UNCLE RUFUS' STORY OF THE CHRISTMAS GOOSE
"Trix is going to stay all night with Carrie. If we go back she will
only laugh at us," Ruth Kenway said, decidedly.
"We-ell," sighed Agnes. "I don't want to give that mean thing a chance
to laugh. We can't really get lost out here, can we, Neale?"
"I don't see how we can," said Neale, slowly. "I'm game to go ahead if
you girls are."
"It looks to me just as bad to go back," Ruth observed.
"Come on!" cried Agnes, and started forward again through the snow.
And, really, they might just as well keep on as to go back. They must be
half way to the edge of Milton by this time, all three were sure.
The "swish, swish, swish" of the slanting snow was all they heard save
their own voices. The falling particles deadened all sound, and they
might have been alone in a wilderness as far as the presence of other
human beings was made known to them.
"Say!" grumbled Neale, "she said there was a brook here somewhere--at
the bottom of a hollow."
"Well, we've been going down hill for some time," Ruth remarked. "It
must be near by now."
"Is--isn't there a--a bridge over it?" quavered Agnes.
"A culvert that we can walk over," said Neale. "Let me go ahead. Don't
you girls come too close behind me."
"But, goodness, Neale!" cried Agnes. "We mustn't lose sight of you."
"I'm not going to run away from you."
"But you're the last boy on earth--as far as we can see," chuckled
Agnes. "You have suddenly become very precious."
Neale grinned. "Get you once to the old Corner House and neither of you
would care if you didn't ever see a boy again," he said.
He had not gone on five yards when the girls, a few paces behind, heard
him suddenly shout. Then followed a great splashing and floundering
about.
"Oh! oh! Neale!" shrieked Agnes. "Have you gone under?"
"No! But I've gone through," growled the boy. "I've busted through a
thin piece of ice. Here's the brook all right; you girls stay where you
are. I can see the culvert."
He came back to them, sopping wet to his knees. In a few moments the
lower part of his limbs and his feet were encased in ice.
"You'll get your death of cold, Neale," cried Ruth, worriedly.
"No, I won't, Ruth. Not if I keep moving. And that's what we'd all
better do. Come on," the boy said. "I know the way after we cross this
brook. There is an unfinished street leads right into town. Comes out
there by your store building--where those Italian kids live."
"Oh! If Mrs. Kranz should be up," gasped Agnes, "she'd take us in and
let you dry your feet, Neale."
"We'll get her up," declared Ruth. "She's as good-hearted as she can be,
and she won't mind."
"But it's midnight," chattered Neale, beginning to feel the chill.
They hurried over the culvert and along the rough street. Far ahead
there was an arc light burning on the corner of Meadow Street. But not a
soul was astir in the neighborhood as the trio came nearer to the German
woman's grocery store, and the corner where Joe Maroni, the father of
Maria, had his vegetable and fruit stand.
The Italians were all abed in their miserable quarters below the street
level; but there was a lamp alight behind the shade of Mrs. Kranz's
sitting room. Agnes struggled ahead through the drifts and the falling
snow, and tapped at the window.
There were startled voices at once behind the blind. The window had a
number of iron bars before it and was supposed to be burglar-proof.
Agnes tapped again, and then the shade moved slightly.
"Go avay! Dere iss noddings for you here yedt!" exclaimed Mrs. Kranz,
threateningly. "Go avay, or I vill de berlice call."
They saw her silhouette on the blind. But there was another shadow, too,
and when this passed directly between the lamp and the window, the girls
saw that it was Maria Maroni. Maria often helped Mrs. Kranz about the
house, and sometimes remained with her all night.
"Oh, Maria! Maria Maroni!" shrieked Agnes, knocking on the pane again.
"Let us in--_do_!"
The Italian girl flew to the window and ran up the shade, despite the
expostulations of Mrs. Kranz, who believed that the party outside were
troublesome young folk of the neighborhood.
But when she knew who they were--and Maria identified them
immediately--the good lady lumbered to the side door of the store
herself, and opened it wide to welcome Ruth and Agnes, with their boy
friend.
"Coom in! Coom in by mine fire," she cried. "Ach! der poor kinder oudt
in dis vedder yedt. Idt iss your deaths mit cold you vould catch--no?"
Ruth explained to the big-hearted German widow how they came to be
struggling in the storm at such an hour.
"Undt dot boy iss vet? Ach! Ledt him his feet dake off qvick! Maria!
make de chocolate hot. Undt de poy--ach! I haf somedings py mine closet
in, for _him_."
