THE BIRDS' CHRISTMAS CAROL BY KATE DOUGLAS WIGGIN To The Three Dearest Children in the World, BERTHA, LUCY, AND HORATIO. "O little ones, ye cannot know The power with which ye plead, Nor why, as on through life we go, The little child doth lead. " CONTENTS I. A LITTLE SNOW-BIRD II. DROOPING WINGS III. THE BIRD'S NEST IV. "BIRDS OF A FEATHER FLOCK TOGETHER" V. SOME OTHER BIRDS ARE TAUGHT TO FLY VI. "WHEN THE PIE WAS OPENED, THE BIRDS BEGAN TO SING" VII. THE BIRDLING FLIES AWAY The Birds' Christmas Carol. I. A LITTLE SNOW BIRD. It was very early Christmas morning, and in the stillness of the dawn, with the soft snow falling on the housetops, a little child was born inthe Bird household. They had intended to name the baby Lucy, if it were a girl; but theyhadn't expected her on Christmas morning, and a real Christmas baby wasnot to be lightly named--the whole family agreed in that. They were consulting about it in the nursery. Mr. Bird said that hehad assisted in naming the three boys, and that he should leave thismatter entirely to Mrs. Bird; Donald wanted the child called "Maud, "after a pretty little curly-haired girl who sat next him in school;Paul chose "Luella, " for Luella was the nurse who had been with himduring his whole babyhood, up to the time of his first trousers, andthe name suggested all sorts of comfortable things. Uncle Jack saidthat the first girl should always be named for her mother, no matterhow hideous the name happened to be. Grandma said that she would prefer not to take any part in thediscussion, and everybody suddenly remembered that Mrs. Bird hadthought of naming the baby Lucy, for Grandma herself; and, while itwould be indelicate for her to favor that name, it would be againsthuman nature for her to suggest any other, under the circumstances. Hugh, the "hitherto baby, " if that is a possible term, sat in onecorner and said nothing, but felt, in some mysterious way, that hisnose was out of joint; for there was a newer baby now, a possibility hehad never taken into consideration; and the "first girl, " too, a stillhigher development of treason, which made him actually green withjealousy. But it was too profound a subject to be settled then and there, on thespot; besides, Mama had not been asked, and everybody felt it ratherabsurd, after all, to forestall a decree that was certain to beabsolutely wise, just and perfect. The reason that the subject had been brought up at all so early in theday lay in the fact that Mrs. Bird never allowed her babies to go overnight unnamed. She was a person of so great decision of character thatshe would have blushed at such a thing; she said that to let blessedbabies go dangling and dawdling about without names, for months andmonths, was enough to ruin them for life. She also said that if onecould not make up one's mind in twenty-four hours it was a signthat--but I will not repeat the rest, as it might prejudice you againstthe most charming woman in the world. So Donald took his new velocipede and went out to ride up and down thestone pavement and notch the shins of innocent people as they passedby, while Paul spun his musical top on the front steps. But Hugh refused to leave the scene of action. He seated himself onthe top stair in the hall, banged his head against the railing a fewtimes, just by way of uncorking the vials of his wrath, and thensubsided into gloomy silence, waiting to declare war if more "firstgirl babies" were thrust upon a family already surfeited with thatunnecessary article. Meanwhile dear Mrs. Bird lay in her room, weak, but safe and happy withher sweet girl baby by her side and the heaven of motherhood openingbefore her. Nurse was making gruel in the kitchen, and the room wasdim and quiet. There was a cheerful open fire in the grate, but thoughthe shutters were closed, the side windows that looked out on theChurch of our Saviour, next door, were wide open. Suddenly a sound of music poured out into the bright air and driftedinto the chamber. It was the boy-choir singing Christmas anthems. Higher and higher rose the clear, fresh voices, full of hope and cheer, as children's voices always are. Fuller and fuller grew the burst ofmelody as one glad strain fell upon another in joyful harmony: "Carol, brothers, carol, Carol joyfully, Carol the good tidings, Carol merrily! And pray a gladsome Christmas For all your fellow-men; Carol, brothers, carol, Christmas Day again. " One verse followed another always with the same glad refrain: "And pray a gladsome Christmas For all your fellow-men: Carol, brothers, carol, Christmas Day again. " Mrs. Bird thought, as the music floated in upon her gentle sleep, thatshe had slipped into heaven with her new baby, and that the angels werebidding them welcome. But the tiny bundle by her side stirred alittle, and though it was scarcely more than the ruffling of a feather, she awoke; for the mother-ear is so close to the heart that it can hearthe faintest whisper of a child. She opened her eyes and drew the baby closer. It looked like a rosedipped in milk, she thought, this pink and white blossom of girlhood, or like a pink cherub, with its halo of pale yellow hair, finer thanfloss silk. "Carol, brothers, carol, Carol joyfully, Carol the good tidings, Carol merrily!" The voices were brimming over with joy. "Why, my baby, " whispered Mrs. Bird in soft surprise, "I had forgottenwhat day it was. You are a little Christmas child, and we will nameyou 'Carol'--mother's little Christmas Carol!" "What!" said Mr. Bird, coming in softly and closing the door behind him. "Why, Donald, don't you think 'Carol' is a sweet name for a Christmasbaby? It came to me just a moment ago in the singing as I was lyinghere half asleep and half awake. " "I think it is a charming name, dear heart, and that it sounds justlike you, and I hope that, being a girl, this baby has some chance ofbeing as lovely as her mother, " at which speech from the baby's papa, Mrs. Bird, though she was as weak and tired as she could be, blushedwith happiness. And so Carol came by her name. Of course, it was thought foolish by many people, though Uncle Jackdeclared laughingly that it was very strange if a whole family of Birdscould not be indulged in a single Carol; and Grandma, who adored thechild, thought the name much more appropriate than Lucy, but was gladthat people would probably think it short for Caroline. Perhaps because she was born in holiday time, Carol was a very happybaby. Of course, she was too tiny to understand the joy ofChristmas-tide, but people say there is everything in a good beginning, and she may have breathed-in unconsciously the fragrance of evergreensand holiday dinners; while the peals of sleigh-bells and the laughterof happy children may have fallen upon her baby ears and wakened inthem a glad surprise at the merry world she had come to live in. Her cheeks and lips were as red as holly berries; her hair was for allthe world the color of a Christmas candle-flame; her eyes were brightas stars; her laugh like a chime of Christmas bells, and her tiny handsforever outstretched in giving. Such a generous little creature you never saw! A spoonful of bread andmilk had always to be taken by Mama or nurse before Carol could enjoyher supper; and whatever bit of cake or sweetmeat found its way intoher pretty fingers, it was straightway broken in half and shared withDonald, Paul or Hugh; and, when they made believe nibble the morselwith affected enjoyment, she would clap her hands and crow withdelight. "Why does she do it?" asked Donald, thoughtfully; "None of usboys ever did. " "I hardly know, " said Mama, catching her darling toher heart, "except that she is a little Christmas child, and so she hasa tiny share of the blessedest birthday the world ever saw!" II. DROOPING WINGS. It was December, ten years later. Carol had