"Oh, dear!" moaned Rose. "Everything will get cold, it's so late."
Just then there was a shout from the advance-guard of the twins, and the cavalcade came into view; Jack on Little Shaver, who, after his thirty-mile morning ride, was as fresh as a pastured colt--riding beside Maude Seaton on Old Jo.
There was a general dismounting, assisted by Chi; a gathering and looping up of riding habits; a bit of general brushing down among the men; then, with one accord they turned to the broad step of the porch.
Mrs. Fenlick, telling of it afterwards, said that, for a moment, she did nothing but look with all her eyes; for there on the porch step stood a woman still in the prime of life and beautiful. She was dressed in an India mull of the fashion of a quarter of a century ago, with a lace kerchief folded in a V about the open neck, and fastened with an old-fashioned brooch.
"At her side," said Mrs. Fenlick, "stood one of the loveliest girls off of canvas I have ever seen. She had on a gown of old-fashioned lawn--pale blue with a rose-bud border. She was tall and straight, and the skirt was a little skimpy, and so plain that had she designed it to set off the grace of her figure she could n't have succeeded better.
And the face and head!" Mrs. Fenlick used to wax eloquent at this point--"were simply ideal. Hazel, of course, looked as handsome as a picture in her full, dark blue frock of wash silk trimmed with Irish lace, and with that rich color in her cheeks--but that girl's face was simply divine! Just imagine a complexion of pure white, and dark blue eyes--real violet color--black almost in her pretty excitement of welcoming us, and the loveliest golden brown hair just plaited and puffed a little at the temples, and a braid, that big--" Mrs. Fenlick generally put her two delicate wrists together at this point,--"that fell below her waist fully half a yard! I never saw such hair!"
Mrs. Fenlick used to pause for breath at this point, and then add, "Well, the whole thing was too lovely to be described. Of course, we ate--lots; for that ride and the air were enough to make a saint hungry in Lent, but I was only dimly conscious of ever so many good things I was eating, for that face fascinated me. And manners! Just as if those two women had had nothing to do all their lives but entertain royalty!
"I had sense enough, however, to notice that Jack Sherrill said very little and ate a great deal. I counted twelve rolls--of course they were small--for one thing; and I don't blame him,--I wanted more. Well, the whole thing was perfect--the valley and the great mountains were just in front of the porch, and everything harmonized. Even that lovely girl had a bunch of purple-blue pansies at her belt and a few in the bit of cotton lace at her throat; and the sunset and the mountains matched them--as if she had had the whole thing made to order."
Mrs. Fenlick always ended with, "I 've got one bone to pick with that dear Doctor Heath--a mountain sanatorium! I 'd be willing, almost, to get nervous prostration to be sent up there.
"But oh! you should have seen Maude Seaton!" And thereupon, Mrs.
Fenlick would go off into a fit of laughter at the remembrance. "She was looking about for the 'rigid sunbonnet,' as she called it, of the day before, and did n't hear when Rose Blossom spoke to her; and when she did realize that the two were one and the same, her look was the kind 'Life' likes to get hold of, you know.
"As for Jack Sherrill," Mrs. Fenlick concluded in her most serious manner, "I have my own thoughts about some things." More than that she would not say, for fear it might get back to Maude Seaton's ears.
Jack, too, had his own thoughts about some things--and kept them to himself.
XII
RESULTS
It was the middle of November. A wild, cold wind was sweeping over the Mountain, and driving black clouds in quick succession across the tops of the woodlands. It howled around the farmhouse and, as now and again a more furious blast hurled itself against doors and windows, the children drew nearer together on the rug before the huge fireplace with a delightful sense of safety and cosiness.
A kettle of molasses was simmering on the stove, and Chi was wielding the corn-popper with truly professional skill before the open fire.
It was such fun to see the hurry, and scurry, and hustle, and rattle, and pop, and sudden white transformation of the heated kernels! A huge, wooden bowl received the contents of the popper, and March salted them.
Oh, how good it smelt! And Rose was going to make molasses corn-balls to put aside for the next evening.
"It's just like having a party every night, there are so many of us,"
said Hazel, clapping her hands in delight.