She bustled away to reappear in a moment with a tiny glass of something
that almost strangled Neale when he drank it, but, as he had to admit,
"it warmed 'way down to the ends of his toes!"
"Oh, this is _fine_!" Agnes declared, ten minutes later, when she was
sipping her hot chocolate. "I _love_ the snow--and this was almost like
getting lost in a blizzard."
Mrs. Kranz shook her head. "Say nodt so--say nodt so," she rumbled. "Dis
iss pad yedt for de poor folk. Yah! idt vill make de coal go oop in
brice."
"Yes," said Maria, softly. "My papa says he will have to charge twelve
cents a pail for coal to-morrow, instead of ten. He has to pay more."
"I never thought of _that_ side of it," confessed Agnes, slowly. "I
suppose a snow storm like this _will_ make it hard for poor people."
"Undt dere iss blenty poor folk all about us," said Mrs. Kranz, shaking
her head. "Lucky you are, dot you know noddings about idt."
"Why shouldn't we know something about it?" demanded Ruth, quickly. "Do
you mean there will be much suffering among _our_ tenants because of
this storm, Mrs. Kranz?"
"Gott sie dank! nodt for _me_," said the large lady, shaking her head.
"Undt not for Maria's fadder. Joe Maroni iss doin' vell. But many are
nodt so--no. Undt der kinder----"
"Let's give them all a Christmas," exclaimed Ruth, having a sudden
bright, as well as kind, thought. "I'll ask Mr. Howbridge. You shall
tell us of those most in need, Mrs. Kranz--you and Maria."
"Vell dem poor Goronofskys iss de vorst," declared the grocery-store
woman, shaking her head.
Ruth and Agnes remembered the reported riches in Sadie Goronofsky's
bank, but although they looked at each other, they said nothing about
it.
"Sadie has an awful hard time," said Maria.
"De sthep-mudder does nodt treat her very kindly----Oh, I know! She has
so many kinder of her own. Sadie vork all de time ven she iss de school
oudt."
They discussed the other needy neighbors for half an hour longer. Then
Neale put on his dried shoes and stockings, tied his trouser-legs around
his ankles, and announced himself ready to go. The girls were well
protected to their knees by leggings, so they refused to remain for the
night at Mrs. Kranz's home.
They set out bravely to finish their journey to the old Corner House.
Some of the drifts were waist deep and the wind had begun to blow. "My!
but I'm glad we're not over on those flats now," said Agnes.
It was almost one o'clock when they struggled through the last drift and
reached the back door of the old Corner House. Uncle Rufus, his feet on
the stove-hearth, was sleeping in his old armchair, waiting up for them.
"Oh, Uncle Rufus! you ought to be abed," cried Ruth.
"You've lost your beauty sleep, Uncle Rufus," added Agnes.
"Sho', chillen, dis ain't nottin' fo' ol' Unc' Rufus. He sit up many a
night afore dis. An' somebody has ter watch de Christmas goose."
"Oh! The Christmas goose?" cried Agnes. "Has it come?"
"You wanter see him, chillen?" asked the old colored man, shuffling to
the door. "Looker yere."
They followed him to the woodshed door. There, roosting on one leg and
blinking at them in the lamplight, was a huge gray goose. It hissed
softly at them, objecting to their presence, and they went back into the
warm kitchen.
"Why does it stand that way--on one leg--Uncle Rufus?" asked Agnes.
"Perhaps it's resting the other foot," Ruth said, laughing.
"Maybe it has only one leg," Neale observed.
At that Uncle Rufus began chuckling enormously to himself. His eyes
rolled, and his cheeks "blew out," and he showed himself to be very
"tickled."
The door latch clicked and here appeared Tess and Dot in their warm
robes and slippers. They had managed to wake up when the big girls and
Neale came in, and had now stolen down to hear about the party.
Mrs. MacCall had left a nice little lunch, and a pot of cocoa to warm
them up. The girls gathered their chairs in a half circle about the
front of the kitchen range, with Neale, and while Uncle Rufus got the
refreshments ready, Ruth and Agnes told their sisters something about
the barn dance.
But Neale had his eye on the old colored man. "What's the matter,
Uncle?" he asked. "What's amusing you so much?"
"I done been t'inkin' ob 'way back dar befo' de wah--yas-sir. I done
been t'inkin' ob das Christmas goose--he! he! he! das de funniest
t'ing----"
"Oh, tell us about it, Uncle Rufus!" cried Ruth.
