CHRISTMAS
Every day in the year has the same number of hours, but some days skim
past like an automobile and some creep like a snail at a gallop. The days
between Thanksgiving and Christmas are of the motor-car variety. There
is so much to do, and to think of, that people can scarcely believe the
clock. Lucy and Dora were as busy with their plans as were the grown
people.
Dora made several pretty calendars for gifts. She hemmed a duster for
Miss Chandler and another for Mother. She thought Miss Chandler would
find use for a duster in her three rooms, especially a cream-white one,
feather-stitched all around in blue.
Mrs. Merrill suggested this gift and she thought Dora took a good while
to make it. She did not know that Dora made a second one, precisely like
the first. She made it under Mother’s very nose, and Mother never saw
it. Lucy and Dora both thought this was very funny, and could not help
laughing, but it never occurred to Mrs. Merrill that the duster Dora was
working on was not always the same one.
On Christmas eve there was a church service. Miss Page asked her class to
come early. This was an important occasion because the mite-boxes for the
hungry children in other countries were to be collected.
Mr. and Mrs. Merrill were going with the children, but they would sit in
the back of the church. Lucy and Dora were to sit with their class. The
class was to sit in pew twenty-eight.
There had been many things to do that afternoon, and nobody looked out
until they started for church. When the door shut behind the Merrill
family, everybody was surprised.
Christmas came on a moonlight night that year, but in addition to the
moon, at almost every house the porch light was shining, and the ordinary
electric bulbs had been unscrewed and red ones substituted. All up and
down the streets shone the pretty red lights.
“Oh, Mother!” said Lucy. “I wish our house had one. But it is only gas,
and none at all on the porch.”
Mrs. Merrill thought a minute. The red lights did look pretty. In the
front windows of the brown cottage hung Christmas wreaths but there was
no light behind them.
“Wait for me a bit,” she said, and she went back into the cottage.
Lucy and Dora wondered what she was going to do. A group of young people
went by. They were singing softly and Father began to sing with them.
When Father was a young man, he used to belong to the choir.
“It came upon the midnight clear,
That glorious song of old,
Of angels bending near the earth,
To touch their harps of gold.”
_What_ was Mother doing? She had lighted the lamp on the parlor table,
but what was keeping her now?
“Still through the cloven skies they come,
With peaceful wings unfurled:
And still their heavenly music floats
O’er all the weary world.”
Dora looked up at the sky. The moon was so bright that only the largest
stars could show to-night. There was Orion with his flaming belt and
sword. Dora knew several star-groups now. She and Uncle Dan and Olive had
gone out one night with a flash-light and the star-book from the Public
Library and traced them. Still, Mrs. Merrill did not come.
“Father,” asked Dora, “do you think angels come down to earth now?”
“If they ever come, it is at Christmas,” said Father, and he went on
humming the words which were now faint in the distance.
“O rest beside the weary road,
And hear the angels sing.”
Suddenly the windows of the Merrill parlor turned a warm crimson. From
them streamed a soft red light.
“Oh, look, Father! Look, Dora!” exclaimed Lucy. “Now, we have a red
light, too!”
“I thought Mother would fix it somehow,” said Mr. Merrill.
Mrs. Merrill came out while the children were still exclaiming. “How did
you do it?” Dora asked.
“With Dan’s red silk scarf,” said Mrs. Merrill, pulling on her gloves
again, and looking back at the pretty light.
“Safe against fire, Molly?” asked Mr. Merrill. “We wouldn’t like to go to
church and come home to find the house burned.”
“It can’t take fire,” said Mrs. Merrill.
The minute they entered the vestibule, spicy smells of spruce and
evergreen greeted them. The church was warm and all the rafters were
draped with festoons of green. The only light was in the chancel and what
came from two big Christmas trees on either side of the chancel arch.
They were strung with wee red bulbs, and at the top of each tree shone a
star. Between the trees stood the manger for the gifts.
When the choir came, in place of their usual white cottas, they wore
bright red ones. How Christmas-y the church did seem!
There were carols and Christmas hymns and then one by one, the classes
took up their mite-boxes and placed them in the manger. People had
brought other gifts for the poor. All the children looked over their toys
and selected something to go to the Children’s Hospital.
Lucy chose a doll of which she was not very fond. Dora brought a set of
blocks, which she liked very much. She did not often play with them now,
but because she had enjoyed them so much herself, she thought children
who were not very sick—just beginning to get better—might care for them.
The Christmas eve service did not last long, but it left everybody with a
pleasant and peaceful feeling.
All the red lights were yet burning and almost every house had wreaths in
the front windows. The children were pleased as they came near the brown
cottage to hear people speak of how pretty the red lamp looked.
“You’ll let it burn a long time, won’t you, Mother?” begged Dora.
“It may burn until Father and I go to bed,” said Mrs. Merrill. “You
children had better be off early, so as to give Santa Claus a chance.”
“There is to be a surprise for _you_, to-morrow,” said Dora, and she and
Lucy both giggled.
