Part 11

"I 'm goin' to put 'em on some hay in the clothes-basket, Maria-Ann, an' keep 'em right under my bed where it's good an' warm," said Aunt Tryphosa, decidedly. "They 're kinder quality folks and can't be turned in among common fowl. Besides, I ain't got another hood, an' if they _should_ freeze their combs, I 'd never forgive myself."

"Well, I would, grandmarm," said Maria-Ann, still laughing, as she untied the last two bundles. "Laws!" she exclaimed, "Here 's New York style for you." She read the visiting card:

"To Mrs. Tryphosa Little, with the Season's compliments from John Curtis Clyde. 4 East ----th Street."

"Well, I 'm dumbfoundered," sighed Mrs. Tryphosa Little, and more she could not say as she took out of the large pasteboard box, a white silk neckerchief, a cap of black net and lace with a "chou" of purple satin lutestring, a black fur collar and a muff to match, in all of which she proceeded to array herself with the utmost despatch, forgetful of the two hens, which, after wandering aimlessly about the kitchen, had roosted finally on the back of her wooden rocking-chair, where they balanced themselves with some difficulty.

But suddenly, as she was thrusting her hands into the new muff, she paused, laid it down on the table, and said, rather querulously, "Help me off with these things, Maria-Ann; I 'm all tuckered out. I can stan' a day's washin' as well as anybody, if I am eighty-one come next June, but I can't stan' no such night 'fore Chris'mus as this, an' I 'm goin' to bed, an' take the hens."

"I would, grandmarm," said her granddaughter, gently, taking off the unwonted finery and kissing the wrinkled face. "You go to bed; I put the soap-stone in two hours ago, so it's nice an' warm. I 'll clear up, an' don't you mind me--here, let me take one of those hens."

"No, I can take care of hens anytime," snapped Aunt Tryphosa, for she was tired out with happiness, "but I can't stan' so many presents, an' I 'm too old to begin." She disappeared in the bed-room, the two Wyandotte hens hanging limply, heads downward, from each hand.

Maria-Ann picked up the paper and the wraps, and made all tidy again in the kitchen. She put her hand on the last bag that was so heavy she had not moved it from the door. "It's a bag of cracked corn--hen-feed," she said to herself, "an' it's from Chi, I know as well as if I'd been told."

Then she sat down in the rocker before the stove and put her feet in the oven to warm. She blew out the light and sat awhile in silence, thinking happy thoughts.

The fire crackled in the stove, and dancing lights, reflected from the open grate, played on the wall. The moon shone full upon the frosted window panes, and the Christmas wreaths were set in masses of encrusted brilliants. The kettle began to sing, and so did Maria-Ann--but softly, for fear of waking Aunt Tryphosa:

"'My soul, be on thy guard; Ten thousand foes arise; The hosts of sin are pressing hard To draw thee from the skies.'"

XVII

HUNGER-FORD

Such a line of communication as was soon established between Mount Hunger and New York, Mount Hunger and Cambridge, the Lost Nation and Barton's River, Hunger-ford--the Fords' new name for the old Morris farm--and the Blossom homestead on the Mountain!

Uncle Sam's post, the Western Union Telegraph Company, the American Express, a line of freight, saddle horses, sleds, and the old apple-green cart on runners were all pressed into service; in all the United States of America there were no busier young people than those belonging to the Lost Nation.

They wrote notes to one another with an air of great mystery; they drove singly, in couples, or all together to Barton's River with Chi; they smuggled in bundles and express packages of all sorts and sizes; looked guilty if caught whispering together in the pantry; took many a sled-ride over to Hunger-ford, and audaciously remained there three hours at a time without giving Mrs. Blossom any good reason either for their going or remaining.

The acquaintance formed between the Blossoms and the Fords just after Thanksgiving, was fast ripening into friendship. March, usually shy with strangers, fairly adored the tall, quiet son with the wonderful smile, and expanded at once in his genial presence. With Ruth Ford he had much in common; and regularly once a week since Thanksgiving he had drawn and painted with her in her studio, the room that Aunt Tryphosa had so graphically described. His gift was far more in that direction than hers; and Ruth, recognizing it, encouraged him, spurred his ambition, and placed all her materials at his disposal.

