Several days passed and grandfather seemed to improve. The spirit of
Christmas pervaded everything, and even the invalid playfully asked
Alsie if she could give him a hint as to what he might find in his sock
on the eventful morning. Uncle Dick had been instructed to bring home
all the Santa Claus posters that might be found in the newspaper office
or bookshop, and there was already quite a stack of colored pictures on
hand, showing Santa Claus in every stage of his wonderful yearly trip
round the earth. Both Alices had spent some time selecting the little
white Santa and sleigh for the top of the pie. The reindeer were
hitched, tandem style, to the sleigh, harnessed and reined with the
gayest red ribbon.
The packages and letters began to come, in considerable numbers, during
the next few days, and several more "plums" were given into Alice's
care, not to mention the _dates_, raisins, currants, and the like, for
every check or coin was classified with the _fruit_, for the _filling_
of the pie. It began to look as if that pie was to be a very rich one
after all.
One morning, several days before Christmas, Mrs. Gordon came out of the
sick-chamber, to the breakfast table, with a beaming face, saying:
"Captain Gordon spent the best night he has had in months, and he feels
so bright and well that he wants to be brought into the library and rest
awhile on the couch there."
What joy this announcement brought to them all! The rolling chair was
drawn forth, and little Alsie led the way from one room to another with
feet that fairly danced.
No ill effects followed the experiment, and it was repeated the next day
with even greater success. It really appeared that some of the most
persistent features of Captain Gordon's illness were yielding, perhaps,
to the treatment--at any rate, the beloved invalid was better, and the
leaden weight of apprehension, which had so burdened the hearts of each
one of them, was disappearing and a wonderful joy was taking its place.
A white-winged, invisible guest had arrived, before time, to spend the
Christmastide with them. It was the Angel of Hope, sent by the pitying
hand of the Father in Heaven, and with it came peace, joy, love, and
merriment.
What a host of Christmas cards came in, on the morning mail, just
preceding Christmas Day. Little Alsie was almost wild to begin work on
the pie. After breakfast, Aunt Alice said calmly, "Alsie, come with me,
for I have an important errand, and would like to have company."
"O, Auntee, how _can_ you be so composed when there's such a big pile
of bundles in your bedroom closet, and have you seen the lovely palm
sent to grandfather by the members of his literary club? It's a beauty,
and so big that it looks almost like a small tree!"
They wended their way to Alice's room, and locked the door. Going to the
closet, Alice brought forth the largest round hat-box that any of them
had ever seen. It must have been two feet or more in diameter, but it
was only seven or eight inches high.
The Christmas paper was next brought out, and what a wonderful variety
there was--Santa Claus, in all phases of his yearly trip, was pictured
on some rolls, while festoons of holly and ribbon were outlined against
a background of white on others.
After considerable discussion and comparing of effects, it was finally
decided that the outside crust of the pie should be of white paper,
decorated in holly and ribbon, so the needles and pastepot were both
used in preparing the lower portion of the box. The top was treated in
an entirely different fashion. It was covered over with the whitest of
white cotton batting, and the glistening little sleigh was securely
fastened to the center of the top. Fragments of the cotton fell over the
edges, and when Alice sprinkled over this, the "diamond dust," it looked
as if real icicles were dropping from a bank of glistening snow.
"Auntee, it's the prettiest thing I've ever seen!" exclaimed Alsie
enthusiastically, after the lining had been neatly pasted in.
Then began the work of fixing up the packages to fill the pie. Aunt
Bettie's contribution was unique--a beaten-biscuit gentleman, some
twelve inches tall, who was certainly most "fearfully and wonderfully"
made. The eyes, which had been so carefully put in with a fork, were
a little too close together, and the dough nose, which had been so
anxiously applied, had risen unduly in the baking, to the great
detriment of the biscuit gentleman's appearance. The mouth was all
right, however--big and smiling. His legs looked very much like he had
a bad case of locomotor ataxia, but the buttons on his coat were quite
regular and his arms hung at his sides like ramrods.
