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diff --git a/19384-0.txt b/19384-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d01f9e4 --- /dev/null +++ b/19384-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1660 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of On Christmas Day In The Evening, by +Grace Louise Smith Richmond + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: On Christmas Day In The Evening + +Author: Grace Louise Smith Richmond + +Illustrator: Charles M. Relyea + +Release Date: September 26, 2006 [EBook #19384] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ON CHRISTMAS DAY IN THE EVENING *** + + + + +Produced by Louise Hope, Mark C. Orton and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + [Illustration: + "It's a good thing to exercise the imagination, now and then. + That's the way changes come"] + + + [Decoration] + + On + Christmas + Day In The + Evening + + by + Grace S. Richmond + + Illustrated by + Charles M. Relyea + + + A. L. Burt Company + Publishers New York + + + + + All Rights Reserved, Including that of Translation + into Foreign Languages, Including the Scandinavian + + Copyright + 1910 + Doubleday Page & Company + + Copyright, 1910, By The Ridgway Company + + + + +Illustrations + + "It's a good thing to exercise the imagination, + now and then. That's the way changes come" _Frontispiece_ + + Facing Page + + "Cut it out--cut out the steam calliope!" 22 + + "Billy!" His sister Margaret's voice was anxious. + "Are you sure you'd better?" 32 + + There was flesh and blood in the message he gave them, + and it was the message they needed 52 + + + + +ON CHRISTMAS DAY IN THE EVENING + + [Decoration] + + + + + [Decoration] + +On Christmas Day In The Evening + + [Music: + Holy night! peaceful night! Darkness flies, all is light!] + + +All the Fernald family go back to the old home for Christmas, now, every +year. Last Christmas was the third on which Oliver and Edson, Ralph and +Guy, Carolyn and Nan, were all at the familiar fireside, as they used +to be in the days before they were married. The wives and husbands and +children go too--when other family claims can be compromised with--and +no one of them, down to Carolyn's youngest baby, who was not a year old +last Christmas, has sustained a particle of harm from the snowy journey +to North Estabrook, tucked away though it is among the hills, where the +drifts are deep. + +Taking them all together they are quite a company. And as Father and +Mother Fernald are getting rather well along in years, and such a +house-party means a good deal of preparation, last year their younger +daughter Nan, and her husband, Sam Burnett: and their youngest son, Guy, +and his wife of a year, Margaret: went up to North Estabrook two days +ahead of the rest, to help with the finishing labours. Sam Burnett and +Guy Fernald, being busy young men all the year round, thought it great +sport to get up into the country in the winter, and planned, for a +fortnight beforehand, to be able to manage this brief vacation. As for +Nan and Margaret--they are always the best of friends. As for Father and +Mother Fernald---- + +"I don't know but this is the best part of the party," mused John +Fernald, looking from one to another of them, and then at his wife, as +they sat together before the fireplace, on the evening of the arrival. +"It was all over so quick, last year, and you were all piling back to +town, to your offices, in such a hurry, you boys. Now we can have a +spell of quiet talk, before the fun begins. That suits us to a T --eh, +Mother?" + +Mrs. Fernald nodded, smiling. Her hand, held fast in Guy's, rested on +his knee; Nan's charming head, with its modish dressing, lay against +her shoulder. What more could a mother ask? Across the fireplace, Sam +Burnett, most satisfactory of sons-in-law, and Margaret, Guy's best +beloved, who had made the year one long honeymoon to him--so he +declared--completed the little circle. + +There was much to talk about. To begin with, there was everybody in +North Estabrook to inquire after; and though North Estabrook is but +a very small village, it takes time to inquire after everybody. Quite +suddenly, having asked solicitously concerning a very old woman, who +had nursed most of the Fernald children in their infancy and was always +remembered by them with affection, it occurred to Nan to put a question +which had been on her mind ever since she had come into town on the +afternoon stage. + +"Speaking of Aunt Eliza, Mother, makes me think of the old church. She +used to talk so much about liking to hear the bell ring, right up over +her head, next door. _Does_ the bell ever ring, these days--or have +cobwebs grown over the clapper?" + +A shadow dropped upon Mrs. Fernald's bright face, but before she could +speak her husband answered for her. He was more than a little deaf, but +he was listening closely, and he caught the question. + +"It's a miserable shame, Nancy, but that church hasn't had a door open +since a year ago last July, when the trouble burst out. We haven't had a +service there since. Mother and I drive over to Estabrook when we feel +like getting out--but that's not often, come winter-time. Being the only +church building in this end of the township, it's pretty bad having it +closed up. But there's the fuss. Folks can't agree what to do, and +nobody dares get a preacher here and try to start things up, on their +own responsibility. But we feel it--we sure do. I don't like to look at +the old meeting-house, going by, I declare I don't. It looks lonesome to +me. And there's where every one of you children grew up, too, sitting +there in the old family pew, with your legs dangling. It's too bad--it's +too bad!" + +"It's barbarous!" Guy exclaimed, in a tone of disgust. + +"And all over nothing of any real consequence," sighed Mrs. Fernald, in +her gentle way. "We would have given up our ideas gladly, for the sake +of harmony. But--there were so many who felt it necessary to fight to +have their own way." + +"And feel that way still, I suppose?" suggested Sam Burnett, cheerfully. +"There's a whole lot of that feeling-it-necessary-to-fight, in the +world. I've experienced it myself, at times." + +They talked about it for a few minutes, the younger men rather enjoying +the details of the quarrel, as those may who are outside of an affair +sufficiently far to see its inconsistencies and humours. But it was +clearly a subject which gave pain to the older people, and Guy, +perceiving this, was about to divert the talk into pleasanter channels +when Nan gave a little cry. Her eyes were fixed upon the fire, as if she +saw there something startling. + +"People! --Let's open the church--ourselves--and have a Christmas Day +service there!" + +They stared at her for a moment, thinking her half dreaming. But her +face was radiant with the light of an idea which was not an idle dream. + +Guy began to laugh. "And expect the rival factions to come flocking +peaceably in, like lambs to the fold? I think I see them!" + +"Ignore the rival factions. Have a service for everybody. A real +Christmas service, with holly, and ropes of greens, and a star, and +music--and--a sermon," she ended, a little more doubtfully. + +"The sermon, by all means," quoth Sam Burnett. "Preach at 'em, when once +you've caught 'em. They'll enjoy that. We all do." + +"But it's really a beautiful idea," said Margaret, her young face +catching the glow from Nan's. "I don't see why it couldn't be carried +out." + +"Of course you don't." Guy spoke decidedly. "If people were all like +you there wouldn't be any quarrels. But unfortunately they are not. And +when I think of the Tomlinsons and the Frasers and the Hills and the +Pollocks, all going in at the same door for a Christmas Day service +under that roof--well----" he gave a soft, long whistle-- "it rather +strains my imagination. Not that they aren't all good people, you know. +Oh, yes! If they weren't, they'd knock each other down in the street and +have it over with--and a splendid thing it would be, too. But, I tell +you, it strains my imagination to----" + +"Let it strain it. It's a good thing to exercise the imagination, now +and then. That's the way changes come. I don't think the idea's such +a bad one, myself." Sam Burnett spoke seriously, and Nan gave him +a grateful glance. She was pretty sure of Sam's backing, in most +reasonable things--and a substantial backing it was to have, too. + +"Who would conduct such a service?" Mrs. Fernald asked thoughtfully. + +"You couldn't get anybody out to church on Christmas morning," broke in +Mr. Fernald, chuckling. "Every mother's daughter of 'em will be basting +her Christmas turkey." + +"Then have it Christmas evening. Why not? The day isn't over. Nobody +knows what to do Christmas evening--except go to dances--and there's +never a dance in North Estabrook. Whom can we get to lead it? Well----" +Nan paused, thinking it out. Her eyes roamed from Sam's to her fathers, +and from there on around the circle, while they all waited for her +to have an inspiration. Nobody else had one. Presently, as they +expected--for Nan was a resourceful young person--her face lighted +up again. She gazed at Margaret, smiling, and her idea seemed to +communicate itself to Guy's wife. Together they cried, in one breath: + +"Billy!" + +"Billy! Whoop-ee!" Guy threw back his head and roared with delight +at the notion. "The Reverend Billy, of St. Johns, coming up to North +Estabrook to take charge of a Christmas-evening service! Why, Billy'll +be dining in purple and fine linen at the home of one of his millionaire +parishioners--the Edgecombs', most likely. I think they adore him most. +_Billy!_ --Why don't you ask the Bishop himself?" + +Margaret flushed brightly. The Reverend William Sewall was her brother. +He might be the very manly and dignified young rector of a fashionable +city church, but no man who answers to the name of Billy in his own +family can be a really formidable personage, and he and his sister +Margaret were undeniably great chums. + +"Of course Billy would," cried Margaret. "You know perfectly well +he would, Guy, dear. He doesn't care a straw about millionaires' +dinners--he'd rather have an evening with his newsboys' club, any +time. He has his own service Christmas morning, of course, but in +the evening--He could come up on the afternoon train--he'd love to. +Why, Billy's a bachelor--he's nothing in the world to keep him. I'll +telephone him, first thing in the morning." + +From this point on there was no lack of enthusiasm. If Billy Sewall +was coming to North Estabrook, as Sam Burnett remarked, it was time +to get interested--and busy. They discussed everything, excitement +mounting--the music, the trimming of the church--then, more prosaically, +the cleaning and warming and lighting of it. Finally, the making known +to North Estabrook the news of the coming event--for nothing less than +an event it was sure to be to North Estabrook. + +"Put a notice in the post office," advised Guy, comfortably crossing +his legs and grinning at his father, "and tell Aunt Eliza and Miss Jane +Pollock, and the thing is done. Sam, I think I see you spending the next +two days at the top of ladders, hanging greens. I have a dim and hazy +vision of you on your knees before that stove that always used to smoke +when the wind was east--the one in the left corner--praying to it to +quit fussing and draw. A nice, restful Christmas vacation you'll have!" + +Sam Burnett looked at his wife. "She's captain," said he. "If she wants +to play with the old meeting-house, play she shall--so long as she +doesn't ask me to preach the sermon." + +"You old dear!" murmured Nan, jumping up to stand behind his chair, her +two pretty arms encircling his stout neck from the rear. "You _could_ +preach a better sermon than lots of ministers, if you are only an +upright old bank cashier." + +"Doubtless, Nancy, doubtless," murmured Sam, pleasantly. "But as it will +take the wisdom of a Solomon, the tact of a Paul, and the eloquence of +the Almighty Himself to preach a sermon on the present occasion that +will divert the Tomlinsons and the Frasers, the Hills and the Pollocks +from glaring at each other across the pews, I don't think I'll apply for +the job. Let Billy Sewall tackle it. There's one thing about it--if they +get to fighting in the aisles Billy'll leap down from the pulpit, roll +up his sleeves, and pull the combatants apart. A virile religion is +Billy's, and I rather think he's the man for the hour." + + + + +II + + +"Hi, there, Ol--why not get something doing with that hammer? Don't +you see the edge of that pulpit stair-carpeting is all frazzled? The +preacher'll catch his toes in it, and then where'll his ecclesiastical +dignity be?" + +The slave-driver was Guy, shouting down from the top of a tall +step-ladder, where he was busy screwing into place the freshly cleaned +oil-lamps whose radiance was to be depended upon to illumine the ancient +interior of the North Estabrook church. He addressed his eldest brother, +Oliver, who, in his newness to the situation and his consequent lack of +sympathy with the occasion, was proving but an indifferent worker. This +may have been partly due to the influence of Oliver's wife, Marian, who, +sitting--in Russian sables--in one of the middle pews, was doing what +she could to depress the labourers. The number of these, by the way, had +been reinforced by the arrival of the entire Fernald clan, to spend +Christmas. + +"Your motive is undoubtedly a good one," Mrs. Oliver conceded. She spoke +to Nan, busy near her, and she gazed critically about the shabby old +walls, now rapidly assuming a quite different aspect as the great ropes +of laurel leaves swung into place under the direction of Sam Burnett. +That young man now had Edson Fernald and Charles Wetmore--Carolyn's +husband--to assist him, and he was making the most of his opportunity +to order about two gentlemen who had shown considerable reluctance to +remove their coats, but who were now--to his satisfaction--perspiring so +freely that they had some time since reached the point of casting aside +still other articles of apparel. "But I shall be much surprised," +Mrs. Oliver continued, "if you attain your object. Nobody can be more +obstinate in their prejudice than the people of such a little place as +this. You may get them out--though I doubt even that--but you are quite +as likely as not to set them by the ears and simply make matters worse." + +"It's Christmas," replied Nan. Her cheeks were the colour of the holly +berries in the great wreaths she was arranging to place on either side +of the wall behind the pulpit. "They can't quarrel at Christmas--not +with Billy Sewall preaching peace on earth, good will to men, to them. +--Jessica, please hand me that wire--and come and hold this wreath a +minute, will you?" + +"Nobody expects Marian to be on any side but the other one," consolingly +whispered merry-faced Jessica, Edson's wife--lucky fellow!