THE CHRISTMAS HOLIDAYS
The first day of the Xmas holidays had at last arrived and fifty-six
tired girls were busily packing trunks and bags. Nerves that had been
overstrained for the past couple of weeks had relaxed, and everywhere
there was the noise and excitement of leaving.
In Freshman corridor trunks were being jumped on and made to close, and
all the girls were exchanging addresses and exacting promises of letters
and visits.
"Oh, Lois," sighed Polly, taking her chum's arm and leading her to the
end of the corridor farthest away from the rest of the girls, "I do wish
you didn't live in Albany. Of course I'll be glad to see Uncle Roddy,
but I can't help feeling that vacation is going to be awful lonely."
"I know," replied Lois. "I wish we could be together; anyhow we can
write. Bet will be in New York and you will see her."
"Yes, but Bet's not you," Polly answered. "But let's cheer up. Why,
here's Betty now; speak of angels--looking for us?" she called.
"Oh, there you are; you're both wanted--Polly in the reception-room and
Lo in Mrs. Baird's office."
"Do you know what for?"
"No." But Betty's expression made both girls apprehensive.
"Wonder what's up," queried Lois as they ran down the broad staircase to
the main hall.
When Polly reached the reception hall she found Uncle Roddy with a big
fur coat over his arm, a cap in his hand, waiting for her.
"Hello, Tiddle-dy-winks; thought I'd plan a surprise for you, so I came
up in the motor to take you home. It's a glorious day. If there are any
girls you care to bring along, why--"
But Uncle Roddy's explanation of his unexpected arrival was cut short by
Polly's violent hug and kiss.
"Uncle Roddy, what a darling you are!" she exclaimed. "I'll get ready
this minute and see who I can get to go with us." And she flew back to
the corridor.
As she stood in her room throwing the remaining leftovers into her
trunk, Lois came in and threw herself on the bed, in tears.
"Polly, Bobbie has typhoid and I can't go home," she sobbed. "Father
wired Mrs. Baird. Poor darling Bob!" Her voice was muffled in the
pillow.
Polly's joy in Uncle Roddy's surprise was forgotten as she tried to
comfort her friend.
After Lois had left the office, Mrs. Baird returned to the
reception-room where she had left Uncle Roddy.
"Did Marianna find you all right, Mr. Pendleton?" she asked. "Such a
distressing thing has just happened! Dr. Farwell wired me that his son
has typhoid and Lois will have to remain here for the vacation. I am
sorry, for the child needed a change."
Then it was that Uncle Roddy had an inspiration. The thought of amusing
Polly during the vacation had worried him. Several ladies of his
acquaintance had promised to take her about, but that had not reassured
him. Now if there were two of them, they would amuse each other, and
under the able care of Mrs. Bent, his worthy housekeeper, all would be
well.
It was a matter of a few minutes to lay the plan before Mrs. Baird and,
with her help, to reach Dr. Farwell by long distance telephone. Over the
wire the two men renewed their acquaintance of college days and the
doctor was only too delighted to give his consent.
In less than an hour the two girls were wrapped up in countless fur
robes in the back seat of Uncle Roddy's comfortable car, while that
relieved gentleman was at the wheel, and the chauffeur, always along in
case of tire trouble, occupied the seat beside him.
As it was twelve o'clock when they started, Uncle Roddy suggested
luncheon at the hotel in the village. That was lark number one. The food
was terrible, but Uncle Roddy was so funny the way he imitated the
waiter and teased the big green parrot, that as long as the food was
filling, it didn't matter about the taste.
On the road they had two tires blow out, and as the second happened just
on the outskirts of Irvington-on-the-Hudson, home of Rip Van Winkle,
Uncle Roddy suggested dinner at the Sleepy Hollow Inn. They had the most
delicious muffins, and pork chops with apple sauce, and very black
coffee. That was lark number two.
But best of all was the getting home at ten o'clock. Uncle Roddy lived
on Riverside Drive in a big apartment, with Mr. and Mrs. Bent, his
housekeeper and butler.
Polly had stayed with him for three months before going to school and
knew the lay of the land. She led the way to the big guest room that she
had occupied, but instead of the gray walls and sedate old mahogany
furniture that she remembered, imagine her surprise at finding soft
cream walls with a border of nodding yellow daffodils and the most
adorable ivory-colored furniture.
