A girl troubled by a quarrel does a good deed and receives an unexpected reward.Away back in August it was, that Jessica had declared herself as follows: "You must n't laugh, but that 's just what I shuld like to have happen to me at Christmas time: a big express-wagon rumbling to the door on Christmas eve or Christmas morning, I don't care which, a rousing pull at the door-bell, an express package for me, the big book to sign in my own handwriting, and all the excitement of having the very first right to open the wrapper myself, and see what 's inside. All the packages come direct to Father or Mother, even if something is in them for me. This year I 'd like to have it different for once. How important I should feel!"
Jessica threw herself back in the hammock and looked smilingly up at the sky, while the three pretty, young lady cousins on the porch steps smoothed their fresh muslins, patted their dainty ribbons, and exchanged sly glances, even delicate nods and winks.
It was a very jolly Jessica that had given vent to this effusion, under the sultry sky of August, but now, on this afternoon before Christmas Day, it was a sober-faced little maid who stood before the open drawer of her bureau, and looked down upon piles of pretty gifts, all hidden under snowy wrappers, and bound about with shining ribbons, all save one. That one gift lay quite apart, and it was this that caught and held Jessica's regretful eyes and thoughts.
"If any one had ever told me that Lou and I would ever quarrel, I should n't have believed it," she mused mournfully. "And now there 's her collar-and-cuff set that I worked on all through the fall, and I can't give it to her because we 've had this wretched fuss. About almost nothing, too. But Lou was wrong, just the same," with a reminiscent flash of her brown eyes; "and I can't make up till she owns it. But I sha'n't give that set to anybody else, even if it lies there till next June."
"Ho, Jess!" came from the foot of the stairs. "Look lively up there. Mother 's asking for holly. Has to trim the parlor. Wants wreaths and long branches. It 's up to you to go along by your brother's side, like a good little lambie, and help to pick out the stuff. I 'm all there when it comes to carrying the stickery branches, but I 'm no good selecting. It takes a lady for that, and it 's yourself, Jessica Moore, that has the decorative eye in your head."
Jessica was not proof against her brother's good-natured blarney. Her face brightened, the drawer went shut with a jolt, and with praiseworthy speed she flew into her wraps and joined the whistling youth in the hall below. They swung down the street together, in the best of spirits and good comradeship, for there was a strong bond of congeniality between them.
"Is it Wick's we 're bound for, Jess?" asked Joe, deferring to her feminine judgment. "They had heaps of holly when I passed there an hour ago."
"Don't you think Mercer's would be better?" suggested she. "They always have the prettiest wreaths, and Wick's berries are generally so thin and scattered."
"Mercer's it is, then," was the reply; and thither they bent their steps, chattering volubly every inch of the way. Joe stood by in passive admiration of Jessica's ability, as she chose the wreaths critically and selected with care the sprays that appealed to her as most graceful and abundantly adorned with scarlet berries.
They turned away, he with his arms full of boughs, she with her wrists hung with wreaths, a very festive-looking pair. All along the village street, the farmers' wagons and buggies were drawn close to the curb. In the middle of the thoroughfare, passing vehicles threaded their way cautiously. On the narrow pavement, foot passengers jostled one another good-humoredly, for the Christmas spirit was abroad, and every one took inconveniences lightly.
"Jolly looking pair, you two," struck on the ears of Joe and Jessica, as they were crossing the street in a small, clear space. "Looks like Christmas, sure enough." Looking down from an express-wagon, which he had drawn to a pause while he greeted them, Will Evarts grinned amiably upon the holly bearers.
"Well, did you ever!" cried Joe, as he recognized his school chum in a new capacity. "What are you doing with that load, Will? When did you take up the job?"
"Just to-day, to help out," drawled Will, slow and easy-going as ever. "Things are hustling, down at the office. You never saw such a stack-up in your life. So Father 's pressed me into the service, and—"
"Look out, Will! Move up, quick!" shouted Joe, interrupting him excitedly. But it was too late. A grocer's cart had backed suddenly and locked wheels with the express-wagon. It drew off as hastily, and with a grinding, wrenching sound took with it a hind wheel of the latter, and splintered the end of the axle. The loquacious William was jolted unceremoniously from his seat, and half fell, half scrambled to the ground. Down poured an avalanche of boxes and packages, light and heavy, big and little, in an indiscriminate mass.
