"I looked. An old man was coming along the lane. His hair and beard
were as white as cotton-wool. He had a face like the sort of apple
that keeps well in winter; his coat was old and brown. There was snow
about him in patches, and he carried a small fir-tree.
"The same conviction seized upon us both. With one breath we
exclaimed, '_It's Old Father Christmas!_'
"I know now that it was only an old man of the place, with whom we did
not happen to be acquainted, and that he was taking a little fir-tree
up to the Hall, to be made into a Christmas-tree. He was a very
good-humoured old fellow, and rather deaf, for which he made up by
smiling and nodding his head a good deal, and saying, 'Aye, aye, _to_
be sure!' at likely intervals.
"As he passed us and met our earnest gaze, he smiled and nodded so
affably, that I was bold enough to cry, 'Good-evening, Father
Christmas!'
"'Same to you!' said he, in a high-pitched voice.
"'Then you _are_ Father Christmas?' said Patty.
"'And a Happy New Year,' was Father Christmas's reply, which rather
put me out. But he smiled in such a satisfactory manner, that Patty
went on, 'You're very old, aren't you?'
"'So I be, miss, so I be,' said Father Christmas, nodding.
"'Father says you're eighteen hundred and thirty years old,' I
muttered.
"'Aye, aye, to be sure,' said Father Christmas, 'I'm a long age.'
"A _very_ long age, thought I, and I added, 'You're nearly twice as
old as Methuselah, you know,' thinking that this might not have struck
him.
"'Aye, aye,' said Father Christmas; but he did not seem to think
anything of it. After a pause he held up the tree, and cried, 'D'ye
know what this is, little miss?'
"'A Christmas-tree,' said Patty.
"And the old man smiled and nodded.
"I leant over the wall, and shouted, 'But there are no candles.'
"'By and by,' said Father Christmas, nodding as before. 'When it's
dark they'll all be lighted up. That'll be a fine sight!'
"'Toys too, there'll be, won't there?' screamed Patty.
"Father Christmas nodded his head. 'And sweeties,' he added,
expressively.
"I could feel Patty trembling, and my own heart beat fast. The thought
which agitated us both, was this--'Was Father Christmas bringing the
tree to us?' But very anxiety, and some modesty also, kept us from
asking outright.
"Only when the old man shouldered his tree, and prepared to move on, I
cried in despair, 'Oh, are you going?'
"'I'm coming back by and by,' said he.
"'How soon?' cried Patty.
"'About four o'clock,' said the old man, smiling. 'I'm only going up
yonder.'
"And, nodding, and smiling as he went, he passed away down the lane.
"'Up yonder.' This puzzled us. Father Christmas had pointed, but so
indefinitely, that he might have been pointing to the sky, or the
fields, or the little wood at the end of the Squire's grounds. I
thought the latter, and suggested to Patty that perhaps he had some
place underground, like Aladdin's cave, where he got the candles, and
all the pretty things for the tree. This idea pleased us both, and we
amused ourselves by wondering what Old Father Christmas would choose
for us from his stores in that wonderful hole where he dressed his
Christmas-trees.
"'I wonder, Patty,' said I, 'why there's no picture of Father
Christmas's dog in the book.' For at the old man's heels in the lane
there crept a little brown and white spaniel, looking very dirty in
the snow.
"'Perhaps it's a new dog that he's got to take care of his cave,' said
Patty.
"When we went indoors we examined the picture afresh by the dim light
from the passage window, but found no dog there.
"My father passed us at this moment, and patted my head. 'Father,'
said I, 'I don't know, but I do think Old Father Christmas is going to
bring us a Christmas-tree to-night.'
"'Who's been telling you that?' said my father. But he passed on
before I could explain that we had seen Father Christmas himself, and
had had his word for it that he would return at four o'clock, and that
the candles on his tree would be lighted as soon as it was dark.
"We hovered on the outskirts of the rooms till four o'clock came. We
sat on the stairs and watched the big clock, which I was just learning
to read; and Patty made herself giddy with constantly looking up and
counting the four strokes, towards which the hour hand slowly moved.
We put our noses into the kitchen now and then, to smell the cakes
and get warm, and anon we hung about the parlour door, and were most
unjustly accused of trying to peep. What did we care what our mother
was doing in the parlour?--we who had seen Old Father Christmas
himself, and were expecting him back again every moment!
"At last the church clock struck. The sounds boomed heavily through
the frost, and Patty thought there were four of them. Then, after due
choking and whirring, our own clock struck, and we counted the strokes
quite clearly--one! two! three! four! Then we got Kitty's shawl once
more, and stole out into the back-yard. We ran to our old place, and
peeped, but could see nothing.
"'We'd better get up on to the wall,' I said; and with some difficulty
and distress from rubbing her bare knees against the cold stones, and
getting the snow up her sleeves, Patty got on the coping of the little
wall. I was just struggling after her, when something warm and
something cold coming suddenly against the bare calves of my legs,
made me shriek with fright. I came down 'with a run,' and bruised my
knees, my elbows, and my chin; and the snow that hadn't gone up
Patty's sleeves, went down my neck. Then I found that the cold thing
was a dog's nose, and the warm thing was his tongue; and Patty cried
from her post of observation, 'It's Father Christmas's dog, and he's
licking your legs.'
"It really was the dirty little brown and white spaniel; and he
persisted in licking me, and jumping on me, and making curious little
noises, that must have meant something if one had known his language.
I was rather harassed at the moment. My legs were sore, I was a little
afraid of the dog, and Patty was very much afraid of sitting on the
wall without me.
"'You won't fall,' I said to her. 'Get down, will you!' I said to the
dog.
"'Humpty Dumpty fell off a wall,' said Patty.
"'Bow! wow!' said the dog.
"I pulled Patty down, and the dog tried to pull me down; but when my
little sister was on her feet, to my relief, he transferred his
attentions to her. When he had jumped at her, and licked her several
times, he turned round and ran away.
"'He's gone,' said I; 'I'm so glad.'
"But even as I spoke he was back again, crouching at Patty's feet, and
glaring at her with eyes the colour of his ears.
"Now Patty was very fond of animals, and when the dog looked at her
she looked at the dog, and then she said to me, 'He wants us to go
with him.'
"On which (as if he understood our language, though we were ignorant
of his) the spaniel sprang away, and went off as hard as he could;
and Patty and I went after him, a dim hope crossing my mind--'Perhaps
Father Christmas has sent him for us.'
"This idea was rather favoured by the fact that the dog led us up the
lane. Only a little way; then he stopped by something lying in the
ditch--and once more we cried in the same breath, 'It's Old Father
Christmas!'"