IV.
"BIRDS OF A FEATHER FLOCK TOGETHER."
Uncle Jack did really come on the twentieth. He was not detained bybusiness, nor did he get left behind nor snowed up, as frequentlyhappens in stories, and in real life too, I am afraid. The snow-stormcame also; and the turkey nearly died a natural and premature deathfrom over-eating. Donald came, too; Donald, with a line of down uponhis upper lip, and Greek and Latin on his tongue, and stores ofknowledge in his handsome head, and stories--bless me, you couldn'tturn over a chip without reminding Donald of something that happened"at College."
One or the other was always at Carol's bedside, for they fancied herpaler than she used to be, and they could not bear her out of sight.It was Uncle lack, though, who sat beside her in the winter twilights.The room was quiet, and almost dark, save for the snow-light outside,and the flickering flame of the fire, that danced over the "SleepingBeauty's" face, and touched the Fair One's golden locks with ruddierglory. Carol's hand (all too thin and white these latter days) layclose clasped in Uncle Jack's, and they talked together quietly ofmany, many things. "I want to tell you all about my plans forChristmas this year, Uncle Jack," said Carol, on the first evening ofhis visit, "because it will be the loveliest one I ever had. The boyslaugh at me for caring so much about it; but it isn't altogetherbecause it is Christmas nor because it is my birthday; but long, longago, when I first began to be ill, I used to think, the first thingwhen I waked on Christmas morning, 'To-day is Christ's birthday--ANDMINE!' I did not put the words close together, because that made itseem too bold but I first thought, 'Christ's birthday,' and then, in aminute, softly to myself--AND MINE!' 'Christ's birthday--AND MINE!'And so I do not quite feel about Christmas as other girls do. Mamasays she supposes that ever so many other children have been born onthat day. I often wonder where they are, Uncle Jack, and whether it isa dear thought to them, too, or whether I am so much in bed, and sooften alone, that it means more to me. Oh, I do hope that none of themare poor, or cold, or hungry; and I wish, I wish they were all as happyas I, because they are my little brothers and sisters. Now, UncleJack, dear, I am going to try and make somebody happy every singleChristmas that I live, and this year it is to be the 'Ruggleses in therear.'"
"That large and interesting brood of children in the little house atthe end of the back garden?"
"Yes; isn't it nice to see so many together? We ought to call them theRuggles children, of course; but Donald began talking of them as the'Ruggleses in the rear,' and Papa and Mama took it up, and now wecannot seem to help it. The house was built for Mr. Carter's coachman,but Mr. Carter lives in Europe, and the gentleman who rents his placedoesn't care what happens to it, and so this poor Irish family came tolive there. When they first moved in, I used to sit in my window andwatch them play in their backyard; they are so strong, and jolly, andgood-natured; and then, one day, I had a terrible headache, and Donaldasked them if they would please not scream quite so loud, and theyexplained that they were having a game of circus, but that they wouldchange and play 'Deaf and Dumb School' all the afternoon."
"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Uncle Jack, "what an obliging family, to be sure."
"Yes, we all thought it very funny, and I smiled at them from thewindow when I was well enough to be up again. Now, Sarah Maud comes toher door when the children come home from school, and if Mama nods herhead, 'Yes,' that means 'Carol is very well,' and then you ought tohear the little Ruggleses yell--I believe they try to see how muchnoise they can make; but if Mama shakes her head, 'No,' they alwaysplay at quiet games. Then, one day, 'Cary,' my pet canary, flew out ofher cage, and Peter Ruggles caught her and brought her back, and I hadhim up here in my room to thank him."
"Is Peter the oldest?"
"No; Sarah Maud is the oldest--she helps do the washing; and Peter isthe next. He is a dressmaker's boy."
"And which is the pretty little red-haired girl?"
"That's Kitty."
"And the fat youngster?"
"Baby Larry."
"And that freckled one?"
"Now, don't laugh--that's Peoria!"
"Carol, you are joking."
"No, really, Uncle dear. She was born in Peoria; that's all."
"And is the next boy Oshkosh?"
"No," laughed Carol, "the others are Susan, and Clement, and Eily, andCornelius."
"How did you ever learn all their names?"
"Well, I have what I call a 'window-school.' It is too cold now; butin warm weather I am wheeled out on my little balcony, and theRuggleses climb up and walk along our garden fence, and sit down on theroof of our carriage-house. That brings them quite near, and I read tothem and tell them stories; On Thanksgiving Day they came up for a fewminutes, it was quite warm at eleven o'clock, and we told each otherwhat we had to be thankful for; but they gave such queer answers thatPapa had to run away for fear of laughing; and I couldn't understandthem very well. Susan was thankful for 'TRUNKS,' of all things in theworld; Cornelius, for 'horse cars;' Kitty, for 'pork steak;' whileClem, who is very quiet, brightened up when I came to him, and said hewas thankful for 'HIS LAME PUPPY.' Wasn't that pretty?"
"It might teach some of us a lesson, mightn't it, little girl?"