--as she held +the wreath for Nan to affix the wire. + +"What's that about Sewall?" Oliver inquired. "I hadn't heard of that. +You don't mean to say Sewell's coming up for this service?" + +"Of course he is. Margaret telephoned him this morning, and he said he'd +never had a Christmas present equal to this one. He said it interested +him a lot more than his morning service in town, and he'd be up, loaded. +Isn't that fine of Billy?" Nan beamed triumphantly at her oldest +brother, over her holly wreath. + +"That puts a different light on it." And Mr. Oliver Fernald, president +of the great city bank of which Sam Burnett was cashier, got promptly +down on the knees of his freshly pressed trousers, and proceeded to tack +the frazzled edge of the pulpit stair-carpet with interest and skill. +That stair-carpet had been tacked by a good many people before him, +but doubtless it had never been stretched into place by a man whose +eye-glasses sat astride of a nose of the impressive, presidential mould +of this one. + +"Do I understand that you mean to attempt music?" Mrs. Oliver seemed +grieved at the thought. "There are several good voices in the family, +of course, but you haven't had time to practise any Christmas music +together. You will have merely to sing hymns." + +"Fortunately, some of the old hymns are Christmas music, of the most +exquisite sort," began Nan, trying hard to keep her temper--a feat which +was apt to give her trouble when Marian was about. But, at the moment, +as if to help her, up in the old organ-loft, at the back of the church, +Margaret began to sing. Everybody looked up in delight, for Margaret's +voice was the pride of the family, and with reason. Somebody was at the +organ--the little reed organ. It proved to be Carolyn--Mrs. Charles +Wetmore. For a moment the notes rose harmoniously. Then came an +interval--and the organ wailed. There was a shout of protest, from +the top of Guy's step-ladder: + +"Cut it out--cut out the steam calliope!--unless you want a burlesque. +That organ hasn't been tuned since the deluge--and they didn't get all +the water out then." + +"I won't hit that key again," called Carolyn. "Listen, you people." + +"Listen! You can't help listening when a cat yowls on the back fence," +retorted Guy. "Go it alone; Margaret, girl." + +But the next instant nobody was jeering, for Margaret's voice had never +seemed sweeter than from the old choir-loft. + + "_Over the hills of Bethlehem, + Lighted by a star, + Wise men came with offerings, + From the East afar...._" + + [Illustration: + "Cut it out--cut out the steam calliope!"] + +It took them all, working until late on Christmas Eve, to do all that +needed to be done. Once their interest was aroused, nothing short of +the best possible would content them. But when, at last, Nan and Sam, +lingering behind the others, promising to see that the fires were safe, +stood together at the back of the church for a final survey, they felt +that their work had been well worth while. All the lights were out but +one on either side, and the dim interior, with its ropes and wreaths +of green, fragrant with the woodsy smell which veiled the musty one +inevitable in a place so long closed, seemed to have grown beautiful +with a touch other than that of human hands. + +"Don't you believe, Sammy," questioned Nan, with her tired cheek against +her husband's broad shoulder, "the poor old 'meeting-house' is happier +to-night than it has been for a long, long while?" + +"I think I should be," returned Sam Burnett, falling in with his wife's +mood, "if after a year and a half of cold starvation somebody had +suddenly warmed me and fed me and made me hold up my head again. It does +look pretty well--much better than I should have thought it could, when +I first saw it in its barrenness. --I wonder what the North Estabrook +people are thinking about this--that's what I wonder. Do you suppose +the Tomlinsons and the Pollocks and the rest of them have talked about +anything else to-day?" + +"Not much else." Nan smiled contentedly. Then suddenly: "O Sam--the +presents aren't all tied up! We must hurry back. This is the first +Christmas Eve I can remember when the rattling of tissue paper wasn't +the chief sound on the air." + +"If this thing goes off all right," mused Burnett, as he examined the +stoves once more, before putting out the lights, "it'll be the biggest +Christmas present North Estabrook ever had. Peace and good will--Jove, +but they need it! And so do we all--so do we all." + + + + +III + + +"There go pretty near every one of the Fernalds, down to the station. +Land, but there's a lot of 'em, counting the children. I suppose they're +going to meet Guy's wife's brother, that they've got up here to lead +these Christmas doings to-night. Queer idea, it strikes me." + +Miss Jane Pollock, ensconsed behind the thick "lace curtains" of her +"best parlour," addressed her sister, who lay on the couch in the +sitting-room behind, an invalid who could seldom get out, but to whom +Miss Jane was accustomed faithfully to report every particle of current +news. + +"I suppose they think," Miss Jane went on, with asperity, "they're going +to fix up the fuss in that church, with their greens and their city +minister preaching brotherly love. I can tell him he'll have to preach a +pretty powerful sermon to reach old George Tomlinson and Asa Fraser, and +make 'em notice each other as they pass by. And when I see Maria Hill +coming toward me with a smile on her face and her hand out I'll know +something's happened." + +"I don't suppose," said the invalid sister rather timidly, from her +couch, "you would feel, Sister, as if you could put out your hand to +her first?" + +"No, I don't," retorted Miss Jane, very positively. "And I don't see +how you can think it, Deborah. You know perfectly well it was Maria Hill +that started the whole thing--and then talked about me as if I was the +one. How that woman did talk--and talks yet! Don't get me thinking about +it. It's Christmas Day, and I want to keep my mind off such disgraceful +things as church quarrels--if the Fernald family'll let me. A pretty +bold thing to do, I call it--open up that church on their own +responsibility, and expect folks to come, and forget the past. --Debby, +I wish you could see Oliver's wife, in those furs of hers. She holds +her head as high as ever--but she's the only one of 'em that does it +disagreeably--I'll say that for 'em, if they _are_ all city folks now. +And of course she isn't a Fernald. --Here comes Nancy and her husband. +That girl don't look a minute older'n when she was married, five years +ago. My, but she's got a lot of style! I must say her skirts don't +hang like any North Estabrook dressmaker can make 'em. They're +walking--hurrying up to catch the rest. Sam Burnett's a good-looking +man, but he's getting a little stout." + +"Jane," said the invalid sister, wistfully, "I wish I could go +to-night." + +"Well, I wish you could. That is--if I go. I haven't just made up my +mind. I wonder if folks'll sit in their old pews. You know the Hills' is +just in front of ours. But as to your going, Deborah, of course that's +out of the question. I suppose I shall go. I shouldn't like to offend +the Fernalds, and they do say Guy's wife's brother is worth hearing. +There's to be music, too." + +"I wish I could go," sighed poor Deborah, under her breath. "To be able +to go--and to wonder whether you will! --_O Lord_--" she closed her +patient eyes and whispered it-- "_make them all choose to go--to Thy +house--this Christmas Day. And to thank Thee that the doors are +open--and that they have strength to go. And help me to bear it--to +stay home!