by Annie Fellows Johnston, beginning October 1913
CHAPTER V: MISS SANTA CLAUS COMES ABOARD
A half-grown boy, a suitcase in one hand and a pile of packages in his arms, dashed toward the car, leaving a furry old gentleman in the sleigh to hold the horses. The old gentleman's cap was fur, and so was the great rug which covered him. Under the fur cap was thick white hair, and all over the lower part of his face was a bushy white beard. And his cheeks were red, and his eyes were laughing, and if he wasn't Santa Claus's own self, he certainly looked enough like the nicest pictures of him to be his own brother.
On the seat beside him was a young girl, who, waiting only long enough to plant a kiss on one of those rosy cheeks above the snowy beard, sprang out of the sleigh and ran after the boy as hard as she could go. She was not more than sixteen, but she looked like a full-grown young lady to Libby, for her hair was tucked up under her little fur cap with its scarlet quill, and the long, fur-bordered red coat she wore reached her ankles. One had was thrust through a row of holly wreaths, and she was carrying all the bundles both arms could hold.
By the time the boy had deposited his load in the section opposite the children's and dashed back down the aisle, there was a call of "All aboard!" They met at the door, he and the pretty girl, she laughing and nodding her thanks over her pile of bundles. He raised his had and bolted past, but stopped an instant, just before jumping off the train, to run back and thrust his head in the door and call out laughingly, "Good-by, Miss Santa Claus!"
Everybody in the car looked up and smile, and turned and looked again as she went up the aisle, for a lovelier Christmas picture could not be imagined than the one she made in her long red coat, her arms full of packages and wreaths of holly. The little fur cap with its scarlet feather was powdered with snow, and the frosty wind had brought such a glow to her cheeks and a sparkle in her eyes, that she looked the living embodiment of Christmas cheer. Her entrance seemed to bring with it the sense of all holiday joy, just as the cardinal's first note holds in it the sweetness of a whole spring. Will'm edged along the seat until he was close beside Libby, and the two sat and stared at her with wide-eyed interest.
That boy had called her Miss Santa Claus!
If the sleigh which brought her had been drawn by reindeer, and she had carried her pack on her back instead of in her arms, they could not have been more spellbound. They scarcely breathed for a few moments. The radiant, glowing creature took off the long red coat and gave it to the porter to hang up, then she sat down and began sorting her packages into three piles. It took some time to do this, as she had to refer constantly to a list of names on a long strip of paper, and compare them with the names on the bundles. While she was doing this, the conductor came for her ticket, and she asked several questions.
Yes, he assured her, they were due at Eastbrook in fifteen minutes, and would stop there long enough to take water.
"Then I 'll have plenty of time to step off with these things," she said. "And I 'm to leave some at Centerville, and some at Ridgely."
When the conductor said something about helping Santa Claus, she answered laughingly, "Yes, Uncle thought it would be better for me to bring these breakable things instead of trusting them to the chimney route." Then, in answer to a question which Libby did not hear, "Oh, that will be all right. Uncle telephoned all down the line and arranged to have some one meet me at each place."
When the train stopped at Eastbrook, both the porter and conductor came to help her gather up her first pile of parcels, and people in the car stood up and craned their necks to see what she did with them. Libby and Will'm could see. They were on the side next to the station. She gave them to several people who seemed to be waiting for her. Almost immediately she was surrounded by a crowd of young men and girls, all shaking hands with her and talking at once. From the remarks which floated in through the open vestibule, it seemed that they all must have been at some party with her the night before. A chorus of good-bys and Merry Christmases followed her into the car when she had to leave them and hurry aboard. This time she came in empty-handed, and this time people looked up and smiled openly into her face, and she smiled back as if they were all friends, sharing their good times together.
At Centerville, she darted out with the second lot. Farther down, a number of people were leaving the day coaches, but no one was getting off the Pullman. She did not leave the steps, but leaned over and called to an old colored man who stood with a market-basket on his arm, "This way, Mose. Quick!"
Then Will'm and Libby heard her say: "Tell 'Old Miss' that Uncle Norse sent this holly. He wanted her to have it because it grew on his own place and is the finest in the country. Don't knock the berries off, and do be careful of this biggest bundle. I would n't have it broken for anything. And—oh, yes, Mose" (this in a lower tone), "this is for you."
What it was that passed from the little white hand into the worn brown one of the old servitor was not discovered by the interested audience inside the car, but they heard a chuckle so full of pleasure that some of them echoed it unconsciously.
"Lawd bless you, li'l' miss, you sho' is de flowah of de Santa Claus fambly!"
When she came in this time, a motherly old lady near the door stopped her, and smiling up at her through friendly spectacles, asked if she was going home for Christmas.
"Yes!" was the enthusiastic answer. "And you know what that means to a freshman—her first home-coming after her first term away at school. I should have been there four days ago. Our vacation began last Friday, but I stopped over for a house-party at my cousin's. I was wild to get home, but I could n't miss this visit, for she 's my dearest chum as well as my cousin, and last night was her birthday. Maybe you noticed all those people who met me at Eastbrook. They were at the party."
