One hundred years ago, it was common to make calls on New Year's Day, much like an open house. Usually the ladies of the house stayed home to serve the obligatory refreshments, while the men did the calling. If the family was not at home, you left a calling card in a specially designated salver or basket. In this funny story, three little boys try out the old custom (for ulterior motives), abetted by their mischievous uncle, meeting amused neighbors and a veritable list of stereotypical servants."Wish you a happy New Year, boys!"
"Happy New Year!" responded threee clear trebles, and the loudest of them added:
"Going to mkae calls to-day, Uncle Fred?"
"Of course I am, Johnny," responded the rosy, frosty-whiskered, middle-aged gentleman they were talking to, as he opened the door of his carriage. "What are you and your friends going to do?"
"We 're going to make calls, too," sange out one of Johnny 's comrades,—"he and I and Tracy Plumb."
"What, is Tom Fitch going with you? Where are you going to call?"
"Everywhere," sturdily replied Tom Fitch, with a hitch at his neck-tie. "All around the block."
"You are, are you! Have you any cards, for places where they 're not at home?"
"Yes, sir, we 've cards for everybody."
"Indeed! Let me see them."
Uncle Fred 's good-humored face was all a broad grin as he held out his hand, for the two smaller boys could not have been much more than eight years old, and Johnny Cook himself, their head man, was barely ten.
"I wrote my own cards," said Johnny, with proud self-satisfaction, as he dragged a handful of bits of white pasteboard from his coat-pocket.
"Tip-top!" exclaimed Uncle Fred; "only you should always spell your name in one way. J-o-n-n-i is n't nearly as good as J-h-o-n-y, and that one's J-o-n-e. But they'll all do."
"Mine are better than his," said Tom. "Mother gave me some of her old ones; and so did sister Belle; and Tracy Plumb has some of his own father 's. Show 'em to him, Tracy."
"That is grand!" said Uncle Fred. "Now you must always send your cards in ahead of you, so they 'll know who 's coming."
He was getting very read in the face just then, and the boys did not hear him mutter, as he hurriedly stepped into his carriage and drove off:
"Must n't let them see me laugh. Might scare 'em out of it and spoil the fun. But should n't I like to be somewhere when those three come in?"
"There were no signs of laughter on the faces of Johnny Cook, Tracy Plumb, and Tom Fitch. It was a decidedly serious business for the, and they marched steadily away up the street.
"Where 'll we call first?" said Tom.
"Let Johnny tell. He knows," said Tracy.
"There's a basket on Mr. Jones's door-bell, boys. We 'll go there first. That 's to put our cards in."
Up the steps they went, and the bell was duly rung, but it had to be pulled again before any one came to the door.
"Well, thin, what is it? What do yiz want?"
"Why, Biddy," exclaimed Tom, "we're calling! Did n't you know it was New Year's day?"
"It's callin' ye are? An' didn't ye see the baskit? Mrs. Jones is n't at home the day."
"Oh!" said Johnny; "she's out making her own calls. Give Biddy your cards, boys."
"Howld on, thin, ivery wan of yiz, till I show her thim cards."
"I thought you said she was n't at home?"
"'Dade an' she is n't; but I 'd rather lose me place than not have her luk at thim. Shtand where yiz are till I come."
The Jones family were too near neighbors for Biddy not to know those three very young gentlemen; and in a moment more, a nice-looking lady upstairs was saying to herself:
"J-o-n-n-y, Johnny, C-o-o-o-k-e, Cook, and Miss Arabella Fitch, and Mr. Marmaduke Plumb—"
"It 's the three b'yes, mum! " exclaimed Biddy, with her plump sides shaking with fun. "Sure, an' it's calls they 're makin'."
"Bring them in, Biddy. Call up the children, and bring a plate of cake. Quick as ever you can. I 'll come right down to the parlor."
She was there, sure enough, just in time to hear Tracy say: "There, Tom, I told you Johnny Cook knew. And Mrs. Jones would n't let Biddy tell stories about her."
"Wish you a happy New Year, young gentlemen. Have a chair, Mr. Cook. Please be seated, Mr. Plumb and Mr. Fitch. Our young people will be here in a moment."
"We 're not calling on the children to-day," said Johnny, " but you might let them come in."
And in they came, a round half dozen of little Joneses, and Biddy after with a big plate of cake.
"Tom," whispered Tracy, "Johnny said we must n't eat too much in any one place."
"I 'll put the rest of mine in my pocket."