_" + + + + +IV + + +"The problem is--" said the Reverend William Sewall, standing at the +back of the church with his sister Margaret, and Guy Fernald, her +husband, and Nan and Sam Burnett--the four who had, as yet, no children, +and so could best take time, on Christmas afternoon, to make the final +arrangements for the evening-- "the problem is--to do the right thing, +to-night. It would be so mighty easy to do the wrong one. Am I the only +man to stand in that pulpit--and is it all up to me?" + +He regarded the pulpit as he spoke, richly hung with Christmas greens +and seeming eagerly to invite an occupant. + +"I should say," observed his brother-in-law, Guy, his face full of +affection and esteem for the very admirable figure of a young man who +stood before him, "that a fellow who's just pulled off the sort of +service we know you had at St. John's this morning, wouldn't consider +this one much of a stunt." + +Sewall smiled. "Somehow this strikes me as the bigger one," said he. +"The wisest of my old professors used to say that the further you got +into the country the less it mattered about your clothes but the more +about your sermon. I've been wondering, all the way up, if I knew enough +to preach that sermon. Isn't there any minister in town, not even a +visiting one?" + +"Not a one. You can't get out of it, Billy Sewall, if you have got an +attack of stage-fright--which we don't believe." + +"There _is_ one minister," Nan admitted. "But I'd forgotten all about +him, till Father mentioned him last night. But he doesn't really count +at all. He's old--very old--and infirm." + +"Superannuated, they call it," added Sam Burnett. "Poor old chap. I've +seen him--I met him at the post-office this morning. He has a peaceful +face. He's a good man. He must have been a strong one--in his time." + +"Had he anything to do with the church trouble?" Sewall demanded, his +keen brown eyes eager. + +Nan and Guy laughed. + +"Old 'Elder Blake'?--not except as he was on his knees, alone at home, +praying for the fighters--both sides," was Guy's explanation. "So Father +says, and nobody knows better what side people were on." + +"If I can get hold of a man whose part in the quarrel was praying for +both sides, I'm off to find him," said Sewall, decidedly. He picked up +his hat as he spoke. "Tell me where he lives, please." + +"Billy!" His sister Margaret's voice was anxious. "Are you sure you'd +better? Perhaps it would be kind to ask him to make a prayer. But you +won't----" + +"You won't ask him to preach the sermon, Billy Sewall--promise us that," +cried Guy. "An old man in his dotage!" + +Sewall smiled again, starting toward the door. Somehow he did not look +like the sort of fellow who could be easily swayed from an intention +once he had formed it--or be forced to make promises until he was +ready. "You've got me up here," said he, "now you'll have to take +the consequences. Where did you say 'Elder Blake' lives?" + +And he departed. Those left behind stared at one another, in dismay. + +"Keep cool," advised Sam Burnett. "He wants the old man's advice--that's +all. I don't blame him. He wants to understand the situation thoroughly. +Nothing like putting your head into a thing before you put your foot in. +It saves complications. Sewall's head's level--trust him." + + [Illustration: + "Billy!" His sister Margaret's voice was anxious. + "Are you sure you'd better?"] + + + + +V + + +"I can't--" said a very old man with a peaceful face--now wearing a +somewhat startled expression-- "I can't quite believe you are serious, +Mr. Sewall. The people are all expecting you--they will come out to hear +you. I have not preached for--" he hesitated-- "for many years. I will +not say that it would not be--a happiness. If I thought I were fit. +But----" + +"If I were half as fit," answered Sewall, gently, "I should be very +proud. But I'm--why, I'm barely seasoned, yet. I'm liable to warp, if +I'm exposed to the weather. But you--with all the benefit of your long +experience--you're the sort of timber that needs to be built into this +strange Christmas service. I hadn't thought much about it, Mr. Blake, +till I was on my way here. I accepted the invitation too readily. But +when I did begin to think, I felt the need of help. I believe you can +give it. It's a critical situation. You know these people, root and +branch. I may say the wrong thing. You will know how to say the right +one." + +"If I should consent," the other man said, after a silence during which, +with bent white head, he studied the matter, "what would be your part? +Should you attempt--" he glanced at the clerical dress of his caller-- +"to carry through the service of your--Church?" + +Sewall's face, which had been grave, relaxed. "No, Mr. Blake," said +he. "It wouldn't be possible, and it wouldn't be--suitable. This is a +community which would probably prefer any other service, and it should +have its preference respected. A simple form, as nearly as possible like +what it has been used to, will be best--don't you think so? I believe +there is to be considerable music. I will read the Story of the Birth, +and will try to make a prayer. The rest I will leave to you." + +"And Him," added the old man. + +"And Him," agreed the young man, reverently. Then a bright smile broke +over his face, and he held out his hand. "I'm no end grateful to you, +sir," he said, a certain attractive boyishness of manner suddenly coming +uppermost and putting to flight the dignity which was at times a heavier +weight than he could carry. "No end. Don't you remember how it used to +be, when you first went into the work, and tackled a job now and then +that seemed too big for you? Then you caught sight of a pair of +shoulders that looked to you broader than yours--the muscles developed +by years of exercise--and you were pretty thankful to shift the load on +to them? You didn't want to shirk--Heaven forbid!--but you just felt you +didn't know enough to deal with the situation. Don't you remember?" + +The old man, with a gently humorous look, glanced down at his own thin, +bent shoulders, then at the stalwart ones which towered above him. + +"You speak metaphorically, my dear lad," he said quaintly, with a kindly +twinkle in his faded blue eyes. He laid his left hand on the firm young +arm whose hand held his shrunken right. "But I do remember--yes, yes--I +remember plainly enough. And though it seems to me now as if the +strength were all with the young and vigorous in body, it may be that +I should be glad of the years that have brought me experience." + +"And tolerance," added William Sewall, pressing the hand, his eyes held +fast by Elder Blake's. + +"And love," yet added the other. "Love. That's the great thing--that's +the great thing. I do love this community--these dear people. They are +good people at heart--only misled as to what is worth standing out for. +I would see them at peace. Maybe I can speak to them. God knows--I will +try." + + + + +VI + + +"The Fernald family alone will fill the church," observed the bachelor +son of the house, Ralph. He leaned out from his place at the tail of the +procession to look ahead down the line, where the dark figures showed +clearly against the snow. By either hand he held a child--his sister +Carolyn's oldest, his brother Edson's youngest. "So it won't matter much +if nobody else comes out. We're all here--'some in rags, and some in +tags, and some in velvet gowns'." + +"I can discern the velvet gowns," conceded Edson, from his place just +in front, where his substantial figure supported his mother's frail one. +"But I fail to make out any rags. Take us by and large, we seem to put +up rather a prosperous front. I never noticed it quite so decidedly as +this year." + +"There's nothing at all ostentatious about the girls' dressing, dear," +said his mother's voice in his ear. "And I noticed they all put on their +simplest clothes for to-night--as they should." + +"Oh, yes," Edson chuckled. "That's precisely why they look so +prosperous. That elegant simplicity--gad!--you should see the bills that +come in for it. Jess isn't an extravagant dresser, as women go--not by +a long shot--_but!