CHAPTER XV.
A HAPPY CHRISTMAS.
THERE was a fortnight's vacation at Christmas time. Lloyd spent nearlyall the week before in town, and not once in all that time did it occurto her to wonder what she might find in her own stocking. She was toobusy helping get the little trees ready for the children in thehospital.
There were twenty of them, each one complete, with starry tapers andglittering ornaments, with red-cheeked candy apples, and sugar animalshung by the neck; with tiny tarlatan stockings of bonbons, with festoonsof snowy popcorn, and all that goes to make up the Christmas trees thatare the dearest memories of childhood. And somewhere, hidden among thebranches of each one, or lying at its base, was the especial book or toyor game that its owner had been known to long for.
"I believe that Molly and Dot would rather have theirs together," saidAllison. "As they are in a room by themselves we can give them as largea one as we please, and the others will never know it."
So it was a good-sized tree that was set aside for "The Fold." The veryprettiest of the ornaments were put with it; the brightest colouredcandles, and at the top was fastened a glittering Christmas angel and ashining Christmas star.
It was not till the day before Christmas that they began to think oftheir own affairs. Then Kitty brought out four stockings, which theLittle Colonel examined with interest. They were long and wide, withtiny sleigh-bells on the top, the heels, and the toes, that jingledmusically at the slightest movement. Two were pink and two were blue.What charmed Lloyd the most were the fascinating pictures printed onthem. They told the whole story of Christmas.
Holly and mistletoe and Christmas trees were on one side, down which rana road where pranced the reindeer with the magic sleigh, driven by jollyold Santa Claus himself. On the other side of the stocking was thepicture of the fireplace and a row of stockings hanging from the mantel.In a cradle near by lay a baby asleep. Down on the toe was printed infancy letters:
"Hang up the baby's stocking, Be sure and don't forget. The dear little dimpled darling Has never seen Christmas yet."
"We hang them up every year," explained Kitty. "Ranald and all of us. Itwouldn't seem like Christmas if we used any other kind. We had them inWashington and at every army post we've lived at, and they've beenaround the world with us. If they could talk they could tell of moregood times than any other stockings in the world."
"Um! I just _love_ mine!" cried Elise, catching hers up with a caressingsqueeze, and then swinging it around her head until every little bellwas set a-jingling musically. A little while later she said, with aserious face, "I don't s'pose Molly and Dot ever saw a beautiful picturestocking like this. Do you? Gifts seem so much nicer when they come outof it than out of the common kind that I believe I'll lend them minethis year. I know what it is to be lost, you know. I'm so glad that Iwas found that I'd like to do something to show how thankful I am aboutit."
"But how will Santa Claus know it's to be filled for them?" asked Kitty."He has always filled it for you, and he might put your things in it,and they'd get them."
"I could pin a note on it saying it was mine, but to please put theirthings in it this one time," said Elise, with a troubled look, as shewent over to the window to consider the matter by herself.
A little while later she carried her stocking to her mother with thisnote pinned to it:
"DEAR SANTA CLAUS:--This is my stocking. I s'pose you'll recognise it, as I've carried it around the world with me, and you have put lots of pretty things in it for me every year since I was born. But this year please put Molly's and Dot's presents in it, and I shall be a million times obliged to you.
"Your loving little friend, "ELISE WALTON."
"But what will you do, little one?" asked Mrs. Walton.
"Hang up one of my blue silk stockings," said Elise, promptly, as shedanced around the room, jingling the bells on heel and toe in time to agay little tune of her own.
Lloyd would not have missed taking part in the Christmas celebration atthe hospital for anything, yet she could not give up her usual custom ofhanging her stocking beside the old fireplace at Locust. So, in order togive her both pleasures, it was finally decided that the trees shouldbe taken to the hospital at dusk on Christmas eve, and she could go homeafterward on the nine o'clock train.
Malcolm and Keith were having a great celebration out at Fairchance forJonesy and all who had been gathered into the home since its founding.Miss Allison was helping them, and could not go into town, much to thedisappointment of the girls.
"I wish that auntie was twins," said Kitty, mournfully. "Then she couldbe in both places at once. The boys are always wanting her whenever wedo."
"Your auntie helped with the celebration last year at the hospital,Kitty-cat," said her mother, "so it is only fair that they should haveher in the country this year."
"But Malcolm and Keith were with her both times," persisted Kitty,jealously. "I think that it is just too bad that she isn't twins."
Rob and Ranald went with the girls to help distribute the trees. Itseemed as if a tiny forest had been carried out of fairyland and set inlong, glittering rows down the sides of the wards. One twinkled andbloomed beside each little white bed. The children did not stay long inthe wards. They were more interested in the little room at the end ofthe hall,--Allison's room, that was known all over the building now as"The Fold of the Good Shepherd." The room where two little sisters lostfrom each other so long, but brought together at last, lived through thehappy hours, hand in hand.
Molly's face had lost every trace of its old sullen pout, and fairlyshone with contentment as she sat by Dot's bed, smoothing her pillow,feeding her from time to time as the nurse directed, and singing softlywhen the tired eyes drooped wearily to sleep.
