CHRISTMAS GIFTS
A new world had opened to Daniella Boggs. Every day of her stay with
the Corners some strange and surprising fact became known to her. The
girls were a revelation in themselves, and their appearance when they
were dressed for the party gave her a glimpse into scenes of which she
had never even dreamed. She was taught more than words and figures by
Miss Helen, and her young mind was daily expanding, so that she became
more and more interesting to her teacher as well as her friends. Mrs.
Boggs was slowly recovering from her hurts, and the doctor thought in
a few weeks she would be able to leave the hospital. Old Daniel Boggs,
however, failed visibly. Just what his daughter-in-law would do in the
event of his death gave every one concern. It was learned that Mrs.
Boggs had a brother in Texas and to him Colonel Lewis had written. All
Daniella's friends were interested to know what answer would be made to
this letter.
"Christmas is very near," said Nan the Saturday after the party. "We
shall have to make everything this year, but fortunately there are
plenty of materials yet in grandmother's trunk."
"And there are the photographs," said Mary Lee.
"Yes, and I mean to frame those," Nan told her. "That can be my
Christmas gift to mother. You sew so nicely, Mary Lee, you can make her
a set of collars and cuffs."
"And what shall I make?" asked Jean.
"Why, kitty, let me see. You can make a pretty little work-bag. It will
be easy to make and there's a lovely piece of silk in the trunk."
Jack was sitting with folded hands thinking deeply. After a while she
drew a long breath of relief. "I'm going to give her my locket and
chain," she announced.
"Why, ducky dear," said Nan. "She couldn't wear it for it would be
too small for her, and, besides, one shouldn't give away a particular
present like that."
"But it's the prettiest thing I've got," persisted Jack, "and she can
look at it, anyhow."
"But mother wouldn't want you to give it to her," Nan went on. "She'd
much rather you'd make something for her. Let me see--suppose you make
a----"
"I don't think I'll make anything," interrupted Jack. "If I can't send
her the chain I'll send her my silk stockings."
"You ridiculous child! What on earth could mother do with them?"
"She could look at them."
"You're a goosey goose," said Nan, affectionately, drawing Jack to her.
"You must give her something appropriate, not anything like that. Oh,
I know what you can do. It will be fine. I almost wish I had thought
of it for myself. You can give her one of those calendars like Aunt
Helen has. It will be just the thing. All you have to do is to get
three hundred and sixty-five sheets of paper and take a certain number
to each person whom you select; then the person writes a verse, or
a selection or a--a--thought and signs her name. You tie them all
together and put a cover on and it makes the nicest thing in the world
for any one away from her friends."
"Where shall I get the paper?" said Jack.
Nan had not thought of this part. "Why, I think maybe there is some in
one of the boxes in the attic," she said reflectively; "I will look."
The idea of a calendar pleased Jack. The taking around of the slips was
just what she would like to do. "What shall we have on the cover?" she
asked presently.
Nan's ingenuity again came to fill the breach. "A photograph of this
house would be fine. Ran took a real good one, and I know he'd be glad
to give a print for the calendar. Now we have got to plan for everybody
else; there are so many this year."
"There is Aunt Sarah," said Jean.
"And Daniella," put in Mary Lee.
"And Mrs. Boggs," Jack reminded them.
"And the boys." Jean mentioned these.
"And Cousin Polly," added Nan. "She was so lovely about the party
frocks that we ought to give her something very nice."
"Miss Belle Brockenborough was, too," said Jean.
"Of course, we must remember her and Cousin Mag. Do you suppose we'd
better make something for grandmother and Aunt Helen?" Nan asked with
an air of gravity.
"Not from the things they sent," said Mary Lee.
"No, but we could make some little things; we must do it. Then there is
Unc' Landy and Mitty besides the Sunday-school teachers and----"
"Miss Lawrence," put in Jean.
Jack made a face at this last suggestion.
"Now, Jack," Nan reproved her.
"If she hadn't such big ears, I wouldn't mind so much," said Jack, "but
they stick out so and she has a way with her mouth that always makes
me mad."
"Never mind; she is very good to you and has stood much more than most
teachers would. I'll tell you what, Mary Lee, we'll make a lot of
panuchee and take a box to each of the teachers. Every one says our
black walnut panuchee is the best they ever ate."
"Miss Lawrence asked me for the recipe," said Mary Lee; "I hope I got
it just right: a pound and a half of brown sugar, three quarters of a
cup of milk, about a quarter of a pound of butter, and a lot of chopped
nuts. Melt the sugar and milk; let it boil twenty minutes, add the
butter and nuts, beat for about five minutes till it gets real sugary
and then pour in pans or make it into little cakes by dropping from a
spoon. Is that right?"