_" He whistled a bar or two of ragtime. "I can see +myself now, as a lad, sitting on that fence over there--" he indicated a +line of rails, half buried in snow, which outlined the borders of an old +apple orchard-- "counting the quarters in my trousers pockets, earned by +hard labour in the strawberry patch. I thought it quite a sum, but it +wouldn't have bought----" + +"A box of the cigars you smoke now," interjected Ralph unexpectedly, +from behind. "Hullo--there's the church! Jolly, but the old building +looks bright, doesn't it? I didn't know oil lamps could put up such an +illumination. --And see the folks going in!" + +"See them coming--from all directions." Nan, farther down the line, +clutched Sam Burnett's arm. "Oh, I knew they'd come out--I knew they +would!" + +"Of course they'll come out." This was Mrs. Oliver. "Locks and bars +couldn't keep a country community at home, when there is anything going +on. But as to the _feeling_--that is a different matter. --Oliver, do +take my muff. I want to take off my veil. There will be no chance once I +am inside the door. Nan is walking twice as fast now as when we started. +She will have us all up the aisle before----" + +"Where's Billy Sewall bolting to?" Guy sent back this stage-whisper from +the front of the procession, to Margaret, his wife, who was walking with +Father Fernald, her hand on his gallant arm. In John Fernald's day a man +always offered his arm to the lady he escorted. + +"He caught sight of Mr. Blake, across the road. They're going in +together," Margaret replied. "I think Mr. Blake is to have a part in +the service." + +"Old Ebenezer Blake? You don't say!" Father Fernald ejaculated in +astonishment. He had not been told of Sewall's visit to the aged +minister. "Well--well--that is thoughtful of William Sewall. +I don't suppose Elder Blake has taken part in a service in fifteen +years--twenty, maybe. He used to be a great preacher, too, in his day. +I used to listen to him, when I was a young man, and think he could put +things in about as interesting a way as any preacher I ever heard. Good +man, too, he was--and is. But nobody's thought of asking him to make a +prayer in public since--I don't know when. --Well, well--look at the +people going in! I guess we'd better be getting right along to our +seats, or there won't be any left." + + + + +VII + + +The organ was playing--very softly. Carolyn was a skilful manipulator +of keyboards, and she had discovered that by carefully refraining from +the use of certain keys--discreetly marked by postage stamps--she could +produce a not unmusical effect of subdued harmony. This unquestionably +added very much to the impression of a churchly atmosphere, carried out +to the eye by the Christmas wreathing and twining of the heavy ropes of +shining laurel leaves, and by the massing of the whole pulpit-front in +the soft, dark green of hemlock boughs and holly. To the people who +entered the house with vivid memories of the burning July day when words +hardly less burning had seemed to scorch the barren walls, this lamp-lit +interior, clothed with the garments of the woods and fragrant with their +breath, seemed a place so different that it could hardly be the same. + +But the faces were the same--the faces. And George Tomlinson did not +look at Asa Fraser, though he passed him in the aisle, beard to beard. +Miss Jane Pollock stared hard at the back of Mrs. Maria Hill's bonnet, +in the pew in front of her, but when Mrs. Hill turned about to glance up +at the organ-loft, to discover who was there, Miss Pollock's face became +as adamant, and her eyes remained fixed on her folded hands until Mrs. +Hill had twisted about again, and there was no danger of their glances +encountering. All over the church, likewise, were people who avoided +seeing each other, though conscious, all down their rigid backbones, +that those with whom they had fallen out on that unhappy July day were +present. + +There was no vestry in the old meeting-house; no retiring place of any +sort where the presiding minister might stay until the moment came for +him to make his quiet and impressive entrance through a softly opening +pulpit door. So when the Reverend William Sewall of St. John's, of the +neighbouring city, came into the North Estabrook sanctuary, it was as +his congregation had entered, through the front door and up the aisle. + +There was a turning of heads to see him come, but there was a staring +of eyes, indeed, when it was seen by whom he was accompanied. The erect +figure of the young man, in his unexceptionable attire, walked slowly, +to keep pace with the feeble footsteps of the very old man in his +threadbare garments of the cut of half a century ago, and the sight of +the two together was one of the most strangely touching things that had +ever met the eyes of the people of North Estabrook. It may be said, +therefore, that from that first moment there was an unexpected and +unreckoned-with influence abroad in the place. + +Now, to the subdued notes of the organ, which had been occupied with +one theme, built upon with varying harmonies but ever appearing--though +perhaps no ear but a trained one would have recognized it through the +veil--was added the breath of voices. It was only an old Christmas +carol, the music that of a German folk song, but dear to generations +of Christmas singers everywhere. The North Estabrook people recognized +it--yet did not recognize it. They had never heard it sung like that +before. + + "_Holy night! peaceful night! + All is dark, save the light + Yonder where they sweet vigils keep O'er the Babe, who in silent sleep + Rests in heavenly peace._" + +It was the presence of Margaret Sewall Fernald which had made it +possible to attempt music at this service--the music which it seemed +impossible to do without. Her voice was one of rare beauty, her +leadership that of training. Her husband, Guy, possessed a reliable, +if uncultivated, bass. Edson had sung a fair tenor in his college +glee-club. By the use of all her arts of persuasion Nan had provided an +alto singer, from the ranks of the choir which had once occupied this +organ-loft--the daughter of Asa Fraser. Whether the quartette thus +formed would have passed muster--as a quartette--with the choir-master +of St. John's, may have been a question, but it is certain the music +they produced was so far above that which the old church had ever heard +before within its walls that had the singers been a detachment from the +choir celestial those who heard them could hardly have listened with +ears more charmed. + +As "Holy Night" came down to him, William Sewall bent his head. But +Ebenezer Blake lifted his. His dim blue eyes looked up--up and up--quite +through the old meeting-house roof--to the starry skies where it seemed +to him angels sang again. He forgot the people assembled in front of +him--he forgot the responsibilities upon his shoulders--those bent +shoulders which had long ago laid down such responsibilities. He saw +visions. It is the old men who see visions. The young men dream dreams. + +The young city rector read the Christmas Story--out of the worn copy of +the Scriptures which had served this pulpit almost from the beginning. +He read it in the rich and cultivated voice of his training, but quite +simply. Then Margaret sang, to the slender accompaniment of the little +organ, the same solo which a famous soprano had sung that morning at +the service at St. John's--and her brother William, listening from the +pulpit, thought she sang it better. There was the quality in Margaret's +voice which reaches hearts--a quality which somehow the famous soprano's +notes had lacked. And every word could be heard, too--the quiet +throughout the house was so absolute--except when Asa Fraser cleared +his throat loudly in the midst of one of the singer's most beautiful +notes. At the sound Mrs. George Tomlinson gave him a glance which ought +to have annihilated him--but it did not. She could not know that the +throat-clearing was a high tribute to the song--coming from Asa Fraser. + + "_How silently, how silently, + The wondrous gift is given; + So God imparts to human hearts + The blessing of His heaven.... + O Holy Child of Bethlehem! + Descend to us, we pray; + Cast out our sin, and enter in, + Be born in us to-day._" + +Then William Sewall made a prayer. Those who had been looking to see old +Elder Blake take this part in the