CHRISTMAS WREATHS
The autumn days sped quickly by. There was plenty to do both in school
and out, so Joanne had no time for moping. She had her ups and downs,
of course, and once in a while flew into one of her old rages, but each
time she was more ashamed, and was beginning to see that the game was
not worth the candle. Her girl friends did much in helping her to see
this; Winnie, particularly, gave her no sympathy when she came to her
with an imagined grievance.
“What’s the use of getting all worked up over a little thing like
that?” she would ask. “Suppose you can’t always have your own way.
Isn’t it just as important that your grandmother should have hers?
Don’t be so stuck on yourself, Joanne Selden.” After which blunt speech
Joanne would feel, first furious, then penitent, and all would go along
smoothly till the next outbreak which would be less violent.
She flounced out of the room one day after a hot argument with her
grandmother and on her way up-stairs heard the latter say: “I wonder if
that poor child will ever learn to control her temper.”
“She is learning,” Dr. Selden returned. “Rome wasn’t built in a day,
my dear, and if you will look back you will see that she has made
vast improvement. I think we have every reason to believe that she
will develop into a fine woman. A girl with her spirit isn’t going to
disappoint us. She is making a good fight. Many a time I have seen her
bite her lips to keep back some hot words. The thing to do is to trust
her, and not reprove too much; that only makes her defiant. It was the
same with her father, you remember. We must help her, not antagonize
her.”
Joanne went on to her room, murmuring: “Dear Grad; he understands. I
won’t disappoint him. I will not.” She went to the clothes press and
took down a hat box from which she drew her new winter hat. She tried
it on, and looked at it from all sides. Then she took it off and stood
with it poised upon her hand. Finally she put it back into the box,
replaced the lid with a determined air and shoved the box back upon its
shelf. Taking down her last year’s hat she settled it on her head with
scarcely a glance in the mirror, and picking up her gloves she left the
room.
The argument, be it said, was upon the subject of hats. Joanne had
insisted upon wearing the new one; her grandmother had declared she
must not, as the weather was unsettled, and she might spot the velvet
of the hat. Joanne had said she would carry an umbrella, but this did
not satisfy Mrs. Selden, who declared it was not suitable to wear a new
hat in the rain. Then came the flouncing out of the room. Now Joanne
reëntered wearing the old hat. She gave her grandmother a parting kiss
but to her grandfather she gave an extra hug. She was off to a matinée
with Winnie and Claudia and did want to show off the new hat which had
come home only the evening before.
She found the girls waiting for her. She saw that both wore their last
year’s suits and hats and was glad she had taken her grandmother’s
advice.
“Clausie saw Miss Dodge to-day,” began Winnie, “and she wants us to
think up some way of earning Christmas money for charity. It seems to
me we exhausted our ingenuity upon the garden party; for my part I
haven’t an idea left in my head. Claus thinks each one might do some
special thing to earn money, but as for team work I don’t see what is
left to do. How’s your brain working, Jo? Anything to suggest?”
“Not when you spring it on me like that, but I’ll try to start the old
thing going and let you know later on.”
“We’ve got to be up and doing,” Clausie reminded her, “for Christmas is
marching on apace.”
“Don’t I know it? There’s no doubt but it’s a great thing to be a Girl
Scout, but it certainly does keep you hustling.”
Interested as the girls were in the play, between acts they reverted
to this conversation, but were no nearer a plan at the close than they
were in the beginning.
“Maybe some of the other girls will have a brilliant idea to suggest,”
said Clausie as they parted, “but keep on your thinking cap just the
same, Jo.”
Joanne promised and went on home through the rain which was now falling
steadily. In spite of it she found that the Pattisons had come to
dinner, as it was their habit to do once a week at least, and this
generally on Saturday.
They were all sitting around talking seriously when Joanne came in. “It
was a lovely show,” she said as she drew off her gloves and cuddled up
to Mrs. Pattison on the sofa. “Why do you all look so grave?”
“We were talking of conditions in Europe, of the poor starving children
there. It seems as if we should make every sacrifice to help them.”
Joanne drew a long sigh, and sat with downcast eyes and thoughtful
expression. “I suppose every little helps,” she said, presently. “I was
going to invite Winnie and Clausie to go to a matinée next Saturday,
but I can give that up so I can send the money it would cost for
tickets. The girls won’t mind when I explain. I wish I knew some way we
could earn money. Miss Dodge wants us to think up some plan.”
Mrs. Pattison drew Joanne closer, and dropped a light kiss on her
head. “You are a dear,” she whispered. “I saw Miss Dodge to-day, and I
imagine she has this very object in view, for she spoke of it.”
“Can’t any of you think of some way we girls could earn money?” Joanne
appealed to the others.
“I suppose you might make fancy articles,” remarked her grandmother.
