Though Mary Mapes Dodge's aim was for St. Nicholas not to become didactic, certain amounts of instruction were included, like vegetables hidden among the meat. However, this seems like a sweet way to "count one's blessings."Margaret Dana was one of the practical, earnest girls who are always ready to try new things, and ambitious to make the most of every opportunity. She had one trial, and that was, that her father would not let people call her Maggie, or Marguerite, or Daisy, or Pearl, or Madge, or anything but plain Margaret. That had been his mother's name, and he said it was good enough for her grand-daughter, without any modern improvements. To be sure, most of the girls in her class at school were Bessies, and Minnies, and Nellies, and Fannies ; but in spite of the affliction of having a name which did not end in "ie," Margaret took life pleasantly enough. In school, she studied sufficiently to keep her place in the class, and outside, every moment was filled with work or play.
It was a rule of the Dana household, however, that the children should write at least a few lines every day, in the form of a letter, or a diary, or a composition. Copying did not count, or Margaret would have finished her daily task without much thought. Mrs. Dana had an idea that people found many things burdensome only because they were not accustomed to do them, and resolved that her children should form the habit of expressing their thoughts on paper, hoping that it would be as easy for them as talking when they grew older. Margaret had a brother in college, and three or four cousins, with whom she exchanged letters occasionally, and her school compositions came once in two weeks, so that she was seldom at a loss for an object in her daily writing. Sometimes, when she read stories where the heroine kept a journal in which to record her very sentimental ideas, Margaret was tempted to begin one; but she never proceeded far, for she could not think up any trials to philosophize over, and what she was doing amd enjoying seemed unworthy of a place in so dignified a volume. So that after she had written a few pages, in which she had told about their old-fashioned house, which she could never make sound as interesting as the "vaulted halls" and "dim old libraries" which the heroines described, her journal was apt to languish, and, after a few more entries, was usually put into the fire. Once the family tried the experiment of a general diary, which was to be written every night, and was to record the doings of the whole household. But as Mr. and Mrs. Dana, and Grandma Edwards, and Ned, and Kate, and cousin Fanny, and even little John, all were expected to take their turn at it, Margaret wrote in it only now and then. And, besides, it was not half so interesting to write in that great book in the sitting-room as it was to scribble off something of her very own in the sacred privacy of her own corner. This corner was a very cozy sort of place. Kate and Margaret shared a long, low room, which they took great pride in decorating with every pretty thing which came in their way. Sometimes they used to talk over the changes they would make in it if they were rich: The simple, light paper was to be exchanged for an elegant dark tint with a wonderful frieze: the somewhat dingy carpet was to give place to a beautiful inlaid floor, adorned with oriental rugs in soft colors; the air-tight stove was to be replaced by an open fire-place, where a cheerful blaze was always to be glowing (they usually made their plans in the cold weather). In fact, the furniture was all to be of the most new-old-fashioned kind, such as they saw now and then in the house of some friend. To tell the truth, I am very doubtful whether they would have liked the room one bit better if some indulgent fairy had transformed it to the splendid apartment of which they dreamed.
As it was, the two girls took much comfort in its friendly shabbiness. The two windows looked west and south. At the western one, Kate had a table where she used to sit and write or paint, and when she was resting she could look over the river at the low line of blue hills, where the scene seemed the same, and yet ever changing with the changing seasons, like the expression of a familiar face. Often the two girls sat there together and watched the sun sink down behind those wooded slopes, and saw the dark line of trees printed for a moment on his flaming disk, and then standing out distinct and clear on the background of red sky. Sometimes, in the hot July afternoons, they leaned far out at the window to catch the first breath of a summer shower, which they could see coming up over the hills, and watched the thick veil of drops draw nearer and nearer, until the first noisy pattering could be heard on the roof above them. This west window was Kate's corner, where she had all her very special belongings. The southern one was in the slope of the roof, and had little side-lights, which made it almost like a bay-window. In this little nook, Margaret had her low easy-chair, and a sort of folding leaf which could be put up when she wanted a table, or suffered to hang down when she only wished to read or to look out at the cool freshness of the elms. Directly under the window-sill were two little shelves, where she had a few favorite books and her writing materials. This was her cozy corner, and the two girls were very careful to leave each other's possessions undisturbed, so that there might be that sort of separateness which only makes companionship more pleasant. Here they dreamed their dreams, as girls will, and had long confidential talks together; for these two sisters appreciated each other, and if they had friends who seemed at first brighter and more entertaining, they never forgot that close tie of sisterhood which was more than any passing fancy.