"That is it," Nan told her. "We might make two or three kinds. I like
peanut myself."
"Now have we thought of everybody?" asked Mary Lee.
"We haven't thought of each other," said Jack.
Nan laughed. "That makes three more apiece. How they do count up. We
can leave one another till the last minute because we are right in the
house. What shall you give Daniella, Mary Lee?"
"I thought maybe we could find a hair ribbon in the trunk. She has
never had one and thinks they are so fine. They cost too much when you
have to buy them."
Nan approved of this. "I want to give her something real frivolous that
no one else would give her," she said. "I know lots of people will
think of her and will send her useful things. Let's look over what's
in the trunk and pick out what we will use. Maybe I can find something
there, too."
This suggestion was met with universal approval, and the four clattered
up-stairs. This was the time of day when Daniella went to see her
mother at the hospital and when Aunt Sarah was busy in the kitchen. The
four sisters gathered around the little trunk which still held many
pretty odds and ends as yet unused. Nan did the rummaging.
"There, Jean," she said, tossing out a piece of flowered silk; "that
will do for mother's bag."
"Isn't it a lovely craulity?" said Jean, smoothing out the silk.
"Here are some ends of ribbon that will do for the strings," said Nan,
dragging out some lengths of lavender. "Oh, oh, this is exactly what
I will give to Daniella; these red beads. She will love them, and we
have plenty. There are more here. We can give a string to Cousin Polly,
these queer-looking ones will just do for her; she loves easterny
looking things. And oh, Mary Lee, we can use some of this Florentine
orris and make a sachet for Miss Belle. Here is some perfectly lovely
lace. What shall we do with it?"
"Make some sort of stock or something for Aunt Sarah, and if there is
enough, one for Cousin Mag."
"Just the ticket," cried Nan; "you're a dabster, Mary Lee. Suppose you
get a paper and pencil and put down the things and the person's names
as we make up our minds about them; then we won't forget what is for
each."
Mary Lee liked to make lists and she was quick to follow out this plan.
"Three boxes of panuchee for the three teachers," she read off. "Stocks
of lace for Aunt Sarah and Cousin Mag; beads, Polly; beads, Daniella;
sachet, Miss Belle. I think mother ought to have a lace collar and
cuffs, Nan; she ought to have the best."
"Of course. Well, here's this narrower lace; we could sew it on some
thin stuff and make the collars for the others and give mother the
handsome lace. Oh, dear, every one's present to mother will be better
than mine. Maybe I can think of something else for her. I think each
of us should give Aunt Sarah something, and I believe I will make a
work-bag out of this." She spread out a piece of silk on her lap. "Now,
what next? Here are several hat-pins, six of them; we could give this
amethyst looking one to Aunt Sarah, Jean can give that and Jack can
give her--can give her----" Nan went on rummaging, "this dear little
box. I'd like it myself but I'll give it up to Aunt Sarah. It has
Sorrento on it, so it must have come from there. This trunk is like
somebody's bag--who was it that had a purse or a bag or whatever it
was, that never failed?"
"Fortunatus, you mean." Mary Lee gave the information.
"Yes, he is the person. Who is left on the list, Mary Lee?"
"Let me see. Mrs. Boggs, the boys, Mitty and Unc' Landy, ourselves,
Aunt Helen and grandmother, if you say so."
Nan swept something from the trunk and hid it behind her. "I've
something for you," she sang out.
"That's not fair," said Mary Lee, in an aggrieved tone. "You are right
there and can pick out anything."
"Well," spoke up Jack, "grandmother sent it all to her."
"That's so, I forgot that," said Mary Lee, abashed.
"You know perfectly well that I wouldn't take anything unless the rest
of you had share and share alike," said Nan, "and I'll tell you what
we'll do; each one shall have a pick in turn: three grabs apiece and
if we can't find anything we like we shall have to make something. How
will that do?"
All agreed that this was not only fair but generous and one after
another was sent out of the room while the choice for her was being
made, and at last Nan shut the trunk and shoved it under the bed.
"Hasn't it been fun?" she said. "I do feel so grateful to grandmother
for sending over that trunk. Think what has come out of it. We never
in the world could have given half the Christmas gifts nor nearly such
nice ones. What shall we give the boys, Mary Lee?"
"I suppose they'd as soon have panuchee as anything."
"We can't all give them panuchee; they'll be ill if we do."
"Then we'll have to think up something; we've done enough planning for
one day."
"I'm more bothered about Aunt Helen and grandmother than any one just
now, to tell you the truth."
"One of them can have panuchee."