And so he did; but it was a good while before Mrs. Jones got through asking them about their plans for the day, and after that it was hard work to keep Ben Jones from going with them. In fact, the moment they were out of doors again, Ben sat down in a corner and began to howl over it, so that he had to stay in the corner till dinner-time.
"Where 'll we go now, Johnny?"
"Judge Curtin's is the biggest house on the block, boys, and he has n't any children."
"That 's the place. They 'll have ice-cream there, see if they don't."
But the moment the bell of Judge Curtin's door was pulled, the door swung open wide, and there stood his big waiter, in a swallow-tailed coat and white cravat, looking down in wonder on his diminutive guests. It was in vain for Johnny Cook to look big and hold his head up as he handed out the cards, and Tom and Tracy edged a little behind him.
"Vot is dis? You poys vant sometings?"
"New Year's calls," explained Johnny. "Are the ladies at home?"
"So? Very goot. Valk right in. I dake in dose card, too. De madame vill be proud to see you. Valk in."
"Johnny knows," muttered Tom to Tracy. " They 'll have cream here."
"May be some candy, too."
But the big waiter was bowing them into the parlor now, where Mrs. Curtin and her grown-up daughters were entertaining quite an array of their gentlemen friends, and Johnny whispered back:
"Hush, boys! There 's a table, and it's full."
A very large and stately lady was Mrs. Curtin, and it seemed to the three new-comers that everybody in that room was at least a size or two larger than common; but Johnny Cook led them on bravely, and all the ladies bowed very low when they said: "Wish you a happy New Year."
"I am acquainted with Mr. Cook," said Mrs. Curtin, as she held out her hand to him; "but which of you is Mr. Marmaduke Plumb?"
"That 's my papa, ma'am, and I 'm Tracy."
"Oh, you are making his calls for him?"
"No, ma'am ; he 's out, too, but I use some of his cards."
"Exactly. I see. And this is Miss Arabella Fitch?"
"Please, ma'am, if you 'll give me back Belle's card, I 'll give you one of Mother's," said Tom, a little doubtfully.
"Oh, this is just as good. But I must introduce you to the company, while Pierre is getting you some refreshments. Plenty of cream, Pierre, and some confectionery."
"That's it," whispered Tom to Tracy, and the latter answered: "Hush, Tom! Johnny knows."
It was remarkable how very polite were all those tall ladies and gentlemen. One great, thin, yellow-whiskered man, in particular, kept them so long with his questions, that Tom at last felt compelled to remark: "Don't talk to him any more, Johnny; the ice-cream 'll be all melted."
"So it will," said Mrs. Curtin. "Do let them off, Mr. Grant. Were you never a boy?—I mean. a very young gentleman?"
"Never," said Mr. Grant. "I was always old enought to want to eat my cream before it melted. Come, boys, I 'll see you through. I like to associate with follows of my own age. Come on."
He was very grave and dignified about it, but between him and Pierre and Mrs. Curtin, Johnny Cook was compelled to say to his friends:
"We must stop eating, boys, or we can 't be polie in the next house."
But he made no objection to Mr. Grant putting confectionary in their pockets, and the whole company bowed, as Pierre showed them the way to the front door. They wondered what he meant, as he smiled in their faces and said:
"Bon jour, mes enfants."
"What's a bunjer?" asked Tom.
"Johnny knows," began Tracy; but their leader was thinking of something else just then.
"Can you eat any more, boys? I can, if we walk a little."
They said they thought they could.
"Then we 'll go to Dr. Micklin 's. He tended our baby when it had the measles."
Do doctors have any New Year 's day?"
"Don 't you s'pose Johnny knows, Tom?" said Tracy Plumb. "Of course they do."
The doctor lived in a big brick house on a corner, nearly two blocks beyond Judge Curtin 's; but the boys were only half sure they were hungry when they rang the bell.
The door was opened by a gentleman with a coffee-colored face and curly hair, and who could have not been more than twice as old as Tom.
"Is dey anybody took sick at your house?"
"Sick? No," said Johnny. "It 's New Year 's calls. Take our cards to Mrs. Micklin."
"She knows my mother," Tom had said to Johnny, "and I 'll send in her card instead of Belle 's."
Mrs. Micklin was a little, black-eyed woman, with a nose that was almost too sharply pointed, and when the coffee-colored youth handed her those three cards, her first remark was:
"Julius! Julius Caesar! How often have I forbidden you to laugh in that way when you come into my presence? Mrs. Fitch? On New Year 's day? Why, what can have happened? And Mr. Marmaduke Plumb with her? It must be something serious. And Johnny Cook? How I wish the doctor were here. Show them right in, Julius, and stop that giggling."