One evening, the two sat together in their own room. Kate was writing diligently on an essay which was to be read on the last day of school, and Margaret was biting the end of her pen and half-closing her eyes, as she had a habit of doing when she was thinking intently. At last she burst out with, "I think people who keep journals in books are horrid!"
"How else can you keep one?" inquired Kate, without looking up from her work.
"Oh, I don't mean that!" said Margaret; "I mean that people in books who keep journals are horrid, because they write down such doleful things; and she glanced at the story which she had just finished reading, which certainly was a rather depressing account of the trials and afflictions of a self-scrutinizing young lady. "Why can't they write down the fun they have, and the kind things people do for them, instead of always telling their troubles, and making one feel dreadfully sorry for them?"
"Try it," said Kate, as she wrote the last word in her essay, and then ran down-stairs to read it to her father.
"I declare, I believe I will," said Margaret slowly to herself, after she had thought awhile. "Something pleasant happens almost every day; and if I write down at night what people have done for me during the day, I shall not be always forgetting to thank them for it, as I do now, and it will be great fun to read it over some time."
Margaret was never one of the dilatory sort; when she made up her mind to do anything, she never waited until her enthusiasm had cooled. That very night she sewed a few sheets of paper into a little book, and made her first entry in this novel kind of diary.
"I have resolved to keep a 'Favor-Book,' and to write down in it all the kind and pleasant things people do for me."
If it had not been for the rule about writing every day, the "Favor-Book" might have been neglected, as the rest of the winter went by; but before the spring came, Margaret was herself surprised to see how full it had grown.
One night, during the first week in March, she sat in her favorite seat and turned over the pages and read the simple record. It was only a list of the little favors of every day, such as all receive, but Margaret was glad to recall every one of them.
Jan. 4. My brother let me read the St. Nicholas first, because I wanted to. I must remember to let him have it first, next time.
Jan. 5. Alice Williams invited me to a party, and I had a splendid time.
Jan. 7. Mother said I might go out skating when the rest did, and she would wipe the dinner dishes for me.
Jan. 8. I received a fine letter from brother Ned, and he hates to write letters to us girls when he has so much other writing to do.
Jan. 9. Cousin Fanny mended my dress for me, because she thought I did n't know how to do it in the best way.
Jan. 10. Kate tried hard and found a capital subject for me to write a composition about.
Jan. 11. Nellie Forbes waited for me to-day, because I was not quite ready to go to walk when the other girls went.
Jan. 12. Mother let me ask two of the girls to tea.
Jan. 14. Because I was so busy, Fred went down street on an errand which Mother had asked me to do.
Jan. 15. Ellen lent me her new story-book.
Jan. 16. Alice came over and brought her work, and taught me some of the stitches for Kensington embroidery.
Jan. 17. Father took Kate and me to a concert.
Jan. 18. Mary came over and stayed with me, because I had a cold. And it was splendid skating, too.
Jan. 19. Ellen came to ask how I was, on her way to church.
Jan. 20. Cousin Fanny read to me quite a while to-day. Fred sat down and played backgammon, because I had such a cold,—and he don't like games very well, either.
Jan. 21. Father taught me how to play checkers, because he said staying in the house was dull work for me. Mrs. Williams sent me some jelly.
Jan. 22. Mary came over again.
Jan. 23. Kate made the bed in our room today, although it is my week to keep it in order. I must make it for her some time.
Jan. 24. My kitten climbed up in a tree, and I could not get her to come down, she was so much frightened. Henry Lund came along and said he would help me; so he went into the house and got a broom, and put my sacque on it, and climbed part way up and coaxed her to get on the sacque, and then got her down.