service began to wonder if he had been +asked into the pulpit simply as a courtesy. They supposed he could pray, +at least. They knew he had never ceased doing it--and for them. Elder +Blake had not an enemy in the village. It seemed strange that he +couldn't be given some part, in spite of his extreme age. To be sure, it +was many years since anybody had asked him to take part in any service +whatsoever, even a funeral service--for which, as is well understood, +a man retains efficiency long after he has ceased to be of use in the +pulpit, no matter how devastating may be the weather. But that fact did +not seem to bear upon the present situation. + +A number of people, among them Miss Jane Pollock, were beginning to feel +more than a little indignant about it, and so lost the most of Sewall's +prayer, which was a good one, and not out of the prayer-book, though +there were phrases in it which suggested that source, as was quite +natural. The city man meant to do it all, then. Doubtless he thought +nobody from the country knew how to do more than to pronounce the +benediction. Doubtless that was to be Elder Blake's insignificant +part--to pronounce the---- + +Miss Jane Pollock looked up quickly. She had been staring steadily at +the back of Maria Hill's mink collar, in front of her, through the +closing sentences of the prayer. But what was this? Elder Blake had +risen and was coming forward. Was he going to read a hymn? But he had no +book. And he had taken off his spectacles. He could see better, as was +known, without his spectacles, when looking at a distance. + +William Sewall's prayer was not ended. He could no longer be heard by +the people, but in his seat, behind the drooping figure of the old man, +he was asking things of the Lord as it seemed to him he had never asked +anything before. Could His poor, feeble, "superannuated" old servant +ever speak the message that needed to be spoken that night? William +Sewall felt more than ever that he himself could not have done it. +Could Ebenezer Blake? + +"_Make him strong, O God,--make him strong_," requested William Sewall, +fervently. Then, forgetting even a likeness to prayer-book phrase, he +added, with fists unconsciously tight-clenched, in the language of the +athletic field where a few years back he himself had taken part in many +a hard-fought battle-- "_Help him to buck up!_" + + + + +VIII + + +They talk about it yet, in North Estabrook, though it happened a year +ago. Nobody knew how it was that from a frail old man with a trembling +voice, which, in its first sentences, the people back of the middle of +the church could hardly hear, there came to stand before them a fiery +messenger from the skies. But such was the miracle--for it seemed no +less. The bent figure straightened, the trembling voice grew clear +and strong, the dim eyes brightened, into the withered cheeks flowed +colour--into the whole aged personality came slowly but surely back the +fires of youth. And once more in a public place Ebenezer Blake became +the mouthpiece of the Master he served. + + [Illustration: + There was flesh and blood in the message he gave them, + and it was the message they needed] + +Peace and good will? Oh, yes--he preached it--no doubt of that. But it +was no milk-and-water peace, no sugar-and-spice good will. There was +flesh and blood in the message he gave them, and it was the message they +needed. Even his text was not the gentle part of the Christmas prophecy, +it was the militant part-- "_And the government shall be upon His +shoulder._" They were not bidden to lie down together like lambs, +they were summoned to march together like lions--the lions of the Lord. +As William Sewall looked down into the faces of the people and watched +the changing expressions there, he felt that the strange, strong, +challenging words were going home. He saw stooping shoulders straighten +even as the preacher's had straightened; he saw heads come up, and eyes +grow light;--most of all, he saw that at last the people had forgotten +one another and were remembering--God. + +Suddenly the sermon ended. As preachers of a later day have learned the +art of stopping abruptly with a striking climax, so this preacher from +an earlier generation, his message delivered, ceased to speak. He left +his hearers breathless. But after a moment's pause, during which the +silence was a thing to be felt, the voice spoke again. It no longer +rang--it sank into a low pleading, in words out of the Book upon which +the clasped old hands rested: + +"_Now, therefore, O our God, hear the prayer of Thy servant and his +supplications, and cause Thy face to shine upon Thy sanctuary that is +desolate, for the Lord's sake._" + + + + +IX + + +Up in the choir-loft, chokily Guy whispered to Margaret, "Can't we end +with 'Holy Night,' again? Nothing else seems to fit, after that." + +She nodded, her eyes wet. It had not been thought best to ask the +congregation to sing. There was no knowing whether anybody would sing if +they were asked. Now, it seemed fortunate that it had been so arranged, +for somehow the congregation did not look exactly as if it could sing. +Certainly not George Tomlinson, for he had a large frog in his throat. +Not Asa Fraser, for he had a furious cold in his head. Not Maria Hill, +for though she hunted vigorously, high and low, for her handkerchief, +she was unable to locate it, and the front of her best black silk was +rapidly becoming shiny in spots--a fact calculated to upset anybody's +singing. Not even Miss Jane Pollock, for though no tears bedewed +her bright black eyes, there was a peculiar heaving quality in her +breathing, which suggested an impediment of some sort not to be readily +overcome. And it may be safely said that there was not a baker's dozen +of people left in the church who could have carried through the most +familiar hymn without breaking down. + +So the four in the organ loft sang "Holy Night" again. They could not +have done a better thing. It is a holy night, indeed, when a messenger +from heaven comes down to this world of ours, though he take the form of +an old, old man with a peaceful face--but with eyes which can flash once +more with a light which is not of earth, and with lips upon which, for +one last mighty effort, has been laid a coal from off the altar of the +great High Priest. + + _"Silent Night! Holy night! + Darkness flies, all is light! + Shepherds hear the angels sing-- + Hallelujah! hail the king! + Jesus Christ is here!"_ + + + + +X + + +George Tomlinson came heavily out of his pew. He had at last succeeded +in getting rid of the frog in his throat--or thought he had. It had +occurred to him that perhaps he ought to go up and speak to Elder +Blake--now sitting quietly in his chair, with William Sewall bending +over him--though he didn't know exactly what to say that would seem +adequate to the occasion. + +At the same moment, Asa Fraser, still struggling with the cold in his +head, emerged from his pew, directly opposite. The two men did not look +at each other. But as they had been accustomed to allow their meeting +glances to clash with the cutting quality of implacable resentment, this +dropping of the eyes on the part of each might have been interpreted to +register a distinct advance toward peace. + +As each stood momentarily at the opening of his pew, neither quite +determined whether to turn his face pulpit-ward or door-ward, Samuel +Burnett, coming eagerly up to them from the door-ward side, laid a +friendly hand on either black-clad arm. Whether Sam was inspired by +Heaven, or only by his own strong common-sense and knowledge of men, +will never be known. But he had been a popular man in North Estabrook, +ever since he had first begun to come there to see Nancy Fernald, and +both Tomlinson and Fraser heartily liked and respected him--a fact he +understood and was