She had bounced from her chair and was smoothing the folds of her silk dress, nervously, as Julius Caesar chuckled his way back to the front door, and just at that moment a whole sleigh-load of other callers came hurrying up the steps.
"Wish you happy New Year!"
"Happy New Year!" "Happy New Year!"
"Happy New Year, Johnny," said Mrs. Micklin. "But, Tracy, where 's your father? Tom, why does not your mother come in? I told Julius—"
"Why, Mrs. Micklin," said Tom, "it 's only the cards. We passed 'em at Mrs. Jones's and at Judge Curtin's. Only I sent in Belle's there instead of Mother's."
"Why, you mischievous boys! And here you 've frightened me so! I thought something dreadful had happened—"
But at that moment the other visitors came pouring in, and Mrs. Micklin had to say "happy New Year" to them, and shake hands and smile and talk, and the three boys were almost pushed out of the way, while Julius Caesar stood at the parlor door, and seemed to be trying to laugh without making any noise.
"Julius," whispered Tom, as he edged near him, "where 's the ice-cream?"
But Tom's whisper was loud enough to be heard by everybody in the room, for it seemed to slip into a quiet little place in the conversation, and so did Julius Caesar's reply: "Dah aint none."
Mrs. Micklin blushed, and one of her gentlemen guests suddenly remarked:
"My dear Mrs. Micklin, I 'm delighted to see that you have joined the reform movement. You won 't ask your friends to stuff themselves."
And she said something in reply, and the others said something; but Tom Fitch put his lips to Johnny's ear, and said, pretty loudly: "Let 's go. There 's nothing in this house but med'cine."
"Bow to Mrs. Micklin before you go," said Johnny; but everybody in the parlor, excepting the doctor's wife, was laughing about something or other when Julius Caesar opened the front door for those three boys to go out.
"Where 'll we go now, boys?" said Johnny, when they reached the sidewalk.
"There is n't any other place so good as Mrs. Curtin's," remarked Tom.
"Can't go twice to the same house," said Tracy. "Can we, Johnny?"
"No, I s'pose not. But we 've plenty of cards. Let's try that white house over yonder."
"Who lives there?"
"I don't know. But we can find out when we get in."
It was a very nice house, and there were three young ladies in it, and one of them was at that very moment standing by one of the front windows, all hidden among the heavy curtains, and another was saying: "It 's just too bad, girls. Here it is two o'clock, and we 've only had five callers, and one of them was the minister."
"And nobody has eaten anything."
"Hush, girls; what can those three boys be coming here for? I 've seen one of them before. They 're making calls!"
"Tell John to show them right in."
And John did, although Tom Fitch insisted that the cards must go in ahead of them.
"Happy New Year!" "Happy New Year!"
Three on each side, and then the girls talked right on, so fast their callers had no chance to correct the names.
"Johnny, you 'll have some cake?"
"Marmaduke, I must give you some ice-cream."
"Now, Arabella, some chicken-salad."
"My name 's Tom."
"Your card says your name 's Arabella."
"Here 's my other card."
"No, my dear, you 're not a married lady. And you must have a cup of coffee."
Very hospitable indeed were the three young ladies, and by the time they had helped their young callers to several times as much as any three boys could eat, Jenny was able to remark: "Now, girls, the table begins to look as if somebody 'd been here."
"But I think we 'd better go now," said Johnny Cook. "I can't eat any more."
"Oh, very well, my dear; and Arabella too, and Marmaduke."
"That 's my father's name, and mine 's Tracy Plumb."
"Just as good, Tracy. Won 't you eat some more cream?"
"No, ma'am. Johnny says we 'd better go."
The girls were in high glee over their young gentlemen callers; but when the latter reached the sidewalk, Johnny Cook remarked: "I guess we won 't make any more calls. I 'm going home."
"So am I," said Tom. "But I 've four more cards."
"I 've more 'n that," said Tracy; "but I don't want to go anywhere else. I could n't be polite."
Not one of them could have been polite enough to eat another mouthful, and that or something else made them a very sober-looking lot of New Year's day callers, as they walked on down the street.
Tom and Tracy were not heard from again that day; but Johnny Cook wondered, when Uncle Fred came home that night, why he was compelled to give so careful an account of everything.
"You were very polite, everywhere?"
"Yes, Uncle Fred; and at the last place Tom Fitch forgot to bow when he came out, and I made him go 'way back into the parlor and do it."
"That was right. If there was any other place where he forgot it, he ought to go back there next New Year's day and bow."
But Johnny only said: "I don't think I want to eat any supper, to-night, Uncle Fred."
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