Rose's sweet voice had proved a delight to them all, and Hazel's violin was being taught to play a gentle accompaniment to Alan Ford's, that sang, or wept, or rejoiced according to the player's mood.

"I am so thankful, Ben, that our Rose can have the advantage of such companions just at this time of her life," said Mrs. Blossom, on the afternoon before Christmas when the two eldest, with Hazel, had gone over to Hunger-ford with joyful secrets written all over their happy faces.

"So am I, Mary. When I see young men like Ford, I realize what I lost in being obliged to give up college on father's account," said Mr. Blossom, with a sigh.

"I do, too, Ben; and what I 've lost in opportunity when I see that gifted woman, Mrs. Ford. She has travelled extensively, she reads and speaks both German and French, she is a really wonderful musician, and keeps up with every interest of the day, besides being a splendid housekeeper and devoted to her children."

"Do you regret it, Mary?" said her husband, looking straight before him into the fire.

"Not with you, Ben," was Mary Blossom's answer. Taking her husband's face in both her hands and turning it towards her, she looked into his eyes, and received the smile and kiss that were always ready for her.

"If we did n't have all this when we were young people, Mary, we 'll hope that we may have it in our children," he said, earnestly.

Just then Chi came in, and gave a loud preliminary, "Hem!" for to him, Ben and Mary Blossom would always be lovers. "Guess 't is 'bout time to hitch up, if you 're goin' clear down to Barton's to meet the train, Ben; I 've got to go over eastwards with the children."

"All right, Chi, I 'd rather drive down to the station to-night; it's good sleighing and our Mountain is a fine sight by moonlight."

"Can't be beat," said Chi, emphatically. "S'pose you 'll be back by seven, sharp? I kind of want to time myself, on account of the s'prise."

"We 'll say seven, and I 'll make it earlier if I can. You 're off for Aunt Tryphosa's now?"

"Just finished loadin' up--There they are!" and in rushed the whole troop, hooded and mittened and jacketed and leggined, ready for their after-sunset raid.

"Good-bye, Martie!" screamed Cherry, wild with excitement, and made a dash for the door; then she turned back with another dash that nearly upset May, and, throwing her arms around her mother's neck, nearly squeezed the breath from her body. "O Mumpsey, Dumpsey, dear! I 'm having such an awfully good time; it's so much happier than last Christmas!"

"And, O Popsey, Dopsey, dear!" laughed Rose, mimicking her, but with a voice full of love, and both mittens caressing his face, "it's so good to have you well enough to celebrate this year!"

Hazel slipped her hand into Chi's, and whispered, "Oh, Chi, I wish I had a lot of brothers and sisters like Rose. Anyway, papa's coming to-night, so I 'll have one of my own," she added proudly.

"Guess we 'd better be gettin' along," said Chi, still holding Hazel's hand. "It's goin' to be a stinger, 'n' it's a mile 'n' a half over there."

"Come on all!" cried March; "we 'll be back before you are, father."

"We 'll see about that," laughed his father, as he caught the merry twinkle in his wife's eye.

But March was right by the margin of only a minute or two; for just as the merry crowd entered the house on their return from their errand of "goodwill," they heard Mr. Blossom drive the sleigh into the barn. In another moment Hazel had flung wide the door and was caught up into her father's arms.

In the midst of their cordial greetings there was a loud knock at the door. They all started at the sound, and Budd, who was nearest, opened it.

"Please, Budd, may I come in, too?" said a voice everyone recognized as the Doctor's.

Then the whole Blossom household lost their heads where they had lost their hearts the year before. Rose and Hazel and Cherry fairly smothered him with kisses; Budd wrung one hand, March gripped another; May clung to one leg, and the monster of a puppy contrived to get under foot, although he stood two feet ten.

Jack Sherrill, looking in at the window upon all this loving hominess, felt, somehow, physically and spiritually left out in the cold. "What a fool I was to come!" he said to himself. Nevertheless he carried out his part of the program by stepping up to the door and knocking. This time Mrs. Blossom opened it.

"Have you room for one more, Mrs. Blossom?" he said with an attempt at a smile, but looking sadly wistful, so wistful and lonely that Mary Blossom put out both hands without a word, and, somehow,--Jack, in thinking it over afterwards, never could tell how it happened so naturally--he was giving her a son's greeting, and receiving a mother's kiss in return.