"Do tell us," added Agnes, "for we're not a bit sleepy yet."
"Make room for Uncle Rufus' armchair," commanded Ruth. "Come, Uncle
Rufus: we're ready."
Nothing loath the old fellow settled into his creaking chair and looked
into the glowing coals behind the grated fire-box door.
"Disher happen' befo' de wah," he said, slowly. "I warn't mo' dan a
pickerninny--jes' knee-high to a mus'rat, as yo' might say. But I kin
member ol' Mars' Colby's plantation de bery yeah befo' de wah.
"Well, chillen, as I was sayin', disher Christmas I kin 'member lak' it
was yestidy. My ol' mammy was de sho' 'nuff cook at de big house, an'
Mars' Colby t'ought a heap ob her. But she done tuk down wid de mis'ry
in her back jes' two days fore Christmas--an' de big house full ob
comp'ny!
"Sech a gwine 'bout yuh nebber _did_ see, w'en mammy say she couldn't
cook de w'ite folkses' dinner. Dere was a no-'count yaller gal, Sally
Alley dey call her, wot he'ped erbout de breakfas' an' sech; but she
warn't a sho' 'nuff cook--naw'm!
"She 'lowed she was. She was de beatenes' gal for t'inkin' she knowed
eberyt'ing. But, glo-_ree_! dar wasn't nobody on dat plantation wot
could cook er goose tuh suit Mars' Colby lak' my ol' mammy.
"And de goose dey'd picked out fo' dat Christmas dinner sho' was a noble
bird--ya-as'm! Dere was an army ob geese aroun' de pond, but de one
dey'd shet up fo' two weeks, an' fed soft fodder to wid er spoon, was de
noblest ob de ban'," said Uncle Rufus, unctuously.
"Well, dar warn't time tuh send on to Richmon' fo' a sho' 'nuff cook,
an' de dinnah pahty was gaddered togedder. So Mars' Colby had ter let
dat uppity yaller gal go ahead an' do her worstest.
"She sho' done it," said Uncle Rufus, shaking his head. "Dar nebber was
sech anudder dinner sarbed on de Colby table befo' dat time, nor, since.
"My mammy, a-layin' on her back in de quahtahs, an' groanin', sent me up
to de big house kitchen tuh watch. I was big 'nuff to he'p mammy, and it
was in dat kitchen I begin ter l'arn ter be a house sarbent.
"Well, chillen, I kep' my two eyes open, an' I sabed de sauce from
burnin', an' de roun' 'taters from bilin' over, an' de onions from
sco'chin' an' de sweet-er-taters f'om bein' charcoal on one side an'
baked raw on de odder. Glo-_ree_! dat was one 'citin' day in dat
kitchen.
"But I couldn't sabe de goose from bein' sp'ilt. Dat was beyon' my
powah. An' it happen disher way:
"De yaller gal git de goose all stuffed an' fixed propah, fo' she done
use my mammy's resate fo' stuffin'. But de no-'count critter set it
right down in de roastin' pan on de flo' by de po'ch door. Eroun' come
snuffin' a lean houn' dawg, one ob de re'l ol' 'nebber-git enuff' breed.
He's empty as er holler stump--er, he! he! he!" chuckled Uncle Rufus.
"Glo-_ree_! dar allus was a slather of sech houn's aroun' dat
plantation, fo' Mars' Colby was a fox huntah.
"Dat dawg git his eye on dat goose for jes' a secon'--an' de nex' secon'
he grab hit by de laig!
"Lawsy me! My soul an' body!" chortled Uncle Rufus, rocking himself to
and fro in his chair in an ecstasy of enjoyment. "How dem niggers did
squeal! Dar was more'n 'nuff boys an' gals 'roun' undah foot at dat
time, but none ob dem git near de fracas but Unc' Rufus--naw'm!"
"My goodness! the dog didn't get away with the goose, did he, Uncle
Rufus?" asked Ruth.
"I's a-comin' tuh dat--I's a-comin' tuh dat," repeated the old man. "I
seen de goose gwine out de do', an' I grab hit--I sho' did! I grab it by
de two wingses, an' I hang on liker chigger. De odder pickaninnies jes'
a jumpin' eroun' an er-hollerin'. But Unc' Rufus knowed better'n _dat_.
"Dat houn' dawg, he pull, an' I pull, an' it sho' a wondah we didn' pull
dat bird all apaht betwixt us. But erbout de secon' wrench dat hongry
beast gib, he pull de laig clean off'n dat ol' goose!