seen nine Christmas treeslighted on her birthdays, one after another; nine times she hadassisted in the holiday festivities of the household, though in herbabyhood her share of the gayeties was somewhat limited. For five years, certainly, she had hidden presents for Mama and Papa intheir own bureau drawers, and harbored a number of secrets sufficientlylarge to burst a baby's brain, had it not been for the relief gained bywhispering them all to Mama, at night, when she was in her crib, aproceeding which did not in the least lessen the value of a secret inher innocent mind. For five years she had heard "'Twas the night before Christmas, " andhung up a scarlet stocking many sizes too large for her, and pinned asprig of holly on her little white night gown, to show Santa Claus thatshe was a "truly" Christmas child, and dreamed of fur-coated saints andtoy-packs and reindeer, and wished everybody a "Merry Christmas" beforeit was light in the morning, and lent every one of her new toys to theneighbors' children before noon, and eaten turkey and plum pudding, andgone to bed at night in a trance of happiness at the day's pleasures. Donald was away at college now. Paul and Hugh were great manlyfellows, taller than their mother. Papa Bird had grey hairs in hiswhiskers; and Grandma, God bless her, had been four Christmases inheaven. But Christmas in the Birds' Nest was scarcely as merry now asit used to be in the bygone years, for the little child that oncebrought such an added blessing to the day, lay, month after month, apatient, helpless invalid, in the room where she was born. She had never been very strong in body, and it was with a pang ofterror her mother and father noticed, soon after she was five yearsold, that she began to limp, ever so slightly; to complain too often ofweariness, and to nestle close to her mother, saying she "would rathernot go out to play, please. " The illness was slight at first, and hopewas always stirring in Mrs. Bird's heart. "Carol would feel strongerin the summer-time;" or, "She would be better when she had spent a yearin the country;" or, "She would outgrow it;" or, "They would try a newphysician;" but by and by it came to be all too sure that no physiciansave One could make Carol strong again, and that no "summer-time" nor"country air, " unless it were the everlasting summer-time in a heavenlycountry, could bring back the little girl to health. The cheeks and lips that were once as red as holly-berries faded tofaint pink; the star-like eyes grew softer, for they often gleamedthrough tears; and the gay child-laugh, that had been like a chime ofChristmas bells, gave place to a smile so lovely, so touching, sotender and patient, that it filled every corner of the house with agentle radiance that might have come from the face of the Christ-childhimself. Love could do nothing; and when we have said that we have said all, forit is stronger than anything else in the whole wide world. Mr. AndMrs. Bird were talking it over one evening when all the children wereasleep. A famous physician had visited them that day, and told themthat sometime, it might be in one year, it might be in more, Carolwould slip quietly off into heaven, whence she came. "Dear heart, " said Mr. Bird, pacing up and down the library floor, "itis no use to shut our eyes to it any longer; Carol will never be wellagain. It almost seems as if I could not bear it when I think of thatloveliest child doomed to lie there day after day, and, what is stillmore, to suffer pain that we are helpless to keep away from her. MerryChristmas, indeed; it gets to be the saddest day in the year to me!"and poor Mr. Bird sank into a chair by the table, and buried his facein his hands, to keep his wife from seeing the tears that would come inspite of all his efforts. "But, Donald, dear, " said sweet Mrs. Bird, with trembling voice, "Christmas day may not be so merry with us as itused, but it is very happy, and that is better, and very blessed, andthat is better yet. I suffer chiefly for Carol's sake, but I havealmost given up being sorrowful for my own. I am too happy in thechild, and I see too clearly what she has done for us and for our boys. " "That's true, bless her sweet heart, " said Mr. Bird; "she has beenbetter than a daily sermon in the house ever since she was born, andespecially since she was taken ill. " "Yes, Donald and Paul and Hugh were three strong, willful, boisterousboys, but you seldom see such tenderness, devotion, thought for othersand self-denial in lads of their years. A quarrel or a hot word isalmost unknown in this house. Why? Carol would hear it, and it woulddistress her, she is so full of love and goodness. The boys study withall their might and main. Why? Partly, at least, because they like toteach Carol, and amuse her by telling her what they read. When theseamstress comes, she likes to sew in Miss Carol's room, because thereshe forgets her own troubles, which, Heaven knows, are sore enough!And as for me, Donald, I am a better woman every day for Carol's sake;I have to be her eyes, ears, feet, hands--her strength, her hope; andshe, my own little child, is my example!" "I was wrong, dear heart, " said Mr. Bird more cheerfully; "we will trynot to repine, but to rejoice instead, that we have an 'angel of thehouse' like Carol. " "And as for her future, " Mrs. Bird went on, "I think we need not beover-anxious. I feel as if she did not belong altogether to us, andwhen she has done what God sent her for, He will take her back toHimself--and it may not be very long!" Here it was poor Mrs. Bird'sturn to break down, and Mr. Bird's turn to comfort her. III. THE BIRD'S NEST. Carol herself knew nothing of motherly tears and fatherly anxieties;she lived on peacefully in the room where she was born. But you never would have known that room; for Mr. Bird had a great dealof money, and though he felt sometimes as if he wanted to throw it allin the ocean, since it could not buy a strong body for his little girl, yet he was glad to make the place she lived in just as beautiful as itcould be made. The room had been extended by the building of a large addition thathung out over the garden below, and was so filled with windows that itmight have been a conservatory. The ones on the side were thus stillnearer the little Church of our Saviour than they used to be; those infront looked out on the beautiful harbor, and those in the backcommanded a view of nothing in particular but a littlealley--nevertheless, they were pleasantest of all to Carol, for theRuggles family lived in the alley, and the nine little, middle-sizedand big Ruggles children were the source of inexhaustible interest. The shutters could all be opened and Carol could take a real sun-bathin this lovely glass-house, or they could all be closed when the dearhead ached or the dear eyes were tired. The carpet was of soft grey, with clusters of green bay and holly leaves. The furniture was ofwhite wood, on which an artist had painted snow scenes and Christmastrees and groups of merry children ringing bells and singing carols. Donald had made a pretty, polished shelf and screwed it on to theoutside of the footboard, and the boys always kept this full ofblooming plants, which they changed from time to time; the head-board, too, had a bracket on either side, where there were pots of maidenhairferns. Love-birds and canaries hung in their golden houses in the windows, andthey, poor caged things, could hop as far from their wooden perches asCarol could venture from her little white bed. On one side of the room was a bookcase filled with hundreds--yes, Imean it--with hundreds and hundreds of books; books with gay-coloredpictures, books without; books with black and white outline-sketches, books with none at all; books with verses, books with stories, booksthat made children