In a moment Hazel's arms were around his neck;--"Oh, Jack, Jack! I 've got three of my own now; I 'm almost as rich as Rose!"

Rose, hearing her name, came forward with frank, cordial greeting, and May transferred her demonstrations of affection from the Doctor's trousers to Jack's; Cherry's curls bobbed and quivered with excitement when Jack claimed a kiss from "Little Sunbonnet," and received two hearty smacks in return; March took his travelling bag; Budd kept close beside him, and the puppy, who had been christened Tell, nosed his hand, and, sitting down on his haunches, pawed the air frantically until Jack shook hands with him, too.

By this time the wistful look had disappeared from Jack's eyes, and his handsome face was filled with such a glad light that the Doctor noticed it at once. He shook his head dubiously, with his eyebrows drawn together in a straight line over the bridge of his nose, and, from underneath, his keen eyes glanced from Jack to Rose and from Rose back again to Jack. Then his face cleared, and explanations were in order.

"Why, you see," the Doctor said to Mrs. Blossom, "my wife had to go South with her sister, and could not be at home for Christmas--the first we 've missed celebrating together since we were married--and when I found John was coming up to spend it with you, I couldn't resist giving myself this one good time. But Jack here has failed to give any satisfactory account of how or why he came to intrude his long person just at this festive time. I thought you were off at a Lenox house-party with the Seatons?" he said, quizzically.

Jack laughed good-naturedly. "I don't blame you for wondering at my being here; but I've been here before," he said, willing to pay back the Doctor in his own coin.

"The deuce you have!" exclaimed the Doctor. "I say, Johnny, are we growing old that these young people get ahead of us so easily?"

"I don't know how you feel, Dick, but I 'm as young as Jack to-night."

"That 's right, Papa Clyde," said Hazel, approvingly, softly patting her father on the head; "and, Jack, you 're a dear to come up here to see us, for you 've just as much right as the Doctor."

The Doctor pretended to grumble:--"Come to see you, indeed, you superior young woman--_you_ indeed! As if there weren't any other girls in the world or on Mount Hunger but you and Rose--much you know about it."

"Well, I 'd like to know who you came to see, if not us?" laughed Hazel, sure of her ultimate triumph.

"Why, my dear Ruth Ford, to be sure."

"Ruth Ford!" they exclaimed in amazement.

"Why not Ruth Ford? You did n't suppose I would come away up here into the wilds of Vermont in the dead of winter, did you? just to see--" But Hazel laid her hand on his mouth.

"Stop teasing, do," she pleaded, "and tell us how you knew our Ruth."

"_Our_ Ruth! Ye men of York, hear her!" said the Doctor, appealing to Mr. Clyde and Jack. "The next thing will be 'our Alan Ford,' I suppose. How will you like that, Jack?"

"I feel like saying 'confound him,' only it would n't be polite. You see, Doctor, I thought I had preempted the whole Mountain, and was prepared to make a conquest of Miss Maria-Ann Simmons even; but if Mr. Ford has stepped in"--Jack assumed a tragic air--"there is nothing left for me in honor, but to throw down the gauntlet and challenge him to single combat--hockey-sticks and hot lemonade--for her fair hand."

At the mention of Maria-Ann, Rose and Hazel, Budd and Cherry and March went off into fits of laughter. They laughed so immoderately that it proved infectious for their elders, and when Chi entered the room Budd cried out, "Oh, Chi, you tell about the--we can't--the rooster and the hoods, and--Oh my eye!--" Budd was apparently on the verge of convulsions.

"I stuffed snow into my mouth and made my teeth ache so as not to laugh out loud," said Cherry; at which there was another shout, and still another outburst at the table when Chi described the scene in the hen-house.

"Now, children," said Mrs. Blossom, after the somewhat hilarious evening meal was over, the table cleared, the dishes were wiped and put away, "we 're going to do just for this once as you want us to--hang up our stockings; but I want all of you to hang up yours, too. If you don't, I shall miss the sixes and sevens and eights so, that it will spoil my Christmas."

"We will, Martie," they assented, joyfully; for, as March said, it would not seem like night before Christmas if they did not hang up their stockings.

"Yes, and papa, and you," said Hazel, turning to the Doctor, "must hang up yours, and you, too, Jack."