"That's what Mama said. Now I'm going to give this whole Christmas tothe Ruggleses; and, Uncle Jack, I earned part of the money myself."
"You, my bird; how?"
"Well, you see, it could not be my own, own Christmas if Papa gave meall the money, and I thought to really keep Christ's birthday I oughtto do something of my very own; and so I talked with Mama. Of courseshe thought of something lovely; she always does; Mama's head is justbrimming over with lovely thoughts, and all I have to do is ask, andout pops the very one I want. This thought was, to let her write down,just as I told her, a description of how a little girl lived in her ownroom three years, and what she did to amuse herself; and we sent it toa magazine and got twenty-five dollars for it. Just think!"
"Well, well," cried Uncle Jack, "my little girl a real author! Andwhat are you going to do with this wonderful 'own' money of yours?"
"I shall give the nine Ruggleses a grand Christmas dinner here in thisvery room--that will be Papa's contribution, and afterwards a beautifulChristmas tree, fairly blooming with presents--that will be my part;for I have another way of adding to my twenty-five dollars, so that Ican buy everything I like. I should like it very much if you would sitat the head of the table, Uncle Jack, for nobody could ever befrightened of you, you dearest, dearest, dearest thing that ever was!Mama is going to help us, but Papa and the boys are going to eattogether down stairs for fear of making the little Ruggleses shy; andafter we've had a merry time with the tree we can open my window andall listen together to the music at the evening church-service, if itcomes before the children go. I have written a letter to the organist,and asked him if I might have the two songs I like best. Will you seeif it is all right?"
"BIRDS NEST, Dec. 21st, 188-.
DEAR MR. WILKIE,--
I am the little sick girl who lives next door to the church, and, as Iseldom go out, the music on practice days and Sundays is one of mygreatest pleasures.
I want to know if you can let the boys sing 'Carol, brothers, carol,'on Christmas night, and if the one who sings 'My ain countree' sobeautifully may please sing that too. I think it is the loveliest songin the world, but it always makes me cry; doesn't it you?
If it isn't too much trouble, I hope they can sing them both quiteearly, as after ten o'clock I may be asleep.
--Yours respectfully,
CAROL BIRD.
P.S.--The reason I like 'Carol, brothers, carol,' is because thechoir-boys sang it eleven years ago, the morning I was born, and put itinto Mama's head to call me Carol. She didn't remember then that myother name would be Bird, because she was half asleep, and couldn'tthink of but one thing at a time. Donald says if I had been born onthe Fourth of July they would have named me 'Independenc
e,' or if onthe twenty-second of February, 'Georgina,' or even 'Cherry,' likeCherry in Martin Chuzzlewit; but I like my own name and birthday best.
--Yours truly,
CAROL BIRD."
Uncle Jack thought the letter quite right, and did not even smile ather telling the organist so many family items. The days flew by, asthey always fly in holiday time, and it was Christmas eve beforeanybody knew it. The family festival was quiet and very pleasant, butquite swallowed up in the grander preparations for next day. Carol andElfrida, her pretty German nurse, had ransacked books, and introducedso many plans, and plays, and customs and merry-makings from Germany,and Holland, and England and a dozen other places, that you wouldscarcely have known how or where you were keeping Christmas. The dogand the cat had enjoyed their celebration under Carol's direction.Each had a tiny table with a lighted candle in the center, and a bit ofBologna sausage placed very near it, and everybody laughed till thetears stood in their eyes to see Villikins and Dinah struggle to nibblethe sausages, and at the same time evade the candle flame. Villikinsbarked, and sniffed, and howled in impatience, and after many vainattempts succeeded in dragging off the prize, though he singed his nosein doing it. Dinah, meanwhile, watched him placidly, her delicatenostrils quivering with expectation, and, after all excitement hadsubsided, walked with dignity to the table, her beautiful gray satintail sweeping behind her, and, calmly putting up one velvet paw, drewthe sausage gently down, and walked out of the room without "turning ahair," so to speak. Elfrida had scattered handfuls of seeds over thesnow in the garden, that the wild birds might have a comfortablebreakfast next morning, and had stuffed bundles of dried grasses in thefireplaces, so that the reindeer of Santa Claus could refreshthemselves after their long gallops across country. This was reallyonly done for fun, but it pleased Carol.
And when, after dinner, the whole family had gone to church to see theChristmas decorations, Carol limped wearily out on her little crutches,and, with Elfrida's help, placed all the family boots in a row in theupper hall. That was to keep the dear ones from quarreling all throughthe year. There were Papa's stout top boots; Mama's pretty buttonedshoes next; then Uncle Jack's, Donald's, Paul's and Hugh's; and at theend of the line her own little white worsted slippers. Last, andsweetest of all, like the little children in Austria, she put a lightedcandle in her window to guide the dear Christ-child, lest he shouldstumble in the dark night as he passed up the deserted street. Thisdone, she dropped into bed, a rather tired, but very happy Christmasfairy.