing all sorts of games, or gathering in
a circle around the Squire, who told them funny stories.
"You have learned the secret of living," remarked the Pastor, when he
came to take leave. "In promoting the happiness and welfare of those
about us we ensure our own."
"That is the rule by which my wife is training our boy," answered the
gentleman. "No other house-warming could have pleased us so well as
this."