"Glo-_ree_!" chuckled Uncle Rufus, rolling his eyes and weaving back and
forth on his chair, in full enjoyment of his own story. "Glo-_ree_! Dat
is a 'casion I ain't nebber lak'ly tuh fo'git. Dar I was on my back on
de kitchen flo', wid de goose on top ob me, w'ile de houn'-dawg beat it
erway from dar er mile-er-minit--ya-as'm!
"Dat yaller gal jerked dat goose out'n my arms an' put hit back in de
pan, an clapped de pan inter de oven. 'Wedder hit's got one laig, or
two,' says she, 'dat's de onliest one de w'ite folkses has got fo' dey's
dinner."
"An dat was true 'nuff--true 'nuff," said Uncle Rufus. "But I begin tuh
wondah wot Mars' Colby say 'bout dat los' laig? He was right quick wid
hes temper, an' w'en hes mad was up----Glo-_ree_! he made de quahtahs
_hot_! I wondah wot he do to dat yaller gal w'en dat raggedty goose come
on de table.
"It done got cooked to a tu'n--ya-as! I nebber see a browner, nor a
plumper goose. An' w'en dat Sally Alley done lay him on hes side, wid de
los' laig _down_, hit was jes' a pitcher--jes' a pitcher!" declared
Uncle Rufus, reminiscent yet of the long past feast-day.
"Wal, dar warn't ne'der ob de waitresses willin' tuh tak' dat goose in
an' put it down befo' Mars' Colby--naw'm! So dat yaller gal had to put
on a clean han'kercher an' ap'on, an' do it her own se'f. I was jes'
leetle 'nuff so I crope th'u de do' an' hides behin' de co'nah ob de
sidebo'd.
"I was moughty cur'ous," confessed Uncle Rufus. "I wanted tuh know jes'
wot Mars' Colby say w'en he fin' dat goose ain' got but one laig on
him."
"And what did he say, Uncle Rufus?" asked Agnes, breathless with
interest like the other listeners.
"Das is wot I is a-comin' to. You be patient, chile," chuckled Uncle
Rufus.
"Dar was de long table, all set wid shinin' silber, an' glistenin' cut
glass, an' de be-you-ti-ful ol' crockery dat Madam Colby--das Mars'
Colby's gre't-gran-mammy--brought f'om Englan'. Dar was ten plates
beside de famb'ly.
"De waitresses am busy, a-flyin' eroun' wid de side dishes, an' Mis'
Colby, she serbs at her side ob de table, w'en Mars' Colby, he get up
tuh carve.
"'Wot paht ob de goose is yo' mos' fon' of, Miss Lee?' he say to de
young lady on hes right han', monst'ous perlite lak.
"'I'd lak' a slice ob de laig, Cunnel,' she say; 't'ank yo'.'"
Uncle Rufus was surely enjoying himself. He was imitating "the quality"
with great gusto. His eyes rolled, his sides shook, and his brown face
was all one huge smile.
"De bery nex' lady he ax dat same question to, mak' de same reply," went
on Uncle Rufus, "an' Mars' Colby done cut all de laig meat erway on dat
side. Den it come ergin. Somebody else want er piece ob de secon' j'int.
"Mars' Colby stick his fo'k in de goose an' heave him over in de
plattah. Glo-_ree_! dar de under side ob dat goose were all nice an'
brown; but dar warn't no sign ob a laig erpon hit!
"'Wha' dis? Wha' dis?' Mars' Colby cry. 'Who been a-tamperin' wid dis
goose? Sen' dat no-'count Sally Alley in yeah dis minute!' he say to one
ob de waitresses.
"Glo-_ree_! how scar't we all was. My knees shak' tergedder, an' I bit
my tongue tryin' ter hol' my jaws shet. W'en Mars' Colby done let
loose----well!" and Uncle Rufus sighed.
"Den dey come back wid Sally Alley. If eber dar was a scar't nigger on
dat plantation, it was dat same yaller gal. An' she warn't saddle color
no mo'; she was grayer in de face dan an ol' rat.
"Dey stan' her up befo' Mars' Colby, an' hes eyes look lak' dey was
red--ya-as'm! 'Sally Alley,' he roar at her, 'whar de odder laig ob dis
goose?'
"Sally Alley shake like a willer by de ribber, an' she blurt out: 'Mars'
Colby! sho' 'nuff dar warn't no odder laig _on_ dat goose.'