"Why, of course," said Mrs. Blossom, "everybody is to hang up a stocking to-night, even Tell."

"Oh, Martie, how funny!" cried Cherry, "but he has n't a truly stocking."

"No, but one of Budd's will do for his huge paw--won't it, old fellow?" she said, patting his great head.

Then Budd must needs bring out a pair of his pedal coverings and try one brown woollen one on Tell, much to his majesty's surprise; for Tell was a most dignified youth of a dog, as became his nine months and his famous breed.

Early in the evening the stockings were hung up over the fireplace, all sizes and all colors:--May's little red one and Chi's coarse blue one; Mr. Clyde's of thick silk, and Budd's and Tell's of woollen; Hazel's of black cashmere beside Jack's striped Balbriggan. What an array!

Then Mrs. Blossom and May went off into the bedroom, and Mr. Blossom and his guests were forced to smoke their after-tea cigars in the guest bedroom upstairs, while the young people brought out their treasures and stuffed the grown-up stockings till they were painfully distorted.

"Don't they look lovely!" whispered Hazel, ecstatically to March, who begged Rose to get another of their mother's stockings, for the one proved insufficient for the fascinating little packages that were labelled for her.

"Let's go right to bed now," suggested Budd, "then mother 'll fill ours--Oh, I forgot," he added, ruefully, "we are n't going to have presents this year--"

"Why, yes, we are, too, Budd," said Rose, "we 're going to give one another out of our own money."

"Cracky! I forgot all about that--" Budd tore upstairs in the dark, and tore down again and into the bedroom, crying:--"Now all shut your eyes while I 'm going through!" which they did most conscientiously.

Soon they, too, were invited laughingly to retire, and by half-past ten the house was quiet.

"'TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS, AND ALL THROUGH THE HOUSE, NOT A CREATURE WAS STIRRING, NOT EVEN A MOUSE;" Stretched out on the hearth-rug lay Tell snoring loudly, And above from the mantel the stockings hung proudly; When down from the stairway there came such a patter Of stockingless feet--'t was no laughing matter! As the good Doctor thought, for he sprang out of bed To see if 't were real, or a dream iii its stead.

But no! with his eye at a crack of the door He discovered the truth--'t was the Blossoms, all four, With Hazel to aid them, tiptoeing about Like a party of ghosts grown a little too stout. They pinched and they fingered; they poked and they squeezed Each plump Christmas stocking--then somebody sneezed! Consternation and terror!! The tall clock struck one As the ghosts disappeared on the double-quick run!

"'T WAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS, AND ALL THROUGH THE HOUSE, NOT A CREATURE WAS STIRRING, NOT EVEN A MOUSE;" Without in the moonlight, the snow sparkled bright; The Mountain stood wrapped in a mantle of white, With a crown of dark firs on his noble old crest And ermine and diamonds adorning his breast; And the stars that above him swung true into line Once shone o'er a manger in far Palestine.

What a Christmas morning that was!

Chi was up at five o'clock, building roaring fires, for it was ten degrees below zero.

With the first glint of the sun on the frosted panes the household was astir. At precisely seven the order was given to take down the thirteen stockings. But bless you! You 're not to think the stockings could hold all the gifts. In front of each wide jamb were piled the bundles and packages, three feet high!

Rose hesitated a moment when the children sat down on the rug with their stockings, as was their custom every Christmas morn; then she plumped down among them, saying, laughingly:

"I don't care if I _am_ growing up, Martie--it's Christmas."

Upon which Jack, hugging his striped Balbriggan, sat down beside her.

Such "Ohs" and "Ahs"! Such thankings and squeezings! Such somersaults as were turned by March and Budd at the kitchen end of the long-room! Such rapturous gurgles from May! Such hand-shakes and kisses! Such silent bliss on the part of Chi, who, though suffering as if in a Turkish bath, had donned his new, blue woollen sweater, drawn on his gauntleted beaver gloves, and proceeded to investigate his stocking with the air of a man who has nothing more to wish for. And through all the chaotic happiness a sentence could be distinguished now and then.

"Chi, these corn-cob pipes are just what I shall want after Christmas when I give my Junior Smoker."

"Oh, Martie, it can't be for me!" as the lovely white serge dress, ready made and trimmed with lace, was held up to Rose's admiring eyes.