counting on now. + +"Wasn't it great, Mr. Tomlinson?" said Sam, enthusiastically. +"Great--Mr. Fraser?" He looked, smiling, into first one austere face and +then the other. Then he gazed straight ahead of him, up at Elder Blake. +"Going up to tell him so? So am I!" He pressed the two arms, continuing +in his friendly way to retain his hold on both. "In all the years I've +gone to church, I've never heard preaching like that. It warmed up my +heart till I thought it would burst--and it made me want to go to work." + +Almost without their own volition Tomlinson and Fraser found themselves +proceeding toward the pulpit--yet Sam's hands did not seem to be +exerting any force. The force came from his own vigorous personality, +which was one that invariably inspired confidence. If Burnett was going +up to speak to the Elder, it seemed only proper that they, the leading +men of the church, should go too. + +William Sewall, having assured himself that his venerable associate +was not suffering from a more than natural exhaustion after his supreme +effort, stood still by his side, looking out over the congregation. +He now observed an interesting trio approaching the platform, composed +of his valued friend, Samuel Burnett--his fine face alight with his +purpose--and two gray-bearded men of somewhat unpromising exterior, but +plainly of prominence in the church, by the indefinable look of them. He +watched the three climb the pulpit stairs, and come up to the figure in +the chair--Sam, with tact, falling behind. + +"You did well, Elder--you did well," said George Tomlinson, struggling +to express himself, and finding only this time-worn phrase. He stood +awkwardly on one foot, before Ebenezer Blake, like an embarrassed +schoolboy, but his tone was sincere--and a trifle husky, on account +of the untimely reappearance of the frog in his throat. + +Elder Blake looked up--and William Sewall thought he had never seen a +sweeter smile on a human face, young or old. "You are kind to come and +tell me so, George," said he. "I had thought never to preach again. It +did me good." + +"It did us good, sir," said Sam Burnett. He had waited an instant for +Fraser to speak, but saw that the cold in the head was in the ascendancy +again. "It did me so much good that I can hardly wait till I get back to +town to hunt up a man I know, and tell him I think he was in the right +in a little disagreement we had a good while ago. I've always been +positive he was wrong. I suppose the facts in the case haven't +changed--" he smiled into the dim blue eyes-- "but somehow I seem to see +them differently. It doesn't look to me worth while to let them stand +between us any longer." + +"Ah, it's not worth while," agreed the old man quickly. "It's not worth +while for any of us to be hard on one another, no matter what the facts. +Life is pretty difficult, at its best--we can't afford to make it more +difficult for any human soul. Go back to town and make it right with +your friend, Mr. Burnett. I take it he was your friend, or you wouldn't +think of him to-night." + +"Was--and is!" declared Sam, with conviction. "He's got to be, whether +he wants to or not. But he'll want to--I know that well enough. We've +been friends from boyhood--we'd just forgotten it, that's all." + +There was a little pause. The old man sat with his white head leaning +against the high back of his chair, his face upturned, his eyes--with +an appeal in them--resting first upon the face of Asa Fraser, then upon +that of George Tomlinson. With a common impulse, William Sewall and +Samuel Burnett moved aside together, turning their backs upon the three. + +Asa Fraser lifted his eyes and met those of George Tomlinson. With a +palpable effort--for he was a man of few words--he spoke. + +"George," said he, "I guess I made a mistake, thinking as I did." + +"Asey," responded Tomlinson quickly, "I guess you weren't the only one +that's made a mistake." And he held out his hand. + +Fraser grasped it. With his other hand he raised his handkerchief and +blew his nose once more, violently--and finally. From this point the +smile in his eyes usurped the place of the moisture which had bothered +him so unwontedly, and put it quite to rout. + +If you imagine that this little drama had escaped the attention of the +departing congregation, headed the other way, you are much mistaken. The +congregation was not headed the other way. From the moment when Burnett, +Fraser and Tomlinson had started toward the pulpit, the congregation, to +a man, had paused, and was staring directly toward them. It continued to +stare, up to the moment when the handshaking took place. But then--eyes +turned and met other eyes. Hearts beat fast, lips trembled, feet moved. +Unquestionably something had happened to the people of North Estabrook. + +Do you know how sometimes the ice goes out of a river? From shore to +shore it has been frozen, cold and hard. For many months it has grown +solid, deepening and thickening until it seems as if there could be no +life left beneath. Then, at last, comes sunshine and rain and warmth. +The huge mass looks as impenetrable as ever, but all at once, some +day--crack!--the first thin, dark line spreads across the surface. +Then--_crack, crack!_--_crack, crack!_--in every direction the ice is +breaking up. Look quickly, now, if you would see that frozen surface +stretching seamless between shore and shore--for suddenly dark lanes of +water open up, which widen while you watch--and soon, incredibly soon, +the river has burst its bonds and is rushing freely once more between +its banks, with only the ever-diminishing blocks of melting ice upon its +surface to tell the story of its long imprisonment. + +Even so, on that memorable Christmas night, did the ice in the North +Estabrook church break up. _Crack!_--George Tomlinson and Asa Fraser, +old friends but sworn foes, had shaken hands. _Crack!_ Mrs. Tomlinson +and Mrs. Fraser, tears running frankly down their cheeks, had followed +the example of their husbands--and glad enough to do it, for their homes +lay side by side, and each had had a hard time of it getting along +without the other. Miss Jane Pollock, seeing Mrs. Maria Hill's fruitless +search for her handkerchief, had long since drawn out one of her +own--she always carried two--and had held it in her hand, ready to offer +it, if she could just get to the point. But when she saw, upon the +pulpit platform, those two gripping hands, somehow she suddenly reached +the point. _Crack!_ --With no difficulty whatever Miss Pollock slipped +the handkerchief into Mrs. Hill's hand, whispering commiseratingly: +"I presume you've got one somewhere, Maria, but you just can't lay your +hand on it. Don't take the trouble to return it--it isn't of any value." + +And Mrs. Hill, accepting the handkerchief, wiped away the unmanageable +tears, and turning round answered fervently; "I guess I _will_ return +it, Jane, if it's only so's to come to your house again--if you'll let +me in, after all I've said." + +Even as they smiled, shamefacedly but happily, at each other, similar +scenes were being enacted. All about them spread the breaking ice. +Incredible, that it should happen in a night? Not so. The forces of +Nature are mighty, but they are as weakness beside the spiritual forces +of Nature's God. + + + + +XI + + +"Well, Billy Sewall, have you taken your young friend home and put him +to bed?" + +The questioner was Ralph Fernald, sitting with the rest of the +family--or those members of it who were not still attending to the wants +of little children--before the fireplace, talking things over. They had +been there for nearly an hour, since the service, but Sewall had only +just come in. + +"I've taken him home," Sewall replied. "But there was no putting him to +bed. I think he'll sit up till morning--too happy to sleep, the fine old +man." + +They had saved the big armchair for him, in the very centre of the +circle, but he would have none of it. He went over to a corner of the +inglenook, and dropped upon the floor at his sister Margaret's feet, +with his arm upon her knee. When somebody protested Guy interfered in +his defence. + +"Let him alone," said he. "He gets enough of prominent positions. +If he wants to sit on the fence and kick his heels a while, let him. +He's certainly earned the right to do as he pleases to-night. By +George!