After careful inspection which occasioned considerable laughter, the
beaten-biscuit man was rolled up in tissue paper and placed in a
Christmas box "just his size." On the card was this message: "The Bible
says, 'Love your enemies'--here is an enemy for you to conquer," for it
was a well-known fact that grandfather found it hard to overcome his
dislike of the "hardtack," as he denominated the beaten biscuit prepared
for him.
[Illustration: AUNT BETTIE'S CONTRIBUTION WAS UNIQUE--A BEATEN-BISCUIT
GENTLEMAN, SOME TWELVE INCHES TALL.]
The doctor's turkey was next inspected--a nice little brown roasted fowl
in appearance, but in reality one of the cunning little pasteboard
devices that Alsie had so often seen in the confectioners' shops. There
was plenty of stuffing too, for Dr. Emerson had filled it full of pills
and capsules. There were pink pills and blue pills and green pills and
lavender pills, and hidden among them was the prescription, with one
end sticking out of the opening. It read: "For Captain Gordon--Pills
of every color, size, and variety, warranted to cure every known pain
or ache--to be taken with your Christmas pie." The little turkey was
carefully wrapped in tissue paper and garnished with a spray of holly.
Next came the tiny basket of fresh eggs from the merry little next-door
neighbor, whose big, fine chickens had been coaxed to lay a dozen eggs
for the Christmas pie. The basket would not hold the dozen--O no! for
its greatest capacity was four; but the remaining eight were set away in
a safe corner of the pantry. The four eggs were laid in a perfect nest
of red and white tissue paper, and holly and ribbon were twined round
the edges and handle of the basket. On the card was written the
following bit of rhyme:
"Now, what can be nicer
Than for folks to remember
The friends that they love
With _fresh eggs_ in December?"
"We shall have to get help, Alsie--just look at the books to be put in,
and half the presents sent by the children must be wrapped and tied up,
for you know every single thing must have a ribbon attached, by which it
is to be pulled out of the pie."
So Alsie was cautiously sent out to get her cousin Emily, the oldest
granddaughter in the family, a quiet young girl of fourteen, who was
exceedingly fond of reading.
"For goodness sake, let's get the books all in the pie before Emily gets
here, Auntee, for she will want to read a little out of each one to see
what it is like, and we'll get no help from her," exclaimed Alsie.
Aunt Alice laughed, and replied, "Well, we must get through this work
somehow, for Uncle Dick is coming out early this afternoon with the
cedar, holly, and mistletoe, and will help us decorate the library.
Speaking of cedar, let me show you what dear Aunt Cecile has sent in
her Christmas box, besides the gifts."
Taking off the top, Alice lifted out a huge bunch of beautiful galax
leaves and another of the daintiest sprays of evergreen.
"Just a suggestion of the bracing mountain air which you are to enjoy
with me as soon as you are well enough to travel," was the message that
came with it, for Aunt Cecile lived far away in a mountain climate, and
was deeply disappointed at not being able to spend this holiday season
at home, as she had intended. All sorts of curiously shaped packages
were taken out and laid aside for the various members of the household,
but the largest share was to go in the pie. Tiny Bess had made a big
shaving-ball at kindergarten, and this was sent to grandfather with
a Christmas greeting. Bobby's contribution was a highly decorated
three-layer blotter with grandfather's name and address in red ink on
the top layer. It was not a thing of beauty, being the work of his own
clumsy little hands, but he felt sure it would be appreciated, for he
had heard grandfather wish so often that "somebody" wouldn't take away
the blotters from his desk.