“No doubt you could find a sale for them now that Christmas is at hand.”
“Yes, but that takes so long, and we want something we can do in a
hurry,” Joanne objected.
“You might go around and take orders for soap or something, like the
little girl in your favorite book,” Dr. Selden suggested.
“Oh, yes, ‘Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm.’ I could do that, but I don’t
know who would like me to sell anything, and Christmas would be here
before I found out.”
“We don’t seem very happy in our suggestions,” said Mrs. Selden; “I am
afraid we can’t help you out.”
Joanne sighed again and looked around upon the group; her grandmother
gray haired, a little pucker between the eyes, stout, neat and
carefully dressed; her grandfather tall, spare, a trifle bald,
keen-eyed; her Cousin Ned, a thoughtful look upon his handsome face,
her Cousin Sue smiling down at her. Among them all must be developed
some plan.
Presently her Cousin Ned gave his knee a slap. “I have it!” he cried.
“Why not sell Christmas greens? You can go up and help yourselves from
that piece of woods where the fire was. I’m thinking of clearing it up,
anyway. There are some nice little pines and cedars in there and a lot
of ground-pine. Shouldn’t wonder if there were some holly, too. Yes, I
am sure there is.”
Joanne sprang to her feet. “You darling deliverer!” she cried as she
dashed over to give him a hug. “Now tell me just how we are to get it,”
she went on perching herself on the arm of his chair.
“Can’t some of your Boy Scout friends help you out? You could make up
a party to go up there. You girls could gather the ground-pine and
holly while the boys cut down the trees. Too bad the canal boats aren’t
running, for you could ship the stuff right down on them, but if you
have more than the car or cars will hold, perhaps you can get Clover to
bring it down in a wagon; he’ll be coming down here, probably. You can
tell him why you are getting it, and I’m sure he’ll fall in with the
plan. He’s a very good-hearted fellow.”
“Cousin Ned, I do think you are the most wonderful man,” exclaimed
Joanne leaning over to give her cousin’s cheek a loving pat. “It is all
so perfectly dear and sweet. In the first place it will be heavenly
to go up there and get the greens, and it will be the greatest fun to
make the wreaths, and we’ll make more money than we could in any other
way. Besides it will be team work, which is the nicest of all. I wonder
where would be the best place to sell the greens.”
“I’ll be the first customer,” spoke up Dr. Selden. “Count me in for all
the wreaths and garlands we shall need.”
“Oh, Grad, you dear!” Joanne left her perch to take a similar one by
her grandfather and to give him a little peck of a kiss on his cheek.
“I want a tree, too.”
“You? Aren’t you too big for trees?”
“I don’t mean a baby tree, just a cunning little one for the dinner
table.”
“All right; we’ll have it.”
“I’ll hunt up some funny little presents to put on it, and we’ll have
them somewhere between turkey and plum pudding.” Again she left her
perch to settle down a second time by her Cousin Sue. “It’s so adorable
to think we’ll have Christmas in our own home and that you and Cousin
Ned will be with us,” she said giving Mrs. Pattison’s hand a squeeze.
Here dinner was announced, but Joanne could hardly wait till it was
over before she went to the ’phone to tell her glad tidings to Winnie
and Claudia, meeting, of course, a most enthusiastic approval. “We’ll
go up on Saturday,” she concluded by saying. “Pray Heaven it will be a
good day.”
The boys were quite as ready as the girls for the trip, and set aside
all anxiety when they said there would be no trouble in getting two
automobiles. Mr. Fosdick would let Hal take his car, Jimmy Carey could
get another.
“We must start early,” Hal said, “and we’d better take along something
to eat. If you girls could bring sandwiches we’ll provide the rest.”
Fortunately the weather continued mild, and Mrs. Selden, who at first
was rather dubious about the trip, at last saw no reason why Joanne
should not go. So off they started in high feather. For some mysterious
reason Chet Lacey and Pete Lowe did not join them.
“I don’t see what struck those boys,” said Hal as they started off.
“You know Pete said it would give a chance for more of the girls to
go,” remarked Miss Chesney.
“Yes, but Pete could have squeezed in somewhere,” protested Hal. “He
could have stood on the running board; we could have taken turns, for
that matter.”
However, the absence of two of their comrades did not spoil their
pleasure. The roads were good and they made excellent time, so they
arrived quite early enough. As they turned off from the main road, they
decided to leave the automobiles, as it was not very safe further on,
so out they all clambered to walk the rest of the way. They had gone
but a few steps when they heard the tinkle of a guitar.
“I do believe Pablo is there to help us,” cried Joanne. “Yes, I see
Chico. That’s fine. Now we shall have no trouble getting the trees out
of the woods, for Chico can drag them.”