laugh, and some that made them cry; books with wordsof one syllable for tiny boys and girls, and books with words offearful length to puzzle wise ones. This was Carol's "Circulating Library. " Every Saturday she chose tenbooks, jotting their names down in a little diary; into these sheslipped cards that said: "Please keep this book two weeks and read it. With love, Carol Bird. " Then Mrs. Bird stepped into her carriage, and took the ten books to theChildrens' Hospital, and brought home ten others that she had leftthere the fortnight before. This was a source of great happiness; for some of the Hospital childrenthat were old enough to print or write, and were strong enough to doit, wrote Carol cunning little letters about the books, and sheanswered them, and they grew to be friends. (It is very funny, but youdo not always have to see people to love them. Just think about it, and see if it isn't so. ) There was a high wainscoting of wood about the room, and on top ofthis, in a narrow gilt framework, ran a row of illuminated pictures, illustrating fairy tales, all in dull blue and gold and scarlet andsilver and other lovely colors. From the door to the closet there wasthe story of "The Fair One with Golden Locks;" from closet to bookcase, ran "Puss in Boots;" from bookcase to fireplace, was "Jack theGiant-killer;" and on the other side of the room were "Hop o' myThumb, " "The Sleeping Beauty, " and "Cinderella. " Then there was a great closet full of beautiful things to wear--butthey were all dressing-gowns and slippers and shawls; and there weredrawers full of toys and games; but they were such as you could playwith on your lap. There were no ninepins, nor balls, nor bows andarrows, nor bean bags, nor tennis rackets; but, after all, otherchildren needed these more than Carol Bird, for she was always happyand contented whatever she had or whatever she lacked; and after theroom had been made so lovely for her, on her eighth Christmas, shealways called herself, in fun, a "Bird of Paradise. " On these particular December days she was happier than usual, for UncleJack was coming from Europe to spend the holidays. Dear, funny, jolly, loving, wise Uncle Jack, who came every two or three years, and broughtso much joy with him that the world looked as black as a thunder-cloudfor a week after he went away again. The mail had brought this letter:-- "LONDON, Nov. 28th, 188-. Wish you merry Christmas, you dearest birdlings in America! Preen yourfeathers, and stretch the Birds' nest a little, if you please, and letUncle Jack in for the holidays. I am coming with such a trunk full oftreasures that you'll have to borrow the stockings of Barnum's Giantand Giantess; I am coming to squeeze a certain little lady-bird untilshe cries for mercy; I am coming to see if I can find a boy to takecare of a little black pony I bought lately. It's the strangest thingI ever knew; I've hunted all over Europe, and can't find a boy to suitme! I'll tell you why. I've set my heart on finding one with a dimplein his chin, because this pony particularly likes dimples! ['Hurrah!'cried Hugh; 'bless my dear dimple; I'll never be ashamed of it again. ']Please drop a note to the clerk of the weather, and have a good, rousing snow-storm--say on the twenty-second. None of your meek, gentle, nonsensical, shilly-shallying snow-storms; not the sort wherethe flakes float lazily down from the sky as if they didn't carewhether they ever got here or not, and then melt away as soon as theytouch the earth, but a regular business-like whizzing, whirring, blurring, cutting snow-storm, warranted to freeze and stay on! I should like rather a LARGE Christmas tree, if it's convenient--notone of those 'sprigs, ' five or six feet high, that you used to havethree or four years ago, when the birdlings were not fairly featheredout, but a tree of some size. Set it up in the garret, if necessary, and then we can cut a hole in the roof if the tree chances to be toohigh for the room. Tell Bridget to begin to fatten a turkey. Tell her by the twentieth ofDecember that turkey must not be able to stand on its legs for fat, andthen on the next three days she must allow it to recline easily on itsside, and stuff it to bursting. (One ounce of stuffing beforehand isworth a pound afterwards. ) The pudding must be unusually huge, and darkly, deeply, lugubriouslyblack in color. It must be stuck so full of plums that the puddingitself will ooze out into the pan and not be brought on to the table atall. I expect to be there by the twentieth, to manage these littlethings--remembering it is the early Bird that catches the worm--butgive you the instructions in case I should be delayed. And Carol must decide on the size of the tree--she knows best, she wasa Christmas child; and she must plead for the snow-storm--the 'clerk ofthe weather' may pay some attention to her; and she must look up theboy with the dimple for me--she's likelier to find him than I am, thisminute. She must advise about the turkey, and Bridget must bring thepudding to her bedside and let her drop every separate plum into it andstir it once for luck, or I'll not eat a single slice--for Carol is thedearest part of Christmas to Uncle Jack, and he'll have none of itwithout her. She is better than all the turkeys and puddings andapples and spare-ribs and wreaths and garlands and mistletoe andstockings and chimneys and sleigh-bells in Christendom. She is thevery sweetest Christmas Carol that was ever written, said, sung orchanted, and I am coming, as fast as ships and railway trains can carryme, to tell her so. " Carol's joy knew no bounds. Mr. And Mrs. Bird laughed like childrenand kissed each other for sheer delight, and when the boys heard itthey simply whooped like wild Indians, until the Ruggles family, whoseback yard joined their garden, gathered at the door and wondered whatwas "up" in the big house. IV. "BIRDS OF A FEATHER FLOCK TOGETHER. " Uncle Jack did really come on the twentieth. He was not detained bybusiness, nor did he get left behind nor snowed up, as frequentlyhappens in stories, and in real life too, I am afraid. The snow-stormcame also; and the turkey nearly died a natural and premature deathfrom over-eating. Donald came, too; Donald, with a line of down uponhis upper lip, and Greek and Latin on his tongue, and stores ofknowledge in his handsome head, and stories--bless me, you couldn'tturn over a chip without reminding Donald of something that happened"at College. " One or the other was always at Carol's bedside, for they fancied herpaler than she used to be, and they could not bear her out of sight. It was Uncle lack, though, who sat beside her in the winter twilights. The room was quiet, and almost dark, save for the snow-light outside, and the flickering flame of the fire, that danced over the "SleepingBeauty's" face, and touched the Fair One's golden locks with ruddierglory. Carol's hand (all too thin and white these latter days) layclose clasped in Uncle Jack's, and they talked together quietly ofmany, many things. "I want to tell you all about my plans forChristmas this year, Uncle Jack, " said Carol, on the first evening ofhis visit, "because it will be the loveliest one I ever had. The boyslaugh at me for caring so much about it; but it isn't altogetherbecause it is Christmas nor because it is my birthday; but long, longago, when I first began to be ill, I used to think, the first thingwhen I waked on Christmas morning, 'To-day is Christ's birthday--ANDMINE!' I did not put the words close together, because that made itseem too bold but I first thought, 'Christ's birthday, ' and then, in aminute, softly to myself--AND MINE!' 