"Oh, Mary Lee, we aren't going to set up a candy factory."
"I know, but two or three goes of it will make enough to give a lot of
people and everybody likes it."
"Well, as you say, we have done enough planning for one day. I am going
over to see Aunt Helen now. I want to tell her what fun we had over the
trunk and besides I know she will have some ideas for Christmas."
Each girl carried off her treasures and Nan set out for Uplands, but,
before she had gone far, she came rushing back, rummaged for paper
and pencil and started forth again wearing what was called the family
cloak. This was a dark red golf cape which was worn indiscriminately by
all the members of the family from Aunt Sarah down. The pointed hood
upon it could be taken off, by unbuttoning it, and made a convenient
pouch for the wearer who wished to bring home any chance spoils
gathered by the way, so the cloak was always in demand.
It was a brisk winter's day, but too cold for a stop at Place o' Pines,
though Nan turned aside to peep into her old shelter. As she turned
from the spot, she gave a gleeful skip. "Joy, joy," she cried, "I have
an idea!"
"So glad," said some one near her. "Where are you going, West Corner?"
This was Ran's favorite name for her and it was he as she well knew.
"I am going to Uplands, but I came around this way to look for some
little wee pine cones."
Ran appeared from behind a tree where he had been in hiding. "What are
you going to do with little pine cones?" he asked.
"I want to use them on a picture frame for mother's Christmas gift.
I have seen real pretty frames made of them. We shall have to get
mother's Christmas box ready first and we have none too much time. We
have been having lots of fun, Ran, planning out the presents we shall
give. It will be rather a forlorn Christmas, I am afraid, with all we
can do, for there will be no mother and you boys will not be here."
"That's where you are mistaken," said Ran soberly. "We shall be here.
We are not going home after all."
"You're not? Oh, dear, I'm so sorry for you, though I am glad we shall
be able to keep you; the more the merrier, you know. What is the matter
at home, Ran?"
"My little sister, Leila, has scarlet fever, and, as soon as she is
well enough, they are going to take her to Florida. That lets us out of
any holiday at home either way. Father and mother wouldn't want us to
be exposed to the danger of taking the fever, and, if Leila gets well
before Christmas, they will leave anyhow."
"Isn't it just too bad? Well, we must try to have as jolly a time as
we can. We are in something the same box, for we must do without our
mother, too. There will be all sorts of parties and things going on in
town, so maybe you will enjoy yourselves more than you think; still I
am very sorry for you. Christmas anywhere except in one's own home and
with one's own family can't help being sort of dreary."
Such sweet sympathy was consoling and Ran helped her to look for the
pine cones which she put in the hood of her cloak to carry away. He
promised to help her with the wooden framework upon which she was to
glue the cones, and suggested a quadruple frame which would look more
important than four small ones.
"But the glass will be harder to get," said Nan. "I have some old
photograph plates that I was going to clean off and use for the small
frames. Ammonia cleans them beautifully."
"I'll attend to getting the glass for you," promised Ran. "I know where
there is a piece of glass that will just do." The glass was at the one
frame-maker's in town and Ran meant to buy it, but he did not tell Nan
so, knowing she would object. Nan told him about Jack's calendar and
he offered not only to furnish the photograph they wanted but to take
several more of interiors which could be scattered through the pages to
give comfort and pleasure to the absent mother.
Never before had Ran been so kind and interested and when he left her
at her grandmother's door Nan said: "I always wanted an older brother,
Ran, to do just the things for me that you are going to do. It is a
real comfort to know you are going to be here all through the holidays."
Her Aunt Helen gave her the warm greeting with which she always met
this niece for whom she daily felt a deeper affection. Nan was so
graciously appreciative, so winsomely enthusiastic, so spontaneously
affectionate, that her aunt felt that of all her nieces she must always
love her best. Nan first told of the pleasure they had been having in
looking over and dividing the remaining articles of the trunk, and
then she said, "There are two or three things I want to consult you
about, Aunt Helen. We ought and want to give something to the boys, but
boys are so hard to get things for, and when one has no money----" She
stopped short with a blush. Never, except by accident, did she refer to
this fact in the presence of her aunt and grandmother. "I mean," she
went on, "it is much nicer to make something unless you can really buy
something worth while, as mother says. There are four of us and there
are two boys; that makes eight presents, you see."
"Truly that is quite a number to think of," said her aunt.
"Yes, it is. Mary Lee is going to give each of them a box of
panuchee--I don't know what we should do this year if we didn't know
how to make it--so that leaves six."
"We shall have to put on our thinking-caps," said Miss Helen,
meditatively. "You could make a twine ball, for one thing; that is
cheap and easy and boys always are glad of string."