With an exclamation of dismay, Will hurried to the rear, leaving his horse to stand unhitched. Joe threw down his holly, and hastened to his assistance.
"Here 's a nice mess," ejaculated the amateur expressman, with chop-fallen countenance. "What will Father say! Serves me right for not tending to business."
"Never mind about that part," said the practical Joe. "Leave that till afterward, and see about righting this damage, if you can."
A crowd had gathered to speculate and offer advice. Examination soon showed that the wagon was useless for the time being.
"We 've got to have a blacksmith to fix this," groaned Will, "and I 'll have to hunt up another wagon."
"Go ahead, then, and do it," urged Joe. "I 'll guard your stuff, and the horse will stand."
Will accepted his offer gratefully, and scuttled away on his quest. Joe took up his position, saying to Jessica, who had been waiting patiently meanwhile, "Guess you 'd better run on, Jess. You don't want to wait in this crowd. There *s no telling when Will can get back, and I ought to stand by him. He 's in a tight place."
It was just as Jessica was turning away that the horse took a notion to do a little backing on his own account, and with the first step, he encountered Joe's bunch of holly, where he had hastily laid it down. The spiked leaves pricked the horse's legs sharply. Out flew his hoofs, only to make matters worse. The sharp holly pierced him yet more keenly, angering the usually gentle animal. With vicious kicks and plunges, he reared in the shafts, backing steadily upon the scattered mass of boxes and bundles. In desperate haste, Joe began to drag and pull as much out of harm's way as possible, shouting lustily, "Whoa there! whoa! Get hold of his head, somebody, won't you, while I tend to things back here."
Several sprang forward at his cry. One, with uplifted whip and harsh voice, snatched at the bridle-rein, but Jessica was before him.
"Don't dare to strike him!" she cried indignantly. "Can't you see he 's frightened? He don't know what 's the matter." A warm lover of horses, she knew no fear, and Dobbin was a friend of years. She grasped at the bridle with a leap in the air, caught it, and jerked him forward with a steady hand. The horse swayed her from side to side, but she held on for dear life. "Come, Dobbin. Come, old fellow," she said soothingly, and then to the bystanders, with an imperative note, "One of you snatch away that holly! Quick! Now, while he 's quiet. I can't hold him more than a minute."
For Dobbin, in spite of her friendly clutch on his rein, and the voice that he recognized through all his mingling of fear and anger, showed signs of further activity, and Jessica was in a precarious position.
Seizing the favorable opportunity, swift hands whisked away the broken branches and pricking twigs. Meanwhile the girl kept a firm grip on the bridle, calming the frightened animal with her gentle words. Upon the removal of the cause of his excitement, Dobbin grew less restive, and before long stood perfectly quiet, but trembling from head to foot, while the brave little maid patted and caressed him, talking to him in a voice that quivered from her strenuous exertions, and the high pitch to which she had been strung.
Joe, full of anxiety for his sister's safety, had started forward when he saw Jessica leap to the horse's head, but, perceiving at once that she held the situation bravely and intelligently, and that others stronger than himself stood ready to come to her rescue if need be, he had retreated to his own post of responsibility.
Thus they stood when Will, a few minutes later, appeared with a blacksmith and an empty wagon. "What 's up, now?" he queried anxiously, perceiving the signs of a more recent disaster than the one of which he had been a witness.
Jess handed him the bridle and stepped quietly to the pavement, leaving Joe to explain, while she gathered up her scattered wreaths, and turned to purchase a fresh stock of boughs.
But she was checked by a pair of loving arms that enveloped her in a warm embrace, and a soft voice in her ear, crying, "Dear, brave Jess! You are the bravest girl in all the world, I 'm sure! But oh, how afraid I was that you might be hurt when Dobbin was plunging that way. How could you do it?"
Jessica's brown eyes looked into Lou Evarts 's blue ones, which were full of admiring tears, and said simply, "Why, Lou, dear, I could n't see old Dobbin thrashed. It was our holly that scared him, so I felt responsible. And then the dear beastie knows me so well, I was sure I could quiet him. You know you and I have played with him ever since we were little tots. It was n't really courage at all."