'Christ's birthday--AND MINE!'And so I do not quite feel about Christmas as other girls do. Mamasays she supposes that ever so many other children have been born onthat day. I often wonder where they are, Uncle Jack, and whether it isa dear thought to them, too, or whether I am so much in bed, and sooften alone, that it means more to me. Oh, I do hope that none of themare poor, or cold, or hungry; and I wish, I wish they were all as happyas I, because they are my little brothers and sisters. Now, UncleJack, dear, I am going to try and make somebody happy every singleChristmas that I live, and this year it is to be the 'Ruggleses in therear. '" "That large and interesting brood of children in the little house atthe end of the back garden?" "Yes; isn't it nice to see so many together? We ought to call them theRuggles children, of course; but Donald began talking of them as the'Ruggleses in the rear, ' and Papa and Mama took it up, and now wecannot seem to help it. The house was built for Mr. Carter's coachman, but Mr. Carter lives in Europe, and the gentleman who rents his placedoesn't care what happens to it, and so this poor Irish family came tolive there. When they first moved in, I used to sit in my window andwatch them play in their backyard; they are so strong, and jolly, andgood-natured; and then, one day, I had a terrible headache, and Donaldasked them if they would please not scream quite so loud, and theyexplained that they were having a game of circus, but that they wouldchange and play 'Deaf and Dumb School' all the afternoon. " "Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Uncle Jack, "what an obliging family, to be sure. " "Yes, we all thought it very funny, and I smiled at them from thewindow when I was well enough to be up again. Now, Sarah Maud comes toher door when the children come home from school, and if Mama nods herhead, 'Yes, ' that means 'Carol is very well, ' and then you ought tohear the little Ruggleses yell--I believe they try to see how muchnoise they can make; but if Mama shakes her head, 'No, ' they alwaysplay at quiet games. Then, one day, 'Cary, ' my pet canary, flew out ofher cage, and Peter Ruggles caught her and brought her back, and I hadhim up here in my room to thank him. " "Is Peter the oldest?" "No; Sarah Maud is the oldest--she helps do the washing; and Peter isthe next. He is a dressmaker's boy. " "And which is the pretty little red-haired girl?" "That's Kitty. " "And the fat youngster?" "Baby Larry. " "And that freckled one?" "Now, don't laugh--that's Peoria!" "Carol, you are joking. " "No, really, Uncle dear. She was born in Peoria; that's all. " "And is the next boy Oshkosh?" "No, " laughed Carol, "the others are Susan, and Clement, and Eily, andCornelius. " "How did you ever learn all their names?" "Well, I have what I call a 'window-school. ' It is too cold now; butin warm weather I am wheeled out on my little balcony, and theRuggleses climb up and walk along our garden fence, and sit down on theroof of our carriage-house. That brings them quite near, and I read tothem and tell them stories; On Thanksgiving Day they came up for a fewminutes, it was quite warm at eleven o'clock, and we told each otherwhat we had to be thankful for; but they gave such queer answers thatPapa had to run away for fear of laughing; and I couldn't understandthem very well. Susan was thankful for 'TRUNKS, ' of all things in theworld; Cornelius, for 'horse cars;' Kitty, for 'pork steak;' whileClem, who is very quiet, brightened up when I came to him, and said hewas thankful for 'HIS LAME PUPPY. ' Wasn't that pretty?" "It might teach some of us a lesson, mightn't it, little girl?" "That's what Mama said. Now I'm going to give this whole Christmas tothe Ruggleses; and, Uncle Jack, I earned part of the money myself. " "You, my bird; how?" "Well, you see, it could not be my own, own Christmas if Papa gave meall the money, and I thought to really keep Christ's birthday I oughtto do something of my very own; and so I talked with Mama. Of courseshe thought of something lovely; she always does; Mama's head is justbrimming over with lovely thoughts, and all I have to do is ask, andout pops the very one I want. This thought was, to let her write down, just as I told her, a description of how a little girl lived in her ownroom three years, and what she did to amuse herself; and we sent it toa magazine and got twenty-five dollars for it. Just think!" "Well, well, " cried Uncle Jack, "my little girl a real author! Andwhat are you going to do with this wonderful 'own' money of yours?" "I shall give the nine Ruggleses a grand Christmas dinner here in thisvery room--that will be Papa's contribution, and afterwards a beautifulChristmas tree, fairly blooming with presents--that will be my part;for I have another way of adding to my twenty-five dollars, so that Ican buy everything I like. I should like it very much if you would sitat the head of the table, Uncle Jack, for nobody could ever befrightened of you, you dearest, dearest, dearest thing that ever was!Mama is going to help us, but Papa and the boys are going to eattogether down stairs for fear of making the little Ruggleses shy; andafter we've had a merry time with the tree we can open my window andall listen together to the music at the evening church-service, if itcomes before the children go. I have written a letter to the organist, and asked him if I might have the two songs I like best. Will you seeif it is all right?" "BIRDS NEST, Dec. 21st, 188-. DEAR MR. WILKIE, -- I am the little sick girl who lives next door to the church, and, as Iseldom go out, the music on practice days and Sundays is one of mygreatest pleasures. I want to know if you can let the boys sing 'Carol, brothers, carol, 'on Christmas night, and if the one who sings 'My ain countree' sobeautifully may please sing that too. I think it is the loveliest songin the world, but it always makes me cry; doesn't it you? If it isn't too much trouble, I hope they can sing them both quiteearly, as after ten o'clock I may be asleep. --Yours respectfully, CAROL BIRD. P. S. --The reason I like 'Carol, brothers, carol, ' is because thechoir-boys sang it eleven years ago, the morning I was born, and put itinto Mama's head to call me Carol. She didn't remember then that myother name would be Bird, because she was half asleep, and couldn'tthink of but one thing at a time. Donald says if I had been born onthe Fourth of July they would have named me 'Independence, ' or if onthe twenty-second of February, 'Georgina, ' or even 'Cherry, ' likeCherry in Martin Chuzzlewit; but I like my own name and birthday best. --Yours truly, CAROL BIRD. " Uncle Jack thought the letter quite right, and did not even smile ather telling the organist so many family items. The days flew by, asthey always fly in holiday time, and it was Christmas eve beforeanybody knew it. The family festival was quiet and very pleasant, butquite swallowed up in the grander preparations for next day. Carol andElfrida, her pretty German nurse, had ransacked books, and introducedso many plans, and plays, and customs and merry-makings from Germany, and Holland, and England and a dozen other places, that you wouldscarcely have known how or where you were keeping Christmas. The dogand the cat had enjoyed their celebration under Carol's direction. Each had a tiny table with a lighted candle in the center, and a bit ofBologna sausage placed very near it, and everybody laughed till thetears stood in their eyes to see Villikins and Dinah struggle to nibblethe sausages, and at the same time evade the candle flame. Villikinsbarked, and sniffed, and howled in impatience, and after many vainattempts succeeded in dragging off the prize, though he singed his nosein doing it. Dinah, meanwhile, watched him placidly, her delicatenostrils quivering with expectation, and, after all excitement hadsubsided, walked with dignity to the table, her beautiful gray satintail sweeping behind her, and, calmly