"That was nice," answered the little old lady, bobbing her head. "Very nice, my dear. And now you 'll be getting home at the most beautiful time in all the year."
"Yes, I think so," was the happy answer. "Christmas eve to me always means going around with Father to take presents, and I would n't miss it for anything in the world. I 'm glad there 's enough snow this year for us to use the sleigh. We had to take the auto last year, and it was n't half as much fun."
Libby and Will'm scarcely moved after that, all the way to Ridgely. Nor did they take their eyes off of her. Mile after mile they rode, barely batting an eyelash, staring at her with unabated interest. At Ridgely, she handed off all the rest of the packages and all of the holly wreaths but two. These she hung up out of the way over her windows, then, taking out a magazine, settled herself comfortably in the end of the seat to read.
On her last trip up the aisle she had noticed the wistful, unsmiling faces of her little neighbors across the way, and she wondered why it was that the only children in the coach should be the only ones who seemed to have no share in the general joyousness. Something was wrong, she felt sure, and while she was cutting the leaves of the magazine, she sole several glances in their direction. The little girl had an anxious pucker of the brows sadly out of place in a face that had not yet outgrown its baby innocence of expression. She looked so little and lorn, and troubled about something, that Miss Santa Claus made up her mind to comfort her as soon as she had an opportunity. She knew better than to ask for her confidence, as the well-meaning lady had done earlier in the day.
When she began to read, Will'm drew a long breath and stretched himself. There was no use watching now when it was evident that she was n't going to do anything for a while, and sitting so long had made him fidgety. He squirmed off the seat and up onto the next one, unintentionally wiping his feet on Libby's dress as he did so. It brought a sharp reproof from the overwrought Libby, and he answered back in the same spirit.
Neither was conscious that their voices could be heard across the aisle above the noise of the train. The little fur cap with the scarlet feather bent over the magazine without the slightest change in posture, but there was no more turning of pages. The piping, childish voices were revealing a far more interesting story than the printed one the girl was scanning. She heard her own name mentioned. They were disputing about her.
Too restless to sit still, and with no way in which to give vent to his all-consuming energy, Will'm was ripe for a squabble. It came very soon, and out of many allusions to past and present, and dire threats as to what might happen to him at the end of the journey if he did n't mend his ways. Uninterested listener gathered the principal facts in their history. The fuss ended in a shower of tears on Will'm's part, and the consequent smudging, of his face with his grimy little hands which wiped them away, so that he had to be escorted once more behind the curtain to the shining faucets and the basin with the chained-up hole at the bottom.
When they came back Miss Santa Claus had put away her magazine and taken out some fancy-work. All she seemed to be doing was winding some red yard over a pencil, around and around and around. But presently she stopped and tied two ends with a jerk, and went snip, snip with her scissors, and there in her fingers was a soft fuzzy ball. When she had snipped some more, and trimmed it all over, smooth and even, it looked like a little red cherry. In almost no time she had two wool cherries lying in her lap. She was just beginning the third when the big ball of yarn slipped out of her fingers, and rolled across the aisle right under Libby's feet. She sprang to pick it up and take it back.
"Thank you, dear," was all that Miss Santa Claus said; but such a smile went with it that Libby, smoothing her skirts over her knees as she primly took her seat again, felt happier than she had since leaving the Junction. It was n't two minutes till the ball slipped and rolled away again. This time Will'm picked it up, and she thanked him in the same way. But very soon, when both scissors and ball spilled out of her lap and Libby politely brought her one and Will'm the other, she did not take them.
"I wonder," she said, "if you children could n't climb up here on the seat with me and hold this old Jack and Jill of a ball and scissors. Every time one falls down and almost breaks its crown, the other goes tumbling after. I 'm in such a hurry to get through. Could n't you stay and help me a few minutes?"
"Yes, ma'am," said Libby, primly and timidly, sitting down on the edge of the opposite seat with the ball in her hands. Miss Santa Claus put an arm around Will'm and drew him up on the seat beside her. "There," she said. "You hold the scissors, Will'm, and when I 'm through winding the ball that Libby holds, I '11 ask you to cut the yarn for me. Did you ever see such scissors, Libby? They 're made in the shape of a witch. See! she sits upon the handles, and when the blades are closed, they make the peak of her long, pointed cap. They came from the old witch town of Salem."
Libby darted a half-frightened look at her. She had called them both by name! Had she been listening down the chimney, too? And those witch scissors! They looked as if they might be a charm to open all sorts of secrets. Maybe she knew some charm to keep stepmothers from being cruel. Oh, if she only dared to ask! Of course Libby knew that one must n't "pick up" with strangers and tell them things. Miss Sally had warned her against that. But this was different. Miss Santa Claus was more than just a person.
If Pan were to come piping out of the woods, who, with any music in him, would not respond with all his heart to the magic call? If Titania were to beckon with her gracious wand, who would not be drawn into her charmed circle gladly? So it was these two little wayfarers heard the call and swayed to the summons of one who not only shed the influence, but shared the name of the wonderful Spirit of Yule.
to be concluded tomorrow...
No comments:
Post a Comment