"She would make a fine nurse," said the matron to Mrs. Walton. "She isstrong and patient, and seems to have so much sense about what to do fora sick person. Usually we wouldn't think of letting anybody come in asshe is doing, but she minds the nurse's slightest nod, and seems to bedoing Dot more good than medicine."
It had cost Elise a pang to give up her cherished stocking even as aloan, but she was more than repaid by the pleasure it gave the child,who had known no Christmas story and none of its joy since she had beenlarge enough to remember.
They went back to their homes as soon afterward as possible, Lloyd tohang up her stocking at Locust, and the children to put theirs by thelibrary fire One plain little blue one hung among the gay picturedones, no mistletoe upon it, no holly, no jingling bells, no printedrhymes; but as Mrs. Walton gathered Elise's little white gowned form inher arms, she repeated something that made the child look upwonderingly.
"Oh, mamma!" she cried. "Does it mean that the little Christ-childcounts it just the same--my lending the stocking to Dot and Molly--as ifI had loaned it to him?"
"Just the same, little one."
"And he is glad?" She asked the question in an awed whisper.
"I am sure he is; far gladder than they."
Somehow the thought that she had really brought joy to the Christ-childmade more music in her heart that Christmas eve than all the tinkling ofthe tiny Christmas bells.
It would take too long to tell of all the good times that filled thehappy holiday. At Fairchance it was a sight worth travelling miles tosee,--those merry little lads, and the two little knights who had goneso far in their trying to "right the wrong and follow the king." AtLocust Lloyd spent a happy day in a bewilderment of gifts, for besidesall that she found in her overflowing stocking were the packages fromJoyce and Eugenia and Betty. There was a new saddle for Tarbaby fromher grandfather, and a silver collar from Rob for his frisky namesake,with "Bob" engraved on the clasp. All day there were woolly little headspopping into the hall to say "Chris'mus gif, Miss Lloyd." And then whiteeye-balls would shine and snowy teeth gleam as she handed out the candyand nuts and oranges reserved for such calls. Every old b
lack mammy oruncle who had ever worked on the place, every little pickaninny whocould find the slightest claim, visited the great house at some timeduring the day for a share of its holiday cheer.
In the Walton household there was a chattering in the library longbefore sunrise, for Kitty, impatient to see what was in her stocking,had stolen down when the clock struck five, and the other girls hadfollowed in her wake. "I got fourteen presents," said Kitty, chatteringback to bed in the gray dawn, after a blissful examination of herstocking.
"So did I," said Elise. "Everything in the world that I wanted, and lotsof things I'd never dreamed of getting, besides. Auntie and Aunt Elisealways think of such lovely things."
Allison's gifts did not make such a brave showing when spread out withthe others, but she thought of the little white room at the hospitalwith a warm glow in her heart that was worth more than all the giftsthat money could buy. Down in the toe of her stocking she found a boxfrom her Aunt Allison, and took it back to bed with her to open. Insidethe jeweller's cotton was a little enamelled pansy of royal purple andgold, and in the centre sparkled a tiny diamond like a drop of dew."Mamma must have told her," thought Allison, as she read the greetingwritten on the card with it. "For my dear little namesake. May yourwhole lifetime blossom with such beautiful thoughts for others as hasmade this Christmas day a joy."
* * * * *
Out at the hospital, as the day went by, Dot sat with her hand inMolly's, looking from time to time with eyes that never lost theirexpression of content, at the angel and the star that crowned the tree.She grew weaker and weaker as the hours passed, but, opening her eyesnow and then, she smiled at Molly, and squeezed her hand, and lookedagain from the gay stocking hanging on the foot of her bed to theshining angel atop of the tree.
The Japanese canary twittered in his cage; the goldfish flashed aroundand around in their sunny globe; the deep red roses on the table bloomedas if it were June-time. Outside there was snow and ice and winterwinds. Inside it was all cheer and comfort and peace that happyChristmas Day.
Mrs. Walton and the girls came down again in the twilight. Dot was tooweak to say much, but she asked Mrs. Walton to sing, and wanted thetapers lighted again on the tree. Thoughtful Allison had brought freshones with her, which she soon fastened in place. And so, presently, withonly the soft firelight in the room, and the starlight of the littleChristmas candles, Mrs. Walton began an old tune that she loved. Herbeautiful voice had sung it in many a hospital, in the cheerless tentsof many a camp. Many a brave soldier, dying thousands of miles away fromhome, had been soothed and comforted by it. It was "My Ain Countrie" shesang. Not the sweet old Scotch words, with the breath of the moors andthe scent of the heather in them, that she loved. She changed them sothat the child could understand. Dot opened her eyes and looked up atthe picture of the Good Shepherd, hanging over the mantel, as she sang:
"'For he gathers in his bosom all the helpless lambs like me, And he takes them where he's going, to my own country.'"