putting up one velvet paw, drewthe sausage gently down, and walked out of the room without "turning ahair, " so to speak. Elfrida had scattered handfuls of seeds over thesnow in the garden, that the wild birds might have a comfortablebreakfast next morning, and had stuffed bundles of dried grasses in thefireplaces, so that the reindeer of Santa Claus could refreshthemselves after their long gallops across country. This was reallyonly done for fun, but it pleased Carol. And when, after dinner, the whole family had gone to church to see theChristmas decorations, Carol limped wearily out on her little crutches, and, with Elfrida's help, placed all the family boots in a row in theupper hall. That was to keep the dear ones from quarreling all throughthe year. There were Papa's stout top boots; Mama's pretty buttonedshoes next; then Uncle Jack's, Donald's, Paul's and Hugh's; and at theend of the line her own little white worsted slippers. Last, andsweetest of all, like the little children in Austria, she put a lightedcandle in her window to guide the dear Christ-child, lest he shouldstumble in the dark night as he passed up the deserted street. Thisdone, she dropped into bed, a rather tired, but very happy Christmasfairy. V. SOME OTHER BIRDS ARE TAUGHT TO FLY. Before the earliest Ruggles could wake and toot his five-cent tin horn, Mrs. Ruggles was up and stirring about the house, for it was a gala dayin the family. Gala day! I should think so! Were not her nine"childern" invited to a dinner-party at the great house, and weren'tthey going to sit down free and equal with the mightiest in the land?She had been preparing for this grand occasion ever since the receiptof the invitation, which, by the way, had been speedily enshrined in anold photograph frame and hung under the looking-glass in the mostprominent place in the kitchen, where it stared the occasional visitordirectly in the eye, and made him pale with envy: "BIRDS' NEST, Dec. 17th, 188-. DEAR MRS. RUGGLES, -- I am going to have a dinner-party on Christmas day, and would like tohave all your children come. I want them every one, please, from SarahMaud to Baby Larry. Mama says dinner will be at half-past five, andthe Christmas tree at seven; so you may expect them home at nineo'clock. Wishing you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, I am, yours truly, CAROL BIRD. " Breakfast was on the table promptly at seven o'clock, and there wasvery little of it, too; for it was an excellent day for short rations, though Mrs. Ruggles heaved a sigh as she reflected that even the boys, with their India-rubber stomachs, would be just as hungry the day afterthe dinner-party as if they had never had any at all. As soon as the scanty meal was over, she announced the plan of thecampaign: "Now Susan, you an' Kitty wash up the dishes; an' Peter, can't you spread up the beds, so't I can git ter cuttin' out Larry'snew suit? I ain't satisfied with his close, an' I thought in the nightof a way to make him a dress out of my old plaid shawl--kind o' Scotchstyle, yer know. You other boys clear out from under foot! Clem, youand Con hop into bed with Larry while I wash yer underflannins; 'twonttake long to dry 'em. Sarah Maud, I think 'twould be perfeckly han'somif you ripped them brass buttons off yer uncle's policeman's coat an'sewed 'em in a row up the front o' yer green skirt. Susan, you mustiron out yours an' Kitty's apurns; an' there, I came mighty nearforgettin' Peory's stockin's! I counted the whole lot last night whenI was washin' of 'em, an' there ain't but nineteen anyhow yer fix 'em, an' no nine pairs mates nohow; an' I ain't goin' ter have my childernwear odd stockin's to a dinner-comp'ny, brought up as I was! Eily, can't you run out and ask Mis' Cullen ter lend me a pair o' stockin'sfor Peory, an' tell her if she will, Peory'll give Jim half her candywhen she gets home. Won't yer, Peory?" Peoria was young and greedy, and thought the remedy so much worse thanthe disease that she set up a deafening howl at the projectedbargain--a howl so rebellious and so out of all season that her motherstarted in her direction with flashing eye and uplifted hand; but shelet it fall suddenly, saying, "No, I won't lick ye Christmas day, ifyer drive me crazy; but speak up smart, now, 'n say whether yer'druther give Tim Cullen half yer candy or go bare-legged ter the party?"The matter being put so plainly, Peoria collected her faculties, driedher tears and chose the lesser evil, Clem having hastened the decisionby an affectionate wink, that meant he'd go halves with her on hiscandy. "That's a lady;" cried her mother. "Now, you young ones that ain'tdoin' nothin', play all yer want ter before noontime, for after ye gitthrough eatin' at twelve o'clock me 'n Sarah Maud's goin' ter give yersuch a washin' an' combin' an' dressin' as yer never had before an'never will agin, an' then I'm goin' to set yer down an' give yer twosolid hours trainin' in manners; an' 'twon't be no foolin' neither. " "All we've got ter do 's go eat!" grumbled Peter. "Well, that's enough, " responded his mother; "there's more 'n one wayof eatin', let me tell yer, an' you've got a heap ter learn about it, Peter Ruggles. Lord sakes, I wish you childern could see the way I wasfetched up to eat--never took a meal o' vittles in the kitchen before Imarried Ruggles; but yer can't keep up that style with nine young ones'n yer Pa always off ter sea. " The big Ruggleses worked so well, and the little Ruggleses kept from"under foot" so successfully, that by one o'clock nine complete toiletswere laid out in solemn grandeur on the beds. I say, "complete;" but Ido not know whether they would be called so in the best society. Thelaw of compensation had been well applied; he that had necktie had nocuffs; she that had sash had no handkerchief, and vice versa; but theyall had boots and a certain amount of clothing, such as it was, theoutside layer being in every case quite above criticism. "Now, Sarah Maud, " said Mrs. Ruggles, her face shining with excitement, "everything is red up an' we can begin. I've got a boiler 'n a kettle'n a pot o' hot water. Peter, you go into the back bedroom, an' I'lltake Susan, Kitty, Peory an' Cornelius; an' Sarah Maud, you take Clem, 'n Eily, 'n Larry, one to a time, an' git as fur as you can with 'em, an' then I'll finish 'em off while you do yerself. " Sarah Maud couldn't have scrubbed with any more decision and force ifshe had been doing floors, and the little Ruggleses bore it bravely, not from natural heroism, but for the joy that was set before them. Not being satisfied, however, with the "tone" of their complexions, shewound up operations by applying a little Bristol brick from theknife-board, which served as the proverbial "last straw, " from underwhich the little Ruggleses issued rather red and raw and out of temper. When the clock struck three they were all clothed, and most of them intheir right minds, ready for those last touches that always take themost time. Kitty's red hair was curled in thirty-four ringlets, SarahMaud's was braided in one pig-tail, and Susan's and Eily's in twobraids apiece, while Peoria's resisted all advances in the shape ofhair oils and stuck out straight on all sides, like that of theCircassian girl of the circus--so Clem said; and he was sent into thebed-room for it too, from whence he was dragged out forgivingly byPeoria herself, five minutes later. Then--exciting moment--came linencollars for some and neckties and bows for others, and Eureka! theRuggleses were dressed, and Solomon in all his glory was not arrayedlike one of these! A row of seats was formed directly through themiddle of the kitchen. There were not quite chairs enough for ten, since the family had rarely all wanted to sit down at once, somebodyalways being out, or in bed, but