Jan. 25. Grandma gave me a bottle of cologne this morning. I mean to give half of it to Ellen, for she likes it so much, and hardly ever has any.
Jan. 26. Mother helped me ever so much on my Sunday-school lesson.
Jan. 27. I could not get any more worsted like my cushion, and it was almost done. I felt very much disappointed, because I wanted to finish it for Mother's birthday. Agnes Willis heard me talking about it at recess, and came all the way over here after school, although it rained, and brought her bag of worsted to see if she had n't some that would match. I don't think I have ever been over polite to Agnes, either. I have never tried much to get acquainted with her.
Jan. 29. Mary is getting up a dialogue just for fun, and she has asked me to take the very nicest part in it.
Jan. 30. Mrs. Williams lent me a cape to wear at our dialogue.
Feb. 3. The night of the dialogue, Mary's sister Julia helped us all she could. She fixed my hair for me, and was very kind in many ways. When I told Mother about it, she said, "That 's the sort of older sister I want you to be to Johnny and the baby."
Feb. 4. Grandma told me something which she said would be a good motto for my "Favor- Book." I told her about this book a good while ago, and she said she "heartily favored the 'Favor-Book' idea." The motto was something which a very old lady said to her a long time ago. It was this: "Wherever I go, I learn something, either to avoid or practice." Grandma said that every favor I note down would be something for me to practice. She gave all us children something to do last Sunday, when there was such a dreadful storm that no one could go to church. She made us all find verses in the Bible about doing favors to people. We found ever so many.
Feb. 5. I had a letter from cousin Sarah. I did not answer her last one very promptly, so it was very good in her to write again so soon.
Feb. 6. Old Miss Stone called this afternoon, and I am afraid I was not very glad to see her. She asked Mother why I looked so sad, and Mother told her that my cat was sick, and I felt worried. Miss Stone said, "I must send her some catnip," and before tea her girl came over and brought me a box, and in it was a bunch of dry catnip, tied up with a blue ribbon. And Pussy was almost well the next day.
Feb. 7. Mrs. Williams sent for me to come over and spend the day, and I had a happy time.
Feb. 8. Brother Ned came home and brought a package of candy for us all, and a new book for Kate and one for me.
Feb. 10. Mother went into the city to-day and brought me home a new neck-tie and a box of writing-paper. Johnny was very good all the time she was gone, and helped me amuse the baby.
Feb. 11. Ned took me out sleigh-riding to-day. The last sleigh-ride of the season, we think.
Feb. 13. Agnes helped me with my algebra. She has such a nice way of helping; she does not act as if you did not know anything.
Feb. 14. Aunt Mary helped me about my patchwork and found me some new silk pieces.
Feb. 15. I was walking out to see Agnes Willis, and Ellen Stone overtook me and asked me to ride, and then called at Agnes's house for me, an hour later, and brought me home.
Feb. 18. Yesterday was my birthday, and I had presents from Mother, Ned, and Kate, and cousin Sarah sent me a birthday card. Mother asked two of the girls here to tea.
Feb. 20. I went in to Mrs. Johnson's of an errand this morning, and she went upstairs on purpose to get a new book to lend to me.
Feb. 21. Kate let me use her paints this afternoon.
Feb. 22. I was invited to a lovely party at Ellen's, to celebrate Washington's birthday.
Feb. 24. Mrs. Forbes stopped me on the street to ask how our baby was, and to say she was so sorry to hear she had been sick.
Feb. 27. Miss Saunders found something very interesting for me to read at our missionary meeting, and I know she is very busy and does not have much time to spare.
As she read the last entry and laid aside the book, her mother came softly into the room and sat down beside her.
"You told me that your 'Favor-Book' was full, my dear," she said. "I have bought you a new one, that you may keep on remembering the kindnesses which you receive," and she laid down in Margaret's lap a pretty volume in a red leather binding, on which was stamped her name, and underneath it the words,
"Freely ye have received, freely give."
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