"'Wha' dat?' say he, moughty savage. 'On'y _one_ laig on dis goose?'
"'Ya-as, suh--sho' 'nuff. Das de onliest laig it had,' says she.
"'What do yo' mean?' Mars' Colby cry. 'Yo' tell me my goose ain' hab but
one laig?'
"'Ya-as, suh. Das hit. On'y one laig,' says dat scar't yaller gal, an'
ter clinch it she added, '_All_ yo' geese dat a-ways, Mars' Colby. Dey
all ain' got but one laig.'"
"Oh!" squealed Dot.
"Was it sure enough _so_, Uncle Rufus?" asked Tess, in awe.
"Yo' wait! yo' wait, chillen! I'se gittin' tuh dat," declared the old
man, chuckling. "Co'se dat Sally Alley say dat, hysterical lak'. She was
dat scar't. Mars' Colby scowl at her mo' awful.
"'I mak' yo' prove dat to me atter dinner,' he say, savage as he kin be.
'Yo'll tak' us all out dar an' show us my one-laiged geese. An' if it
_ain't_ so, I'll send yo' to de fiel' oberseer.'
"De fiel' oberseer do de whippin' on dat plantation," whispered Uncle
Rufus, "an' Sally Alley knowed wot dat meant."
"Oh, dear me!" cried tender-hearted Tess. "They didn't re'lly _beat_
her?"
"Don't try to get ahead of the story, Tess," said Agnes, but rather
shakingly. "We'll all hear it together."
"Das it," said Uncle Rufus. "Jes' gib Unc' Rufus time an' he'll tell it
all. Dat yaller gal sho' was in a fix. She don' know w'ich way to tu'n.
"Das dinner was a-gettin' nearer an' nearer to de en'. Mars' Colby do
lak' he say den. He come out an' mak' Sally Alley show de one-laiged
geese.
"'I has a po'erful min',' dat Sally gal say, 'ter go down dar an' chop
er laig off'n ebery goose in de yard.'
"But she didn't hab no min' to do dat," pursued Uncle Rufus. "Naw'm. She
didn't hab no min' for nottin', she was dat flabbergastuated.
"She t'ink she run erway; but she wouldn't git far befo' Mars' Colby be
atter her wid de houn's. Dar ain't no place to run to, an' she ain't got
no mammy, so she run tuh mine," said Uncle Rufus, shaking his head. "An'
my mammy was a wise ol' woman. She done been bawn in de Colby famb'ly,
an' she know Mars' Colby better dan he know he'self. Fiery as he was,
she know dat if yo' kin mak' him laff, he'd fo'give a nigger 'most
anyt'ing.
"So my ol' mammy tol' Sally Alley wot tuh say an' do. Sally wipe her
eyes an' mak' herse'f neat erg'in, an' wa'k up ter de big house brave as
a lion--in de seemin'--jes' as de gran' folkses comes out upon de lawn.
"'Here, yo',' 'sclaim Mars' Colby, we'n he see her. 'Yo' come an' show
me all dem one-laiged geese.'
"'Ya-as, Mars',' says Sally Alley, an' she haid right off fo' de goose
pon'. Dar was de whole flock roostin' erlong de aidge ob de pon'--an'
all wid one foot drawed up in deir fedders lak' dat goose roostin' out
dar in dat woodshed dis bressed minute!
"'Wot I tell yo'? Wot I tell yo', Mars' Colby?' cry Sally Alley. 'Ain't
all dem gooses got one laig lak' I tol' yo'?'
"But Mars' stride right ober to de fence an' clap hes han's. Ebery one
o' dem geese puts down hes foot an' tu'ns to look at him.
"'Das ain' no fair! das ain' no fair, Mars' Colby!' squeals dat yaller
gal, all 'cited up. '_Yo' didn't clap yo' han's at dat goose on de
table!_'--er, he! he! he!" And so Uncle Rufus finished the story of the
Christmas goose.
Ruth started the younger ones to bed immediately; but Tess called down
from the stair:
"Uncle Rufus! He _didn't_ make her go see the field overseer, did he?"
"Sho'ly not, chile. Dat wasn' Cunnel Mark Colby's way. My ol' mammy
knowed wot would han'le him. He done give one big laff, an' sent Sally
Alley off to Aunt Jinny, de housekeeper, tuh cut her off a new kaliker
dress pattern. But dem quality folkses sho' was tickled erbout dat
one-laiged goose."