the wood box and the coal-hod finishedout the line nicely. The children took their places according to age, Sarah Maud at the head and Larry on the coal-hod, and Mrs. Rugglesseated herself in front, surveying them proudly as she wiped the sweatof honest toil from her brow. "Well, " she exclaimed, "if I do say so as shouldn't, I never see acleaner, more stylish mess o' childern in my life! I do wish Rugglescould look at ye for a minute! Now, I've of 'en told ye what kind of afamily the McGrills was. I've got some reason to be proud; your uncleis on the po-lice force o' New York city; you can take up the newspapermost any day an' see his name printed right out--James McGrill, and Ican't have my childern fetched up common, like some folks. When theygo out they've got to have close, and learn ter act decent! Now, Iwant ter see how yer goin' to behave when yer git there to-night. Let's start in at the beginnin' 'n act out the whole business. Pileinto the bed-room, there, every last one of ye, an' show me how yergoin' ter go in't the parlor. This'll be the parlor 'n I'll be Mis'Bird. " The youngsters hustled into the next room in high glee, andMrs. Ruggles drew herself up in her chair with an infinitely haughtyand purse-proud expression that much better suited a descendant of theMcGrills than modest Mrs. Bird. The bed-room was small, and therepresently ensued such a clatter that you would have thought a herd ofwild cattle had broken loose; the door opened, and they straggled in, all the little ones giggling, with Sarah Maud at the head, looking asif she had been caught in the act of stealing sheep; while Larry, beinglast in line, seemed to think the door a sort of gate of heaven whichwould be shut in his face if he didn't get there in time; accordinglyhe struggled ahead of his elders and disgraced himself by tumbling inhead foremost. Mrs. Ruggles looked severe. "There, I knew yer'd do it in some sechfool-way, --try it agin 'n if Larry can't come in on two legs he canstay ter home!" The matter began to assume a graver aspect; the little Rugglesesstopped giggling and backed into the bed-room, issuing presently withlock step, Indian file, a scared and hunted expression in everycountenance. "No, no, no!" cried Mrs. Ruggles, in despair; "Yer look for all theworld like a gang o' pris'ners; there ain't no style ter that; spreadout more, can't yer, an' act kind o' careless like--nobody's goin' terkill ye!" The third time brought deserved success, and the pupils tooktheir seats in the row. "Now, yer know, " said Mrs. Ruggles, "thereain't enough decent hats to go round, an' if there was I don' know 'sI'd let yer wear 'em, for the boys would never think to take 'em offwhen they got inside--but, anyhow, there ain't enough good ones. Now, look me in the eye. You needn't wear no hats, none of yer, en' whenyer get int' the parlor 'n they ask yer ter lay off yer hats, SarahMaud must speak up an' say it was sech a pleasant evenin' an' sech ashort walk that you left yer hats to home to save trouble. Now, canyou remember?" All the little Ruggleses shouted, "Yes, marm, " in chorus. "What have you got ter do with it, " demanded their mother; "did I tellYOU to say it! Wasn't I talkin' ter Sarah Maud?" The little Ruggleseshung their diminished heads. "Yes, marm, " they piped, more feebly. "Now git up, all of ye, an' try it. Speak up, Sarah Maud. " Sarah Maud's tongue clove to the roof of her mouth. "Quick!" "Ma thought--it was--sech a pleasant hat that we'd--we'd better leaveour short walk to home, " recited Sarah Maud, in an agony of mentaleffort. This was too much for the boys. "Oh, whatever shall I do with ye?" moaned the unhappy mother; "Isuppose I've got to learn it to yer!" which she did, word for word, until Sarah Maud thought she could stand on her head and say itbackwards. "Now, Cornelius, what are YOU goin' ter say ter make yerself goodcomp'ny?" "Dunno!" said Cornelius, turning pale. "Well, ye ain't goin' to set there like a bump on a log 'thout sayin' aword ter pay for yer vittles, air ye? Ask Mis' Bird how she's feelin'this evenin', or if Mr. Bird's havin' a busy season, or somethin' likethat. Now we'll make b'lieve we've got ter the dinner--that won't beso hard, 'cause yer'll have somethin' to do--it's awful bothersome terstan' round an' act stylish. If they have napkins, Sarah Maud down toPeory may put 'em in their laps 'n the rest of ye can tuck 'em in yernecks. Don't eat with yer fingers--don't grab no vittles off one'nother's plates; don't reach out for nothin', but wait till yer asked, 'n if yer never GIT asked don't git up and grab it--don't spill nothin'on the table cloth, or like's not Mis' Bird 'll send yer away from thetable. Now we'll try a few things ter see how they'll go! Mr. Clement, do you eat cramb'ry sarse?" "Bet yer life!" cried Clem, who, not having taken in the idea exactly, had mistaken this for an ordinary family question. "Clement Ruggles, do you mean to tell me that you'd say that to adinner party? I'll give ye one more chance. Mr. Clement, will youtake some of the cramb'ry?" "Yes marm, thank ye kindly, if you happen ter have any handy. " "Very good, indeed! Mr. Peter, do you speak for white or dark meat?" "I ain't particler as ter color--anything that nobody else wants willsuit me, " answered Peter with his best air. "First rate! nobody could speak more genteel than that. Miss Kitty, will you have hard or soft sarse with your pudden?" "A little of both if you please, an' I'm much obliged, " said Kitty withdecided ease and grace, at which all the other Ruggleses pointed thefinger of shame at her and Peter GRUNTED expressively, that theirmeaning might not be mistaken. "You just stop your gruntin', Peter Ruggles; that was all right. Iwish I could git it inter your heads that it ain't so much what yersay, as the way yer say it. Eily, you an' Larry's too little to train, so you just look at the rest, an' do 's they do, an' the Lord havemercy on ye an' help ye to act decent! Now, is there anything moreye'd like to practice?" "If yer tell me one more thing I can't set up an' eat, " said Peter, gloomily; "I'm so cram full o' manners now I'm ready ter bust 'thout nodinner at all. " "Me too, " chimed in Cornelius. "Well, I'm sorry for yer both, " rejoined Mrs. Ruggles, sarcastically;"if the 'mount o' manners yer've got on hand now, troubles ye, you'redreadful easy hurt! Now, Sarah Maud, after dinner, about once in sooften, you must say, 'I guess we'd better be goin';' an' if they say, 'Oh, no, set a while longer, ' yer can stay; but if they don't saynothin' you've got ter get up an' go. Can you remember?" "ABOUT ONCE IN SO OFTEN!" Could any words in the language be fraughtwith more terrible and wearing uncertainty? "Well, " answered Sarah Maud, mournfully, "seems as if this whole dinnerparty set right square on top o' me! Maybe I could manage my ownmanners, but ter manage nine mannerses is worse 'n staying to home!" "Oh, don't fret, " said her mother, good naturedly, "I guess you'll gitalong. I wouldn't mind if folks would only say, 'Oh, childern will bechildern;' but they won't. They'll say, 'Land o' Goodness, who fetchedthem childern up?' Now it's quarter past five; you can go, an'whatever yer do, don't forget your mother was a McGrill!" VI. "WHEN THE PIE WAS OPENED, THE BIRDS BEGAN TO SING!" The children went out the back door quietly, and were presently lost tosight, Sarah Maud slipping and stumbling along absent-mindedly as sherecited, under her breath, "It--was--such--a--pleasant--evenin'--an--sech--a--short--walk--we--thought--we'd--leave--our--hats--to--home. " Peter rang the door bell, and presently a servant admitted them, and, whispering something in Sarah's ear, drew her downstairs into thekitchen. The other Ruggleses stood in horror-stricken groups as thedoor closed behind their