Lois broke the amazed silence by demanding:
"Polly, what a beautiful room; why did you never tell me about it?"
But Polly was speechless with delight as she stood looking, first at the
big double bed with the carved roses at the head and foot and next at
the dressing-table with its dainty silver brushes and combs and Dresden
china candlesticks. A slender-legged table with a bowl of yellow
tea-roses on it stood beside the bed, and the walls were hung with
colored prints of Greuze's "Girl with the Broken Pitcher" and "The Milk
Maid," Reynolds' darling portrait of "Penelope" and "The Boy with the
Rabbit."
Polly, in the days of Aunt Hannah and her four-posted beds and crazy
quilts, had dreamed of a room such as this. Finally she managed to
answer Lois' question.
"I didn't know about it myself, till this very minute," she gasped. "Oh,
Uncle Roddy, it's beautiful! I never saw anything half so lovely!"
"I wanted you to feel at home, dear child, and now I think you had both
better get to sleep." And after renewed thanks and good-night kisses, he
left them.
A second later Mrs. Bent tiptoed in with a broad smile that took in the
whole world.
"You're hungry, I'm sure, my dears. I'll have some hot chocolate ready
for you when you get into bed; just ring when you want it."
Polly and Lois hugged each other for joy and after taking a
disgracefully long time to undress, they finally fell asleep over their
chocolate and cakes.
* * * * *
The two weeks of Christmas vacation was an unending good time; every
minute was full. The mornings were spent chiefly in bed, for Mrs. Bent
brought them their breakfast and sat to chat.
Sometimes they lunched down-town with Uncle Roddy and sometimes they
motored through Central Park, or, with Mrs. Bent for chaperone, wandered
through the stores, and as the old Scotch woman could refuse them
nothing, they did pretty much as they chose.
Uncle Roddy came home at four o'clock and always with bonbons and
theater tickets.
It would be useless to try and recount all their doings, so you will
have to be contented with the descriptions of the good times that
pleased them most.
One was Lois' box party for "Peter Pan." Dr. Farwell had written that
the seats were in her name at the box office for Saturday matinée, and
the question arose whom to ask.
"There's Betty, of course," said Lois. "We'll phone her this morning;
and Angela and Connie live in New Jersey and we ought to be able to get
them."
Betty's home was reached and her voice sounded over the wire in reply to
Lois' invitation:
"Come? You bet I will! What a lark!"
"Ask her for luncheon," called Polly. Then hurriedly to Mrs. Bent: "It
will be all right, won't it?"
"Indeed it will, my lamb; any one you like; it's only too happy I am to
see a little life now and then," answered that devoted woman.
When the receiver was hung up it was arranged that Betty would be at the
apartment Saturday morning. Angela and Connie had another engagement and
couldn't possibly come.
"That's too bad, Lo. Who can you ask now?"
Lois looked puzzled for a minute and then exclaimed:
"I have it! Why can't Uncle Roddy" (she had called him Uncle since the
dinner at the Sleepy Hollow Inn), "and that funny man, Mr. Whittington,
come?"
No sooner said than done. The long-suffering operator connected them
with the office in Wall Street occupied by George B. Whittington,
broker. He was a little taken back at the invitation, but answered that
he would be "pleased as punch and would meet them at the theater." Uncle
Roddy also accepted with pleasure.
Betty arrived Saturday morning, and the three of them chattered like
magpies until luncheon. They drove to the theater in the motor and found
the two men there to meet them. Betty was introduced to Mr. Whittington
and she nicknamed him The Lord Mayor of London at once, after Dick of
the same name in the nursery tales. By the time the curtain went up they
were the best of friends.
Of course they adored _Peter Pan_ and _Wendy_. They laughed a good deal
and cried a little and waved their handkerchiefs madly when _Peter_
asked them if they believed in fairies.
"This is quite the nicest party I ever attended," Mr. Whittington
insisted as the curtain fell after the last act. "Why can't we have
another one just like it, soon?"
"But, Mr. Lord Mayor of London," interrupted Betty, "where would we ever
find another _Peter Pan_?"
"Just leave that to me. I know the very thing, but I'm not going to tell
you a word about it. You must all be my guests for next Wednesday night.
How about it?"
Everybody was of course delighted and accepted at once.
Wednesday night finally arrived and with it another jolly party. Mr.