Another turn disclosed not only Chico and Pablo, but Chet and Pete,
Pete seated on a log and strumming away on his guitar, Chet swinging on
a grape vine.
“You lobsters! How did you get here?” cried Hal dashing forward.
“Think nobody can run a car but yourself, don’t you?” returned Chet.
“Car? What car?”
Chet pointed to a small runabout hidden from sight behind a clump of
bushes, then he broke into derisive shouts of laughter at sight of
Hal’s expression of astonishment. “We got the drop on you that time,”
he cried. “This pays you up for that last trick you played on Pete and
me.”
“All right; it is the kind of paying up I like,” returned Hal
good-naturedly. “Come on, boys, where are the axes? Let’s get to work.”
“Where do we start?” asked Jimmy, shouldering his axe.
“I don’t suppose it makes much difference,” decided Hal. “Each fellow
can pick out his own tree. Mr. Pattison said we could take whatever we
wanted, didn’t he, Jo?”
“He did indeed.”
“He’s what I call a true sport,” said Chet. “He plays the game up to
the limit. I don’t believe he has a mean bone in his body.” He gave a
first stroke on the trunk of a small cedar, and soon the axes were busy.
The girls, after petting Chico and having a little chat with Pablo,
went in search of the ground-pine.
“That Unc’ Aaron he is show me where is best,” announced Pablo. “I go
make you see where is.”
“Where is Unc’ Aaron?” inquired Joanne.
“He come bimeby. At the present moment he have a work to do.”
Piloted by Pablo the girls went on to discover the pretty running
wreaths of green, and to find several bushes of holly red with berries.
The prickly leaves made the gathering of this last rather a trying job,
but the girls had carried knives and wore thick gloves, so they managed
very well.
It was not long before they heard a distant singing, a wild weird
strain, and through the trees they saw the approaching figure of Unc’
Aaron. At sight of the girls he stopped his camp-meeting tune and came
up bowing and scraping. “Good-mawnin’, ladies,” he said. “Dis are an
onexpected gratication, mos’ lak a fessible, seein’ yuh-alls in de
midst of wintah. Mistah Clovah done tell me las’ night he lookin’ fo’
yuh-alls ter come up fur to git crowfoot and all dat greeny stuff.”
“Do you call this crowfoot?” inquired Joanne touching the pile at her
feet.
“Das de entitlements it have about hyah,” replied Unc’ Aaron. “Is
yuh-alls lak dis hyar missytoe?”
“Mistletoe? Oh, we love it, but we haven’t seen any.”
“Den yuh-alls hasn’t sought in de right place. I knows whar it is. Yuh
come along wid me, little lady, an’ I shows yuh.”
Joanne followed the old man through clumps of underbrush which he held
aside that she might pass through, and in the depths of the woods he
paused and pointed upward. There, clinging to a tall tree, was the
bunch of mistletoe. Joanne looked up with clasped hands and eyes full
of wondering delight. “It really is,” she said softly. “I never saw it
growing before. Oh, Unc’ Aaron, they all must see it before we take it
down.”
“I goes an’ fetches dem,” he offered.
“But how can we get at it?”
“Dat little Pabblyo, he climb a tree lak a monkey; he git it. Jes’ yuh
wait; he git it.” Unc’ Aaron had called Pablo so from the first, and
nothing would ever make him change the pronunciation of the boy’s name.
Joanne sat still upon an old stump, her eyes fixed upon the gray green
parasite with its waxen berries. In a moment a flash of red showed her
that a cardinal bird was wintering near by. She watched him flit from
tree to tree, and presently saw the bright blue plumage of a jay whose
impetuous dashing flight gave evidence that he knew the presence of a
stranger. She heard his harsh cry farther off, and next was attracted
by a pair of squirrels playfully chasing each other from branch to
branch. She was still watching their antics when Winnie came up.
“The others will be along in a minute,” she announced. “Mr. Clover
is there with a big drag that they haul stones on, and the girls are
loading it with the greens so they can be easily taken to the road
and into the automobiles. All the trees are to be hauled to town in a
wagon. Where is the mistletoe?”
Joanne pointed upward. “Isn’t it a fine big bunch? There are so many
interesting things to see in these woods. I have been watching the
squirrels and birds. Don’t you wish you could be transformed into some
little woodsy creature, an elf or a gnome or something? Then you could
get so close to the forest life and get intimate with all the little
people who live here.”
Winnie laughed. “I think I prefer to be myself. I shouldn’t like to be
too intimate with some of the denizens of the forest; they might eat me
up.”
“Oh, I don’t mean to be always an elf or fay, but just sometimes; when
you felt like it. Here come the rest. Now we can see Pablo do his
climbing stunt.”