commanding officer; but there was no time forreflection, for a voice from above was heard, saying, "Come right upstairs, please!" "Theirs not to make reply, Theirs not to reason why, Theirs but to do or die. " Accordingly, they walked upstairs, and Elfrida, the nurse, ushered theminto a room more splendid than anything they had ever seen. But, ohwoe! where was Sarah Maud! and was it Fate that Mrs. Bird should say, at once, "Did you lay your hats in the hall?" Peter felt himselfelected by circumstance the head of the family, and, casting oneimploring look at tongue-tied Susan, standing next him, said huskily, "It was so very pleasant--that--that" "That we hadn't good hats enoughto go round, " put in little Susan, bravely, to help him out, and thenfroze with horror that the ill-fated words had slipped off her tongue. However, Mrs. Bird said, pleasantly, "Of course you wouldn't wear hatssuch a short distance--I forgot when I asked. Now, will you come rightin to Miss Carol's room, she is so anxious to see you?" Just then Sarah Maud came up the back-stairs, so radiant with joy fromher secret interview with the cook, that Peter could have pinched herwith a clear conscience, and Carol gave them a joyful welcome. "Butwhere is Baby Larry?" she cried, looking over the group with searchingeye. "Didn't he come?" "Larry! Larry!" Good Gracious, where was Larry? They were all surethat he had come in with them, for Susan remembered scolding him fortripping over the door-mat. Uncle Jack went into convulsions oflaughter. "Are you sure there were nine of you?" he asked, merrily. "I think so, sir, " said Peoria, timidly; "but, anyhow, there wasLarry;" and she showed signs of weeping. "Oh, well, cheer up!" cried Uncle Jack. "I guess he's not lost--onlymislaid. I'll go and find him before you can say Jack Robinson!" "I'll go, too, if you please, sir, " said Sarah Maud, "for it was myplace to mind him, an' if he's lost I can't relish my vittles!" The other Ruggleses stood rooted to the floor. Was this a dinnerparty, forsooth; and, if so, why were such things ever spoken of asfestive occasions? Sarah Maud went out through the hall, calling, "Larry! Larry!" andwithout any interval of suspense a thin voice piped up from below, "Here I be!" The truth was that Larry, being deserted by his naturalguardian, dropped behind the rest, and wriggled into the hat-tree towait for her, having no notion of walking unprotected into the jaws ofa dinner-party. Finding that she did not come, he tried to crawl fromhis refuge and call somebody, when--dark and dreadful ending to atragic day--he found that he was too much intertwined with umbrellasand canes to move a single step. He was afraid to yell! When I havesaid this of Larry Ruggles I have pictured a state of helpless terrorthat ought to wring tears from every eye; and the sound of Sarah Maud'sbeloved voice, some seconds later, was like a strain of angel music inhis ears. Uncle Jack dried his tears, carried him upstairs, and soonhad him in breathless fits of laughter, while Carol so made the otherRuggleses forget themselves that they were soon talking likeaccomplished diners-out. Carol's bed had been moved into the farthest corner of the room, andshe was lying on the outside, dressed in a wonderful soft whitewrapper. Her golden hair fell in soft fluffy curls over her whiteforehead and neck, her cheeks flushed delicately, her eyes beamed withjoy, and the children told their mother, afterwards, that she looked asbeautiful as the pictures of the Blessed Virgin. There was greatbustle behind a huge screen in another part of the room, and athalf-past five this was taken away, and the Christmas dinner-tablestood revealed. What a wonderful sight it was to the poor littleRuggles children, who ate their sometimes scanty meals on the kitchentable! It blazed with tall colored candles, it gleamed with glass andsilver, it blushed with flowers, it groaned with good things to eat; soit was not strange that the Ruggleses, forgetting that their mother wasa McGrill, shrieked in admiration of the fairy spectacle. But Larry'sbehavior was the most disgraceful, for he stood not upon the order ofhis going, but went at once for a high chair that pointed unmistakablyto him, climbed up like a squirrel, gave a comprehensive look at theturkey, clapped his hands in ecstacy, rested his fat arms on the table, and cried, with joy, "I beat the hull lot o' yer!" Carol laughed untilshe cried, giving orders, meanwhile, "Uncle Jack, please sit at thehead, Sarah Maud at the foot, and that will leave four on each side;Mama is going to help Elfrida, so that the children need not look aftereach other, but just have a good time. " A sprig of holly lay by each plate, and nothing would do but eachlittle Ruggles must leave his seat and have it pinned on by Carol, andas each course was served one of them pleaded to take something to her. There was hurrying to and fro, I can assure you, for it is quite adifficult matter to serve a Christmas dinner on the third floor of agreat city house; but if every dish had had to be carried up a ropeladder the servants would gladly have done so. There was turkey andchicken, with delicious gravy and stuffing, and there were half-a-dozenvegetables, with cranberry jelly, and celery, and pickles; and as forthe way these delicacies were served, the Ruggleses never forgot it aslong as they lived. Peter nudged Kitty, who sat next him, and said, "Look, will yer, ev'ryfeller's got his own partic'lar butter; I suppose that's to show yercan eat that much 'n no more. No, it ain't neither, for that pig of aPeory's just gittin' another helpin'!" "Yes, " whispered Kitty, "an'the napkins is marked with big red letters. I wonder if that's sonobody 'll nip 'em; an' oh, Peter, look at the pictures painted righton ter the dishes. Did yer ever!" "The plums is all took out o' my cramb'ry sarse, an' it's friz to astiff jell!" shouted Peoria, in wild excitement. "Hi--yah! I got a wish-bone!" sung Larry, regardless of Sarah Maud'sfrown; after which she asked to have his seat changed, giving as excusethat he gen'ally set beside her, an' would "feel strange;" the truereason being that she desired to kick him gently, under the table, whenever he passed what might be termed "the McGrill line. " "I declare to goodness, " murmured Susan, on the other side, "there's somuch to look at I can't scarcely eat nothin!" "Bet yer life I can!" said Peter, who had kept one servant busilyemployed ever since he sat down; for, luckily, no one was asked byUncle Jack whether he would have a second helping, but the dishes werequietly passed under their noses, and not a single Ruggles refusedanything that was offered him, even unto the seventh time. Then, whenCarol and Uncle Jack perceived that more turkey was a physicalimpossibility, the meats were taken off and the dessert was broughtin--a dessert that would have frightened a strong man after such adinner as had preceded it. Not so the Ruggleses--for a strong man isnothing to a small boy--and they kindled to the dessert as if theturkey had been a dream and the six vegetables an optical delusion. There was plum-pudding, mince-pie, and ice-cream, and there were nuts, and raisins, and oranges. Kitty chose ice-cream, explaining that sheknew it "by sight, " but hadn't never tasted none; but all the rest tookthe entire variety, without any regard to consequences. "My dear child, " whispered Uncle Jack, as he took Carol an orange, "there is no doubt about the necessity of this feast, but I do adviseyou after this to have them twice a year, or quarterly, perhaps, forthe way they eat is positively dangerous; I assure you I tremble forthat terrible Peoria. I'm going to run races with her after dinner. " "Never mind, " laughed Carol, "let them eat for once; it does my heartgood to see them, and they