Whittington's surprise turned out to be the Russian Ballet, and as the
girls watched the fascinating première danseuse as _Pupin Fee_ (fairy
doll) in that charming story dance, they were wild with delight, and
Polly openly transferred her affection from _Peter Pan_. Lois remained
faithful, and Betty never could make up her mind which one she loved the
better.
"She might just as well be talking," exclaimed Polly between acts. "I
know just what she's thinking with every move she makes. Oh, isn't she
precious!"
"I know what the next composition I write for Miss Porter will be
about," announced Betty.
"Oh, Bet, for pity sake stop talking about school. I'm in fairy land and
I don't want to come back," Lois begged. "There goes the curtain up for
the last act."
The evening was over far too soon to please our party and when Mr.
Whittington said good-night, at the door of the theater, his guests left
no doubt in his mind of their appreciation and enjoyment of the good
time he had given them.
Best of all days of the vacation was Christmas. Polly and Lois were
wakened at nine o'clock by Uncle Roddy's knock.
"Get up, you lazy children! Merry Christmas!" he called. "Lois, I have
your mother on the phone for you. Come and speak to her."
Lois jumped out of bed and in a minute was calling Xmas greetings all
the way to Albany.
After breakfast Mr. Whittington arrived, and he and Uncle Roddy
whispered mysteriously. Finally Mr. Whittington said:
"Get your things on, girls; we're going for a ride."
"A ride?" exclaimed Polly. "Why, the ground's covered with snow."
"Doesn't make any difference; we're going for a ride," he told her and
not another word could they get out of him.
They rode in the car as far as Fort Lee Ferry and then Uncle Roddy
ordered them out, and they crossed the ice-choked Hudson on the
ferry-boat.
"Please tell us where we are going," pleaded Polly.
"I am simply dying to know; it's all so mysterious," added Lois.
But "wait and see" was all the satisfaction they could get from Mr.
Whittington and Uncle Roddy, and they had to wait until they reached
Fort Lee, where a big double-seated sleigh was waiting for them.
When they were all in and the warm robes were tucked snugly about them,
Mr. Whittington whipped up the two black horses and they were off along
the smooth snow-covered road.
It was one o'clock before they finally reached an old-fashioned
farmhouse way up in the hills back of the Hudson.
"Every one out!" ordered Uncle Roddy.
"What a ducky old house! But what are we here for?" asked Lois.
"I know," laughed Polly, stamping her feet on the porch. "An
old-fashioned Xmas dinner."
"Quite right, Polly, and I hope it's a good one, for I'm starved. But
here are Mr. and Mrs. Hopper, let's ask them about it."
As Mr. Whittington was speaking the door had opened and an old lady and
gentleman stood in the hall.
"Merry Xmas to you both," he continued, shaking them each by the hand.
"Let me introduce you to the rest. Girls, this is Mrs. John Samuel
Hopper, the finest cook in the State of New York; every chance I get to
eat one of her turkeys--well, I take it," he explained.
The old lady blushed with pleasure.
"Won't you be coming in?" she invited. "The dinner's ready, so you'd
best set."
You may be sure they all did justice to the roast duck and turkey, for
their ride had given them hearty appetites.
After dinner they went out to inspect the farm and ended by having a
royal snow fight. When it was over Uncle Roddy suggested more to eat and
they spent the rest of the afternoon before the open fire, roasting
chestnuts and apples, while the men entertained them with stories of
their college days.
The vacation ended at last and Uncle Roddy saw them off, each with a box
of candy and a bunch of violets, at the Grand Central Station.
Seddon Hall had a private car for the girls and as each one entered they
were greeted by a chorus of shouts:
"Hello, did you have a good time?"
"So sorry I couldn't come and see you that day."
"Why didn't you answer my letter?"
"Didn't you adore 'Peter Pan'?" and a thousand other questions.
They reached school at six o'clock and as Polly and Lois strolled down
the corridor, waiting for the supper bell, Lois said:
"Well, here we are, back again. Polly, I never had such a good time.
I'll never be able to thank you."
"Oh, bother the thanks," replied Polly. "Do you know, Lois, now that
we're back I feel as if we had never been away."
"I know," Lois sighed regretfully. "It's more like a wonderful dream.
Still it is good to be back, you know it is."
"Of course it is," Polly agreed heartily.
Just then the gong rang and they went down to supper.