--talk about magnificent team-work! If ever I saw a sacrifice +play I saw it to-night." + +Sewall shook his head. "You may have seen team-work," said he, "though +Mr. Blake was the most of the team. But there was no sacrifice play on +my part. It was simply a matter of passing the ball to the man who could +run. I should have been down in four yards--if I ever got away at all." + +John Fernald looked at his wife with a puzzled smile. "What sort o' talk +is that?" he queried. Then he went on: "I suppose you boys are giving +the credit to Elder Blake--who ought to have it. But I give a good deal +to William Sewall, whose eyes were sharp enough to see what we've been +too blind to find out--that the old man was the one who could deal with +us and make us see light on our quarrel. He did make us see it! Here +I've been standing off, pluming myself on being too wise to mix up in +the fuss, when I ought to have been doing my best to bring folks +together. What a difference it does make, the way you see a thing!" + +He looked round upon the group, scanning one stirred face after another +as the ruddy firelight illumined them. His glance finally rested on his +daughter Nan. She too sat upon the floor, on a plump red cushion, with +her back against her husband's knee. Somehow Nan and Sam were never far +apart, at times like these. The youngest of the house of Fernald had +made perhaps the happiest marriage of them all, and the knowledge of +this gave her father and mother great satisfaction. The sight of the +pair, returning his scrutiny, with bright faces, gave John Fernald his +next comment. + +"After the preachers, I guess Nancy and Samuel deserve about the most +credit," he went on. "It was the little girl's idea, and Sam stood by +her, right through." He began to chuckle. "I can see Sam now, towing +those two old fellows up to the pulpit. I don't believe they'd ever have +got there without him. There certainly is a time when a man's hand on +your arm makes it a good deal easier to go where you know you ought to +go." + +"It would have taken more than my hand to tow them away," said Sam +Burnett, "after they found out how it felt to be friends again. Nobody +could come between them now, with an axe." + +"The music helped," cried Nan, "the music helped more than anything, +except the sermon. Think how Margaret worked over that!--and Carolyn +over that crazy little old organ! And Guy and Ed and Charles hung all +those greens----" + +"I tacked the pulpit stair-carpet," put in Oliver, gravely. "While +you're assigning credit, don't forget that." + +"I stoked those stoves," asserted Ralph. "That left-hand +one--Christopher! --I never saw a stove like that to hand out smoke +in your face. But the church was warm when I got through with 'em." + +"You all did wonderfully well," came Mother Fernald's proud and happy +declaration. + +"All but me," said a voice, from the centre of the group. It was a voice +which nobody had ever expected to hear in an acknowledgment of failure +of any sort whatsoever, and all ears listened in amazement. + +"I did nothing but discourage everybody," went on the voice, not quite +evenly. "I believe I'm apt to do that, though I never realized it +before. But when that wonderful old man was speaking it came to me, +quite suddenly, that the reason my husband's family don't like me +better--is--because--it is my nature always to see the objections to a +thing, and to discourage people about it, if I can. I--want to tell you +all that--I'm going to try to help, not hinder, from now on." + +There was never a deeper sincerity than breathed in these astonishing +words from Marian, Oliver's wife. Astonishing, because they all +understood, knowing her as they did--Oliver was oldest, and had been +first to marry--what a tremendous effort the little speech had cost her, +a proud woman of the world, who had never seemed to care whether her +husband's family loved her or not, so that they deferred to her. + +For a moment they were all too surprised and touched--for there is +nothing more touching than humility, where it is least expected--to +speak. Then Ralph, who sat next Marian, brought his fist down on his +knee with a thud. + +"Bully for you!" said he. + +Upon Marian's other side her husband's mother slipped a warm, delicate +hand into hers. Nan, leaning past Sam's knee, reached up and patted her +sister-in-law's lap. Everybody else smiled, in his or her most friendly +way, at Oliver's wife; and Oliver himself, though he said nothing, and +merely continued to stare fixedly into the fire, looked as if he would +be willing to tack pulpit stair-carpets for a living, if it would help +to bring about such results as these. + +"Marian's right in calling him a 'wonderful old man.'" Guy spoke +thoughtfully. "He got us all--Fernalds as well as Tomlinsons and +Frasers. He hit me, square between the eyes, good and hard--but I'm +glad he did," he owned, with characteristic frankness. + +They all sat gazing into the fire in silence, for a little, after that, +in the musing way of those who have much to think about. And by and by +Father Fernald pulled out his watch and scanned it by the wavering +light. + +"Bless my soul!" he cried. "It's close on to twelve o'clock! You +children ought to be in bed--oughtn't they, Mother?" + +There was a murmur of laughter round the group, for John Fernald was +looking at his wife over his spectacles in just the quizzical way his +sons and daughters well remembered. + +"I suppose they ought, John," she responded, smiling at him. "But you +might let them sit up a little longer--just this once." + +He looked them over once more--it was the hundredth time his eyes had +gone round the circle that night. It was a goodly array of manhood and +womanhood for a father to look at and call his own--even William Sewall, +the brother of his son's wife, seemed to belong to him to-night. They +gave him back his proud and tender glance, every one of them, and his +heart was very full. As for their mother--but her eyes had gone down. + +"Well," he said, leaning over to clasp her hand in his own, as she sat +next him, "I guess maybe, just this once, it won't do any harm to let +'em stay up a little late, They're getting pretty big, now.... And it's +Christmas Night." + + [Music: Piano or choral arrangement of "Silent Night"] + + THE END + + + + + [Illustration: Publisher's Logo] + +THE COUNTRY LIFE PRESS GARDEN CITY, N.Y. + + + * * * * * + * * * * + * * * * * + +Errata: + +having asked solicitously + _text reads "solicitiously"_ +but in the evening--He could come up + _so in original: error for "he"?_ +You don't mean to say Sewall's coming up for this service? + _text reads "Sewell's"_ +Miss Jane Pollock, ensconced behind the thick "lace curtains" + _text reads "ensconsed"_ +"It's close on to twelve o'clock! You + _text has extra quotation mark before "You"_ + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of On Christmas Day In The Evening, by +Grace Louise Smith Richmond + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ON CHRISTMAS DAY IN THE EVENING *** + +***** This file should be named 19384-0.txt or 19384-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/9/3/8/19384/ + +Produced by Louise Hope, Mark C. Orton and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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