"But it takes a ball of twine."
"I have several and shall be pleased to present you with a couple."
"But----"
"No buts, please, dear; it is such a very little thing."
"Oh, very well," Nan replied weakly, seeing it would hurt her aunt to
refuse.
"Then I am sure there must be a silk handkerchief in that trunk."
"Of course there is. I never thought of that, and I saw it only
to-day. Why that is half the eight already."
"Then--let me see--did you ever see a devil penwiper made from a
wishbone? I'll show you how to make one. It costs nothing and that
makes five, you see. I think a blotter always does very well to give a
schoolboy."
Nan sighed. There would be blotting paper to be bought. Her aunt read
her thought and did not insist upon this. "A burnt match-receiver can
be easily made," she went on, "and it is nice to give things for a
boy's room when he is away from home. There is a kind that is made by
crocheting a cover over a goblet from which the stem has been broken."
"I am sure we can get that easily enough," laughed Nan. "I suppose
worsted will do for the crocheted part, and I have some of that."
"Worsted is the proper thing. It will make a nice, useful present."
"There are only two more and they can be something very simple for the
twins to give."
"Then a couple of little calendars will do. Two or three have come to
us from advertising houses. We'll take off the advertisement and put
the calendars on pretty cards. There are some in the trunk, aren't
there? So now you have every one supplied."
"I knew you would help us out, you dearest Aunt Helen. Now, there is
one thing more, and this is my own secret. I am going to give mother
the photographs in a frame that I am going to make myself, though Ran
will help me, but the others have so much nicer things and I would like
to send her something that comes right from myself, from my inside
heart, so"--she hesitated a moment. "You know," she went on shyly, "you
said long ago you thought my little tune wasn't so bad and I thought
I'd try to write some words that would go with the tune. Would you mind
very much helping me a little to get it all right?"
"Why, darling girl, of course I shall be delighted to give you any help
within my power, and it is a lovely thought, one I am sure your mother
will appreciate."
"I thought of the beginning while I was coming over here, and I went
back to get a paper and pencil, but Ran came along and I didn't have a
chance to write it down."
"Should you like to do it now? You can come right up into my room, if
you like. Not a soul will disturb you, and, unless you would rather be
alone, I will sit there and you can consult me or not as you like."
"Oh, I'd like to consult you; that is what I really want to do; and I'm
sure to be able to write what I want when I am in your lovely room."
"Let us go up then."
For some time Nan scribbled away while Miss Helen busied herself with
some embroidery. Once or twice the writer asked a question. "Does
_azure_ rhyme with _to her_, Aunt Helen?"
"Scarcely," was the reply.
"Then I won't try to make it." And Nan went on, "Do you spell scanned
with one _n_ or two?" she asked after a while.
"With two, dear."
Nan set to work again. After a time she looked up anxiously. "Does
_cheap_ sound very badly in a poem?"
"It depends. I can tell better when I see."
"I'll have to leave it," said Nan. "There isn't any other word that
will rhyme and make sense. There, that's the very best I can do." She
brought her paper to her aunt who read the following:
"I thought, what can I send to her
Who is so very dear to me?
Shall I search the skies above,
Or the sea?
Shall I travel east and west?
Shall I look from south to north?
Where's a gift to give my best,
Dearest mother?
"But the skies are very far,
And the sea is much too deep,
While to travel all the earth
Is not cheap.
So, when I had scanned the blue,
Looked around, below, above,
All that I could find for you
Was my love, mother."
Nan watched her aunt anxiously. "Will it do?" she asked, wistfully.
Her aunt read it over again. "You have caught the metre quite well,"
she said, "and----" She knew it could be improved, but she did not want
to take the childishness from it so she said: "Yes, Nan, on the whole,
I think it will do."
"And may I put words and music by Nannette Weston Corner?" the composer
asked eagerly.
"I think I wouldn't use the Nannette. Let us always have the dear,
homely Nancy. I have some music-paper and you can make a copy. I will
help you."
Nan's starlike eyes expressed her joy. "It is almost like having it
really published," she said, "and I know mother will like it because I
did it and it is really a part of me."
"She would be a very cold-hearted mother not to appreciate it,"
returned Miss Helen, "and that Mary Lee is not. It is so dark, Nan, I
think I'd better send Martha home with you. Come over as soon as you
can and we'll get all these Christmas gifts finished up."
Nan hugged her closely. "How in the world did I ever get along without
you?" she said.
"And how did I ever get along without you?" returned Miss Helen with as
warm a hug. And the two parted.
[Illustration: CHAPTER XVIII
AN EVENING OF MUSIC]