"It 's what other people call courage, if you don't," insisted Lou, still clinging affectionately to her friend; "and, oh, Jessica, darling, please forgive me for being cross the other day. I 've been so unhappy about it, you can't think."
"Yes, I can," answered her friend warmly, "for I 've been unhappy myself; and if I 'd done as I should, I 'd have come straight over to you to make up at once."
On Christmas morning, Jessica, in a flutter of delight, was turning over the many gifts she had received, and making herself a little acquainted with them. There had been the great excitement of opening them all, exclaiming over them, and handing them from hand to hand to be admired. Then had come the busy half-hour in which she and Joe had tidied the paper-strewn floor, gathered up the bits of ribbon and string, and sorted each one's presents into their separate piles. Now she had drawn up a chair before her own possessions, and, buried in its depths, was peeping into a book that she had long yearned to have.
So absorbed was she, that she took no note of rumbling wheels outside, nor of the sturdy pealing of the door-bell.
"Wake up, Jessica," cried Joe, appearing in the doorway. "Here 's a package for you. Come out and sign."
Up sprang Jessica, all in a tremor of pleasurable surprise, throwing down her book as she went. Sure enough, her wish had come true, and Will Evarts himself delivered to her a plump brown paper parcel, plainly directed in her cousin's handwriting to Miss Jessica Moore.
"Sign here, please," said Will, indicating the proper space in a very businesslike manner, as he offered her a pencil, and then added, as Jessica placed her name on the page which he held open for her, "This must be your reward of virtue. Jess, for coming to the front in the way you did yesterday. You had splendid nerve, and you have my grateful thanks, I can tell you."
"Nonsense, Will," she answered modestly; "there was n't any virtue in it. Besides," with a roguish twinkle, "this package came all the way from Massachusetts, and must have started some days before Dobbin gave his initial kick."
With all the importance that she had anticipated, Jessica severed the string that bound her first express package. Very proudly she opened the pretty gifts sent to her from the eastern home of the three young lady cousins who had been her mother's guests during the preceding summer.
But there was one that she puzzled over for a moment or two, before she unwrapped it. It bore a card inscribed to Jessica and Company.
"What can that mean?" she wondered, turning it over and over, and then saying, with a laugh, "Well, I guess I 'll find out if I undo it," she broke the string. Inside lay a long, slim box, and fastened to it was a tiny note that read:
Dear Jessica:
We know your social nature, and that you love to share your pleasures with a friend. Follow the instructions on this little box, light the mystic candle, and may the sign come true. Your Cousins Three.
In colored script on the white box-cover were the words:
What is read on Christmas night,
By the Christmas candle-light,
Casts a charm o'er every night
Through the year.
Inside was a beautiful bayberry candle, aromatically fragrant, dull green, and molded by hand.
"Jessica and Company! Oh, that means Lou and me," she decided, and laid the candle carefully down, with a wise, little nod. "I 'll think about what we 'd like to have come true." But though she remembered many beautiful things that they might read together on that Christmas night, she could not see how any of them could "cast a charm o'er every night through the year."
It was not until Lou herself came in at dusk, glowing from the cold outdoor air, to thank her friend for the daintily embroidered collar-and-cuff set, and whispered: "I 'm so glad, clear, that we 're together again, and that our quarrel is over," that a sudden light rose in Jessica's face.
Then, taking the long box in her hand, and putting an arm around Lou's waist, she drew her gently to the door, saying, "Come up to my room, Louie. I want to show you something."
On Jessica's writing-desk lay a small morocco-covered volume. Beside it she placed a low brass candlestick, stuck the bayberry candle in its bowl, and lighted it carefully, with a grave, sweet smile.
"Read this," she said, slipping the verse into her companion's hand. Lou's eyes ran slowly over the lines, and then were raised questioningiy to the girl at her side.
"And now, Louie, dear," continued Jessica, softly, as she opened the little volume on her desk, "read this with me."
The delicious fragrance of the bayberry floated toward the two girls, as, side by side, and bending their heads over the book, they read by its flickering light the words that Jessica's forefinger traced: "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good-will toward men."
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