“There will be surprises for everybody,” said Mrs. Merrill, “but I think
the biggest one will be for Dora.”
When Mother said this Dora almost flew up in the air. On any time but
Christmas eve, she could not have borne the suspense. But she would know
early in the morning.
Mr. Merrill unlocked the door and they all went into the cosy house. And
there, on a table near the parlor door, stood a fairy Christmas tree!
It was only about eighteen inches high, planted in a flower-pot full of
sand. At the top shone a silvery star, and from the star dropped webs
that looked as though very large spiders had been spinning silver lace.
Through the shimmery mist showed the green branches.
The tree had not been there when they went to church! The children stared
in surprise and danced about the room. It was not until they had jumped
around for a minute or two that they saw Mother was as surprised as
anybody. She looked at the lovely tree and then at Father.
“I didn’t do it, Molly,” he said smiling.
“But you know who did,” said Mrs. Merrill.
“Cross my heart, I don’t,” declared Father.
How Lucy and Dora laughed to hear him say this. They looked again at the
wee tree. Red candies were tied to its branches with silver cord, and
white sugar-plums with red string. That was all the fruit it bore.
“Now, didn’t you put it there yourself, Mother?” asked Mr. Merrill. “When
you went back to light the lamp?”
“I didn’t,” said Mrs. Merrill. “It wasn’t there then and I never saw it
before, and the house has been locked all the time we were at church.”
“It _is_ odd how a Christmas tree could get into a locked house,” agreed
Mr. Merrill. “Had we better report it to the police?”
“I wouldn’t go so far as that,” said Mrs. Merrill. “Here’s Dan. He may
know.”
“I was at church,” protested Dan. “Didn’t you see me singing in the choir
in a very fancy rig?”
“Uncle Dan,” said Dora, “did you ever _see_ that tree before?”
“How can I tell?” said Dan. “There have been several hundred Christmas
trees in the square this past week. I don’t know one from another.”
Dora held him firmly. “Did you put that tree in here?” she asked.
“I did not,” said Dan.
“Did you unlock the door so somebody could bring it in?” Lucy asked.
“I did not,” said Dan.
The children looked at each other. Then Dora had a bright idea.
“Uncle Dan,” she demanded, “did you _lend_ your key to somebody while you
went to church?”
“I have answered three questions and that is enough!” said Dan. And he
never did answer that one.
All the family hung up their stockings. Lucy and Dora put theirs on the
brass knobs either side of the open stove. Mr. and Mrs. Merrill fastened
theirs to the ends of the sofa. Uncle Dan went out again, but Dora hung
his sock to the back of Mother’s rocking-chair. She and Lucy took one
last look at the fairy tree and went to bed.
They didn’t talk and giggle more than any little sisters do on Christmas
eve and they went to sleep before Mrs. Merrill expected. In less than an
hour she put out the red lamp.
It was still dark when Dora woke but a great star was looking through the
open window. It was so big and so bright that it seemed like the real
star of Bethlehem, shining to guide the shepherds to where the little
Jesus lay.
The star was so beautiful that Dora looked at it instead of wondering
about her stocking. That could wait, but the star would fade with the
dawn. She watched it a long time and saw the sky gradually grow lighter
and the star less distinct.
[Illustration: A GREAT STAR WAS LOOKING THROUGH THE OPEN WINDOW—_Page
220._]
Just as she was having hard work to see the star, Lucy woke. “Merry
Christmas, Dora!” she exclaimed. “Let’s get up and look at our stockings.”
Lucy hustled down the steep stairs, but Dora opened the door of Uncle
Dan’s room and looked in. Only his black head showed above the blankets.
The window was wide open and the room freezing cold, but Dora ran in,
kissed Uncle Dan’s cheek and whispered “Merry Christmas!” in his ear.
Dan woke and looked at her. “Get back to bed,” he said. “You’ll catch
your death.” And then he said, “Merry Christmas, Dora!”
When Dora reached the foot of the stairs, Mr. Merrill jumped out from
behind the door to his room and gave her a big hug and a Christmas
greeting.
Father came into the parlor, he _said_ to make the fire burn better for
the children, but Mother came the next moment, and she didn’t give _any_
excuse for coming. Most mothers and fathers like to see the Christmas
stockings opened.
The stockings were knobby and puffed and would be most uncomfortable to
wear if they should stay that shape. Some packages were too big even to
go in. These were on the floor under the stockings.
Lucy and Dora began to open the gifts, and everything they opened they
liked very much.
From Mother there was a pretty woolen cap and muffler, a brown set for
Lucy and a blue one for Dora. Both were much pleased, because all the
girls were wearing them.
Olive gave Lucy a box of pretty handkerchiefs and Dora some writing paper
with a blue M at the top. It was like some which Olive had at the beach
and which Dora admired. Olive’s paper was marked G.
Miss Page gave each a little New Testament. There was also from Miss Page
a cunning bouquet. At a distance it looked like a bunch of flowers, but
each flower was a bit of candy wrapped in oiled paper. About the bouquet
was some paper lace. Both Lucy and Dora were delighted.