There was silence for a moment, and Dot asked suddenly, "Will everythingthere be as lovely as it is here in the hospital?" When Mrs. Waltonnodded yes, she added, with a long, fluttering sigh, "Oh, I've been sohappy here. I don't see how heaven could be any nicer. Sing some more,please."
"THE LITTLE HAND HELD HERS."]
She fell asleep a little later to the soothing refrain of an oldlullaby, and never knew when her guests slipped out, with a whisperedgood night to Molly.
An hour went by. The Christmas tapers burned lower and lower, andfinally went out, one by one, till there was left only the one above theangel and the star. The fire flickered on the hearth, but Molly did notrise to replenish it, for the little hand held hers, and she did notwant to waken such sweet sleep. The nurse looked in at the door once ortwice, and slipped out again. Nagasaki, curled up like a feather ball,with his head under his wing, stirred once, with a sleepy twitter, butno other sound broke the stillness of the little room.
Again the door opened softly, and the doctor stepped in on his round ofevening visits. He laid his finger on the little one's pulse a moment,and then turned away. The last taper on the tree, that lit the star,glowing above the Christmas angel, gave a final flicker and went out.The doctor, stepping into the hall, met one of the nurses. "You'llhave to tell her sister," he said. "She is still holding the littleone's hand, thinking that she is asleep. But her life went out with thelast of the Christmas candles."
* * * * *
It was not until next day that the children heard what had happened theevening before. The matron had telephoned immediately to Mrs. Walton,but she did not tell the children, or send word to Locust, until nextmorning. She did not want a single shadow to rest on their gladChristmas Day.
"I do not believe in taking children to funerals," she said to hersister Elise, "but death seems so beautiful in this instance that I wantthem to see it."
The reception-room at the hospital had been fitted up like a chapel. Analtar, draped in white, was covered with flowers, and before it stoodthe white casket where Dot's frail little body was tenderly tucked awayfor its last sleep.
All of the children were there; the two little knights, with a sweetseriousness in their handsome faces, wearing in their buttonholes AuntAllison's badge, the pin that was to remind them that they were tryingto wear, also, "the white flower of a blameless life."
The little captain stood beside them, thinking, as he looked at thelittle body the saloons had killed (for nothing but the cruelty andneglect of a drunken father had caused Dot's illness and death), thatthere were battles to fight for his country at home, as well as those onforeign fields. The manly little shoulders squared themselves with agrave resolution to wear whatever duty the future might lay upon them,in warfare against evil, as worthily as he had worn the epaulets infar-away Luzon.
Allison and Kitty and Elise were there, and the Little Colonel, allstrongly moved by the unusual scene. It was a very short and simpleservice. The late afternoon sun shone in aslant through the westernwindow, like a wide bar of gold. The minister read the parable of theninety and nine, and repeated the burial service. Then there was aprayer, and Miss Allison, seating herself at the organ, touched the keysin soft chords for Mrs. Walton to sing. She sung the lullaby that Dothad asked for the night before; the cradle-song of hundreds of happyhome-sheltered children:
"'Jesus, tender Shepherd, hear me, Bless thy little lamb to-night, Through the darkness be thou near me, Keep me safe till morning light.
"'Let my sins be all forgiven, Bless the friends I love so well, Take me when I die to heaven, Happy there with thee to dwell.'"
When it was all over they filed softly out into the corridor, feelingthat they had only said good night to little Dot, and that it was goodthat one so tired and worn should find such deep and restful sleep. Itwas not at all like what they had imagined dying to be.
"Even Molly didn't cry," said Kitty, wonderingly, as they went hometogether in the twilight.
"No," said Mrs. Walton, "she said to me that she had done all her cryingin those dreadful years when they were separated. She said, 'Oh, Mrs.Walton, now that I know that she's comfortable and happy, I can't feelso bad about her as I used to. She's so safe, now. No matter whathappens, the saloons can't hurt her, now. There'll be no more hungrydays, no more beatings, and it will always be such a comfort to me tothink she had such a good time in the hospital. For six weeks she hadplenty to eat, and everybody was good to her. Every time I look at herpicture, I think of that. She had white grapes and roses even in thewinter-time, and she had _ice-cream_! All she wanted. And I made up mymind this morning that when I'm old enough I am going to be a trainednurse and help take care of poor little children the way she was takencare of here. Miss Agnes says she can find room for me right away, forthere's all sorts of things that I can do, and I'd love to do it for mypoor little Dot's sake.'"
"I must write that to B
etty," thought the Little Colonel. "That is themost beautiful way of all to build a Road of the Loving Heart."
She thought of it all the way home, as the train sped on through thewintry fields, between snow-covered fences. It was dark when thebrakeman called "Lloydsboro Valley," but Walker was waiting with thecarriage, and they were soon driving in at the great entrance gate.
"Oh, mothah," said the Little Colonel, nestling closer under the warmcarriage robes. "See how the stars shine through the locust-trees, andhow the light streams out from the house, down the avenue to meet us!Somehow, no mattah how happy the holidays are, it always seems so goodto get home."