"I should think you 'd miss some of your real parties, Hazel," said Rose, thoughtfully.
"Miss them! Not a bit; why, they are n't half so nice as this, and at home it's so lonesome when papa isn't there. Is n't it lovely to think he 's coming up Christmas? Even up here, you know, it would n't be quite Christmas for me without him. That makes me think, I must write him very soon about some things." Hazel looked mysterious.
"We hung up our stockings last year, but we did n't get what we wanted,"
said Cherry rather mournfully.
"Why not?" asked Hazel.
"Coz Popsey was so sick he could n't go out to the Wishing-Tree, and so he did n't know."
"What is the Wishing-Tree?" said Hazel, consumed with curiosity.
Cherry's mouth was full of corn, so Budd carried on the conversation between mouthfuls.
"I 'll show you to-morrow. It's a big butternut up in the corner of the pasture, an' there 's a little hollow in the trunk where the squirrels used to hide beech-nuts, but March has made a door to it with a hinge and put a little padlock on it--that's the key hanging up on the clock."
Hazel saw a tiny key suspended by a string from one of the pointed knobs that ornamented the tall clock.
"'N' nobody touches it till All-hallow-e'en," said Cherry, when the sound of her munching had somewhat diminished, although her articulation was by no means clear. "'N' then Chi goes up with us in the dark, 'n' we put in our wishes, 'n'--"
"Let me tell Hazel," said Budd. "You 've begun at the wrong end. You see, we write what we want for Christmas down on paper, an' seal it with beeswax, an' then don't tell anybody what we 've written; an' then Chi goes up there with us after dark, an' we 're all dressed up like Injuns--"
"Indians, Budd," corrected March.
"Well, Old Pertic'lar, Indians, then," said Budd, a little crossly, "an'
then--
"Oh, you 've forgot the dish-pan and the little tub," Cherry's voice came muffled through the corn. "We take the dish-pan, Hazel, 'n' the little wash-tub, me 'n' Budd between us, 'n' beat on them with the iron spoon 'n' the dish-mop handle, 'n' play 'tom-toms'--"
"Yes, an' March gives an awful war-whoop--" Budd, in his earnestness, had risen and gone over to Chi's side, and now sat down by the big bowl, but, unfortunately, on the popper which Chi had just emptied. There was a smell of scorched wool, and, simultaneously, a wild, "Oh, gee-whiz!!"
from Budd, who leaped as if shot, and stood ruefully rubbing the seat of his well-patched knicker-bockers, while the rest rolled over on the rug in their merriment.
"Oh, do go on, Budd!" cried Hazel, wiping the tears of mirth from her eyes. Cherry had laughed so hard that she was hiccoughing with outrageous rapidity; and March--forgetting May--chose that opportune moment to give forth a specimen of his best war-whoop, for the purpose, as he explained afterwards, of frightening her out of them.
By the time order had been restored, Cherry was able to take up the thread of the story;
"'N' we join hands--Chi 'n' all of us--'n' sing as loud as we can sing:
"'Intery, mintery, cutery corn, Apple seed, apple thorn; Wire, briar, limber lock, Five geese in a flock-- Sit and sing by the spring; You are OUT.'
Then we all give a great shout and grunt like In-di-ans--," said Cherry, emphatically, looking at March; and March nodded approval.
"How's that?" asked Hazel, who was listening with all her ears.
"A hannah--a hannah--a hannah," grunted the children as well as they could, hampered by mouths full of corn. "An' then," went on Budd, "we drop the wishes into the hollow in the tree-trunk, an' Chi locks the door an' keeps it, an'--"
"'N' each of us ties two feathers from a rooster's tail to different colored strings, 'n' fastens them on to a branch of the tree, 'n' that brings us good luck; March calls it 'winging the wishes.' That's the way we get our presents."
"Oh, what fun!" cried Hazel. "May I do it this year?"
"Course," replied Budd, "but how will your father know anything about it?"
"I never thought of that," said Hazel, all her Christmas castles toppling over suddenly.
"We 'll fix it somehow, Lady-bird," said Chi, who, having finished his labors, had seated himself in a chair behind the children and provided himself with a private bowl of his own.