Lucy liked her pincushion very much. She had made for Dora a little silk
bag in which to carry a purse or a handkerchief.
Uncle Dan gave each a box of candy, besides making the stage for the
marionettes. The stage was finished and painted. It stood back against
the parlor wall.
And as though Father were not making them a big present by whittling
the puppets for the theatre, he gave them each a book. Lucy’s was “When
Mother Lets Us Cook.”
Only the fact that she was not dressed kept Lucy from rushing into the
kitchen and trying a receipt. Besides, Mother said quite emphatically
that she wasn’t doing any “letting” at that hour in the morning. Later in
the day, she would see about it.
What do you think was the name of Dora’s book? She could scarcely believe
her eyes. When she did believe them, she could not speak, only look at
Father and then hug him hard.
Father had gone to the Public Library and asked Miss Perkins which book
Dora liked best. Miss Perkins remembered. Indeed, it would be strange
if she did not know, for Dora had borrowed the book five times since
September. Father had bought her the “Story of Doctor Dolittle.”
“It _was_ the biggest surprise, Mother!” Dora said, when she had thanked
Father again and again and looked at the pictures for about the fortieth
time.
“Oh, that isn’t the surprise,” said Mrs. Merrill.
“It _isn’t_!” said Dora. “What can it be?”
She got down from Father’s knee and took her limp stocking from the knob.
In the toe was still a small package.
In the toe of hers, Lucy had just found the white Chinese kitten and was
speechless with pleasure. She liked it better than Dora’s blue one.
“Because there really are white kittens,” she said.
“There are blue ones, too,” said Dora. “Aunt Margaret told me so. Blue
Persian cats.”
“I don’t think they are just like yours,” said Lucy.
Dora had never seen a Persian blue, so she did not say anything. Besides,
she was wondering what Miss Chandler had given her.
It was a little gold ring set with a blue stone which Mr. Merrill thought
was an aquamarine.
Dora didn’t care about the name, but she liked the ring exceedingly. She
slipped it on her finger. It just fitted.
“This must be the big surprise,” she said to Mother.
“The ring is a surprise to me,” said Mrs. Merrill, “for I didn’t know
what was in that package. But it is not the surprise I mean.”
Dora again felt her stocking and discovered a tiny wad of tissue paper.
She untwisted it and her eyes and mouth both opened.
“Mother!” she exclaimed after a second, “oh, Mother! Mother! is it really
Arcturus, my Arcturus? Where did he come from? Oh, Mother, my bear, my
own little silver bear!”
“You can never guess where we found him,” said Mrs. Merrill.
“Did somebody find him at the beach? Did Uncle Dan go over again?” asked
Lucy, as excited as Dora.
“Arcturus came home from the beach when we did,” said Mrs. Merrill. “He
has been in Westmore all the time, though not in our house.”
“Where was he?” Dora asked eagerly.
“He was found last week,” said Mrs. Merrill, “but I thought since it
was so near Christmas he might as well come back in your stocking. You
remember that I went to the church to help pack a missionary barrel?”
The children remembered perfectly. They had carried some shoes to the
church to go in that barrel.
“When we came to pack the things,” said Mrs. Merrill, “there was that
straw hat of Olive’s, the one with the pink roses. The flowers were
faded, but the hat was really too good for Olive to give away, and I told
her so.”
“While we were turning the hat about and looking at it,” Mrs. Merrill
went on, “Dora’s silver bear dropped out of a fold of velvet. I can’t
account for his getting into it, but that is where he was.”
The children knew how he got there. Lucy remembered picking up Olive’s
hat from the sand the very morning Arcturus ran away. All the time he was
hiding in the velvet, so the sifting of the sand didn’t make him appear.
“Arcturus has come home!” said Dora happily. “How nice that he came on
Christmas morning. I felt dreadfully when he ran away, but if he hadn’t,
probably I would never have had the Chinese kitten. I hope Arcturus won’t
be jealous of Vega.”
“Mother,” said Lucy, “it’s your turn now. You and Father open your
presents.”
“Not until I am dressed,” said Mrs. Merrill. “This sitting about in a
kimono is chilly work.”
“My feet _are_ cold,” Lucy admitted.
“You and Dora run and get into your clothes,” said Mrs. Merrill. “Come,
Father.”
Dora made no motion to start. “My feet are cold, too,” she said. “Father,
do you think if a person had only one foot, it could possibly be so cold
as two?”
“I’m sure I don’t know,” said Mr. Merrill.
“I will ask Uncle Dan,” said Dora. “And I must tell him that Arcturus has
come home. How surprised he will be! I can’t see how Uncle Dan can sleep
on Christmas morning. I woke him once, but he must have gone to sleep
again. Father, did you know that the star of Bethlehem was shining this
morning?”
“Over in the east?” asked Father Merrill. “Yes, Dora, I saw it.”
THE END