"I have such a cute little lemon that I want to put in the pie, Auntee,
and yet I don't know exactly _how_ to work it in. It would be too unkind
to say that anybody would 'hand out a lemon' to dear, sick grandfather,
but it's so tiny and cunning--hardly bigger than a lime. The groceryman
found it in a box of lemons and gave it to me, asking if I needed
anything that size for the pie--you know I told him all about it. He
said there was nothing in his Christmas stock too good for the Captain,
and he'd like to send something, but it really seemed like all his
goodies were forbidden fruit."
"We'll put the message in with the lemon, Alsie, and that will make it
both funny and kind." So the tiny specimen was done up in a dainty box
and on the large card was written: "The groceryman offered his choice
stock of figs, dates, confections, and fruits for Captain Gordon's
Christmas pie, but found nothing acceptable but a small-sized lemon,
which he presents with the hope that it will furnish all the tartness
necessary."
"Have you opened Aunt Margie's box yet?" was the question asked by Alsie
as the work of filling the pie was drawing to a close.
"I opened that some days ago," replied Alice, with a smile. "There were
a good many things in that box for general distribution, and, by the
way, Alsie, this goes into the pie, but I think it will interest you as
much as father."
She had stepped to her dresser, and opened a drawer while speaking, and
now held up to view what seemed to be simply an envelope. On turning it
over, however, a pretty little border of holly was disclosed, painted
around the edges. "A Reminiscence" was written in the center.
"What is it, Auntee?" exclaimed Alsie, reaching out her hand.
"We'll let you guess awhile, dearie. I am going to drop it in the pie
now, and _that_ will be one of the surprises that you will enjoy with
grandpa."
Alsie was quite curious over the Reminiscence, and wondered what it
could contain to be of such interest to her.
"Well, I won't have to wait long, anyhow," she finally exclaimed, with
a laugh.
"One of the presents will have to stay on ice until to-morrow morning,"
explained Alsie to Emily, "but we'll show you the card. It's from Mr.
McDonald, the druggist. He's been on a little hunting trip and this
morning sent over the finest, fattest little quail you ever saw. On the
card was written: 'Dear Captain: I filled this prescription for you
myself, independent of the doctors, but I think they will approve. Take
it to-morrow at one o'clock and see if you don't feel better.' Isn't it
a cunning idea? It is to be the last thing put in before grandfather is
brought into the library, Emily, so don't let us forget it."
"I won't," promised Emily; "but where are you going to put all those
bottles of wine and brandy, Aunt Alice? Do you think the pie will hold
them?"
"If that problem puzzles you, just _how_ do you suppose we are going to
get _this_ in the pie?" replied Alice, lifting from its position behind
the bed a box so huge that the pie itself seemed almost diminutive in
comparison.
"O, Auntee," cried Alsie in astonishment, "do tell us what it is!"
For answer Alice set the box on the bed, untied the string, and lifted
off the top. A dainty and beautiful silken comfort was disclosed to the
view of the admiring group. The background was of white, and scattered
over it were clusters of the most exquisitely colored pink roses and
green leaves. The edges were prettily bound with satin ribbon of an
old-rose shade, and a huge bow adorned the center.
"It is made of the warmest and softest wool, and every stitch was put in
by hand," murmured Alice softly, smoothing the comfort caressingly. "It
is beautiful to look at, but by far the most beautiful part to father
will be the thought that every one of his teachers wished to have a hand
in the giving of his Christmas gift, and to this end they came together,
with needles and thimbles, and the stitches were veritably put in with
love."
"But the pie won't hold it, Aunt Alice--what are you going to do about
it?" inquired practical little Emily.
"This big box goes behind the piano, and any other packages that can't
be accommodated inside the pie, will be hidden around in various other
little corners of the room. My plan is to have the _cards_ in the pie,
however, and as they are drawn out, the directions as to where the
packages they represent are deposited, can be followed. Is that a good
idea, Alsie, or do you think of something better?"
"It can't be improved upon, Auntee--you always think of the best plans.
But let's hurry up now and finish, for the pie is about as full as it
will hold."
A half hour more of work, and the pie was finished.