The girls and some of the boys came trooping up, and presently Pablo
was nimbly climbing the tree, finally detaching the coveted mistletoe
which he tossed down to the group below. It was deftly caught by one
of the boys and was borne off in triumph to top the pile of holly and
other greens ready to be taken back to town. There was not a girl or
boy who did not demand a bit, and it was quite clear there would be few
greens of any kind left to sell to any but the gatherers. The trees, to
be sure, were less in demand, but these would be easily disposed of.
Noon found them still busy. An hour passed. Chet looked at his watch.
“I don’t know how the rest of you feel,” he said, “but I think it’s
time we had some ‘grub.’ I could eat a dozen hot dogs this minute.
You’ve heard the expression ‘hungry as a wood chopper’; well, here is
the living fact.”
This was the signal for the boys to throw down their axes, for the
girls to start the alcohol lamp over which to heat those same “hot
dogs” and in a few minutes they were all eating ravenously sandwiches,
crackers and cheese, the frankfurters, cakes and bananas, till not a
crumb was left.
“If there is anything better than chopping down trees in winter to give
one an absolutely insatiable appetite, lead me to it,” said Chet.
“We haven’t done any chopping,” returned Joanne, “but I was never so
hungry in my life.”
“And look at the color you have,” said Winnie. “You were the palest
thing ever when I first saw you. There’s nothing like scouting to set
you up.”
“Don’t I know that?” replied Joanne brushing the crumbs from her lap.
“Time’s up!” cried Hal jumping to his feet; “we’ve got to get busy if
we are to finish up in time to reach home before dark.”
“We can’t do that,” avowed Jimmy, “for we’re on the shortest days. If
we get home by dinner time we’ll do.”
“But we’ll have to get started before dark; we don’t want to stay in
these woods after sundown,” declared Miss Chesney.
“Go to it, boys,” cried Hal, and again the axes were at work.
The company was loth to leave the spot; there was always some specially
fine piece of crowfoot, a particularly full branch of holly which
attracted the eye of somebody, and which must not be left.
Joanne had wandered off a little way tracing the trailing green of a
last growth of crowfoot. “Come along, Jo?” cried Hal. “We’re going.”
“Wait a minute! Wait a minute!” she called back.
“Can’t wait.”
“But I’ve found something.”
Hal ran over to where she stood bending over some object upon the
ground. “What is it?” he asked as he came up. “More crowfoot?”
“Not crowfoot, but crowfeet,” answered Joanne. “The feet belong to a
poor little crow that has been hurt, in a trap, I suppose. He is rather
hostile, but I’m trying to get him into a better frame of mind. I’m
going to take him home; he will make a darling of a pet.”
“Perhaps he will and perhaps he will not,” returned Hal. “Let’s see
him.”
Joanne moved away from the little barrier she had made around the
object of her concern and Hal picked up the bird, which cocked a
suspicious eye at him, but did not struggle much. “It is clear that
his leg is broken,” declared Hal. “If we had some kind of bandage I
could put a little splint on it and it would be all right till your
grandfather sees it.”
Joanne drew forth a handkerchief and began tearing it into strips. “Who
wouldn’t sacrifice an old handkerchief to such a cause?” she said.
“Cause? What cause?”
“The crow’s caws, of course,” returned Joanne. They both laughed and
while Joanne held the bird, laid on its back, in a hollow between
her knees, Hal deftly bandaged the broken leg. There were several
expostulatory, throaty caws, and a few savage pecks at Joanne, but she
managed to hold the patient firmly and the work was soon accomplished.
It was only just finished when Pete and Jimmy came up. “What in the
name of common sense is keeping you two?” they asked.
“First Aid,” returned Hal. “We have a patient.”
“Let’s see.”
Joanne held up the crow.
“Well, I vow!” exclaimed Pete. “What you going to do with him?”
“Take him home.”
“What do you want with an old crow?” asked Jimmy.
“I’ll make a pet of him, and he can be our mascot. I wish I had a
basket or something to put him in.”
“What’s the matter with the basket we have the Scraggses presents in?”
said Hal. “We’ve got to stop there and deliver them and needn’t leave
the basket.”
“Just the thing,” agreed Joanne.
Of course every one clamored to know what had detained them so long,
but admitted that they were justified, and finally they started off,
the automobiles piled high with greens so that the occupants were
almost hidden, and there was scarcely room for the basket Mrs. Clover
insisted they should take along.
“Just some pork stuff I’m sending to Mrs. Pattison and Mrs. Selden for
Christmas,” she confided to Joanne. “We killed a hawg the other day and
the sausage is prime if I do say it.”
There was a short stop at the Scraggses. Mrs. Scraggs, blowsy as ever,
came to the door with Claude Lafayette in her arms, the other children
crowding around, eager-eyed as the Christmas parcels were handed out.
Then they were off again, tired but happy.