Budd was caressing with approving fingers a regular "base-ball-nine" bat and admiring the white leather balls.

"I say, it's a stunner, Mr. Sherrill; but how did you know I wanted it?"

Mr. Clyde, who was touched to his very heart's core by Hazel's gift of a dollar pair of suspenders which she had earned by her own labor, felt a small hand slipped into his, and found Cherry Bounce looking up at him with wide, adoring, brown eyes, which, for the first time, she had taken from her beautiful Emilie Angelique, whom she held pressed to her heart:--

"I want to whisper to you," she said, shyly. Mr. Clyde bent down to her;--"After I said my prayers to Martie, I asked God to give me Emilie Angelique--every night," she nodded--"but I only told Budd, so how _did_ you know?"

March was lost to the world in his volume of foreign photographs, in his boxes of paints and brushes, and a whole set of drawing materials. He had not as yet thanked Hazel for them.

Everybody was happy and satisfied. Everybody said he or she had received just exactly the thing. Tell alone could not express his gratification in words. He had been given his woollen stocking, and nosed about till he had brought forth three fat dog-biscuit, a deliciously juicy-greasy beef bone, wrapped in white waxed paper and tied at one end with a blue ribbon, a fine nickelplated dog collar with a bell attached, and last, from the brown woollen toe, three lumps of sugar.

One by one he took the gifts and laid them down at Mrs. Blossom's feet; putting one huge paw firmly on the waxed-paper package, he waved the other wildly until she took it and spoke a loving word to him. Then, taking up his beloved bone, he retired with it to the farthest end of the long-room, under the kitchen sink, and licked it in peace and joy.

Jack and Chi in the joyful confusion had slipped from the room.

Soon there was a commotion in the woodshed, and the two made their appearance dragging after them a brand-new double-runner and a real Canadian toboggan, which Jack had ordered from Montreal for March.

Breakfast proved to be a short meal, for the whole family was wild to try the new toboggan with Jack to engineer it. Then it was up and down--down and up the steep mountain road; Jack and Doctor Heath, Mr. Clyde, Mr. Blossom and Chi, all on together--clinging for dear life, laughing, whooping, panting, hurrahing like boys let out from school, while March and Budd and Rose and Hazel and Cherry flew after them on the double-runner, the keen air biting rose-red cheeks, and bringing the stinging water to the eyes.

But what sport it was!

"Now, this is something like," panted Jack, drawing up the hill with Chi, his handsome face aglow with life and joy.

"By George Washin'ton! it's the nearest thing to shootin' Niagary that I ever come," puffed Chi.

"Didn't we take that water-bar neatly?" laughed Jack.

"'N inch higher, 'n' we 'd all been goners;--I had n't a minute to think of it, goin' to the rate of a mile a minute; but if I had--I 'd have dusted! Guess I 'll make it level before I try it with the children,--'n' I want you to know there 's no coward about me, but I 'm just speakin' six for myself this time."

So the morning sped. Even Mrs. Blossom and May were taken down once, and the Doctor stopped only because he wanted to make a morning call on his patient, Ruth Ford; for it was by his advice the family had come to live for three years in this mountain region.

The horn for the mid-day meal sounded down the Mountain before they had thought of finishing the exciting sport, and one and all brought such keen appetites to the Christmas dinner, that Mrs. Blossom declared laughingly that she would give them no supper, for they had eaten the pantry shelves bare.

Such roast goose and barberry jam! Such a noble plum-pudding set in the midst of Maria-Ann's best wreath, for she and Aunt Tryphosa had sent over their simple gifts by an early teamster. Such red Northern Spies and winter russet pears! And such mirth and shouts and jests and quips to accompany each course!

It was genuine New England Christmas cheer, and the healths were drunk in the wine of the apple amid great applause, especially Doctor Heath's:

"Health, peace, and long life to the Lost Nation--May its tribe increase!"

And how they laughed at Chi, when he proposed the health of the Prize Chicken (which, by the way, he had kept for the next season's mascot,) and recounted the episode in the barn.

What shouts greeted Budd, who, rising with great gravity, his mouth puckered into real, not mock, seriousness--and that was the comical part of it all--said earnestly:

"To my first wife!" and sat down rather red, but gratified not only by the prolonged applause, but by the enthusiasm with which they drank to this unexpected toast from his unsentimental self.