shall come oftener next year. " The feast being over, the Ruggleses lay back in their chairs languidly, and the table was cleared in a trice; then a door was opened into thenext room, and there, in a corner facing Carol's bed, which had beenwheeled as close as possible, stood the brilliantly lightedChristmas-tree, glittering with gilded walnuts and tiny silverballoons, and wreathed with snowy chains of pop-corn. The presents hadbeen bought mostly with Carol's story money, and were selected afterlong consultations with Mrs. Bird. Each girl had a blue knitted hood, and each boy a red crocheted comforter, all made by Mama, Carol andElfrida ("because if you buy everything, it doesn't show so much love, "said Carol). Then every girl had a pretty plaid dress of a differentcolor, and every boy a warm coat of the right size. Here the usefulpresents stopped, and they were quite enough; but Carol had pleaded togive them something "for fun. " "I know they need the clothes, " she hadsaid, when they were talking over the matter just after Thanksgiving, "but they don't care much for them, after all. Now, Papa, won't youPLEASE let me go without part of my presents this year, and give me themoney they would cost, to buy something to amuse them?" "You can have both, " said Mr. Bird, promptly; "is there any need of mylittle girl's going without her Christmas, I should like to know?Spend all the money you like. " "But that isn't the thing, " objected Carol, nestling close to herfather; "it wouldn't be mine. What is the use? Haven't I almosteverything already, and am I not the happiest girl in the world thisyear, with Uncle Jack and Donald at home? Now, Papa, you know verywell it is more blessed to give than to receive; then why won't you letme do it? You never look half as happy when you are getting yourpresents as when you are giving us ours. Now, Papa, submit, or I shallhave to be very firm and disagreeable with you!" "Very well, your Highness, I surrender. " "That's a dear Papa! Now, what were you going to give me? Confess!" "A bronze figure of Santa Claus; and in the little round belly, thatshakes, when he laughs, like a bowl full of jelly, is a wonderfulclock. Oh, you would never give it up if you could see it. " "Nonsense, " laughed Carol; "as I never have to get up to breakfast, norgo to bed, nor catch trains, I think my old clock will do very well!Now, Mama, what were you going to give me?" "Oh, I hadn't decided. A few more books, and a gold thimble, and asmelling-bottle, and a music-box. " "Poor Carol, " laughed the child, merrily, "she can afford to give upthese lovely things, for there will still be left Uncle Jack, andDonald, and Paul, and Hugh, and Uncle Rob, and Aunt Elsie, and a dozenother people. " So Carol had her way, as she generally did, but it was usually a goodway, which was fortunate, under the circumstances; and Sarah Maud had aset of Miss Alcott's books, and Peter a modest silver watch, Corneliusa tool-chest, Clement a dog-house for his "lame puppy, " Larry amagnificent Noah's ark, and each of the little girls a beautiful doll. You can well believe that everybody was very merry and very thankful. All the family, from Mr. Bird down to the cook, said they had neverseen so much happiness in the space of three hours; but it had to end, as all things do. The candles flickered and went out, the tree wasleft alone with its gilded ornaments, and Mrs. Bird sent the childrendown stairs at half-past eight, thinking that Carol looked tired. "Now, my darling, you have done quite enough for one day, " said Mrs. Bird, getting Carol into her little night-dress; "I am afraid you willfeel worse to-morrow, and that would be a sad ending to such a goodtime. " "Oh, wasn't it a lovely, lovely time, " sighed Carol. "From first tolast, everything was just right. I shall never forget Larry's facewhen he looked at the turkey; nor Peter's, when he saw his watch; northat sweet, sweet Kitty's smile when she kissed her dolly; nor thetears in poor, dull Sarah Maud's eyes when she thanked me for herbooks; nor--" "But we mustn't talk any longer about it to-night, " said Mrs. Bird, anxiously; "you are too tired, dear. " "I am not so very tired, Mama. I have felt well all day; not a bit ofpain anywhere. Perhaps this has done me good. " "Perhaps; I hope so. There was no noise or confusion; it was just amerry time. Now, may I close the door and leave you alone? I willsteal in softly the first thing in the morning, and see if you are allright; but I think you need to be quiet. " "Oh, I'm willing to stay alone; but I am not sleepy yet, and I am goingto hear the music by and by, you know. " "Yes, I have opened the window a little, and put the screen in front ofit, so that you will not feel the air. " "Can I have the shutters open; and won't you turn my bed a little, please? This morning I woke ever so early, and one bright beautifulstar shone in that eastern window. I never saw it before, and Ithought of the Star in the East, that guided the wise men to the placewhere Jesus was. Good night, Mama. Such a happy, happy day!" "Good night, my precious little Christmas Carol--mother's blessedChristmas child. " "Bend your head a minute, mother dear, " whispered Carol, calling hermother back. "Mama, dear, I do think that we have kept Christ'sbirthday this time just as He would like it. Don't you?" "I am sure of it, " said Mrs. Bird, softly. VII. THE BIRDLING FLIES AWAY. The Ruggleses had finished a last romp in the library with Paul andHugh, and Uncle Jack had taken them home, and stayed a while to chatwith Mrs. Ruggles, who opened the door for them, her face all aglowwith excitement and delight. When Kitty and Clem showed her theoranges and nuts they had kept for her, she astonished them by sayingthat at six o'clock Mrs. Bird had sent her in the finest dinner she hadever seen in her life; and not only that, but a piece of dress-goodsthat must have cost a dollar a yard if it cost a cent. As Uncle Jackwent down the little porch he looked back into the window for a lastglimpse of the family, as the children gathered about their mother, showing their beautiful presents again and again, and then upward to awindow in the great house yonder. "A little child shall lead them, " hethought; "well, if--if anything ever happens to Carol, I will take theRuggleses under my wing. " "Softly, Uncle Jack, " whispered the boys, as he walked into the librarya little while later; "We are listening to the music in the church. They sang 'Carol, brothers, carol, ' a while ago, and now we think theorganist is beginning to play 'My ain countree' for Carol. " "I hope she hears it, " said Mrs. Bird; "but they are very lateto-night, and I dare not speak to her lest she should be asleep. It isafter ten o'clock. " The boy-soprano, clad in white surplice, stood in the organ loft. The lamps shone full upon his crown of fair hair, and his pale face, with its serious blue eyes, looked paler than usual. Perhaps it wassomething in the tender thrill of the voice, or in the sweet words, butthere were tears in many eyes, both in the church and in the greathouse next door. "I am far frae my hame, I am weary aften whiles For the langed for hame-bringin An' my Faether's welcome smiles. An' I'll ne'er be fu' content, Until my e'en do see The gowden gates o' heaven In my ain countree. The earth is decked wi' flow'rs, Mony tinted, fresh an' gay, An' the birdies warble blythely, For my Faether made them sae; But these sights an' these soun's Will as naething be to me, When I hear the angels singin' In my ain countree. Like a bairn to its mither, A wee birdie to its nest, I fain would be gangin' noo Unto my Faether's breast; For He gathers in His arms Helpless, worthless lambs like me, An' carries them Himsel' To His ain countree. " There were tears in many eyes, but not in Carol's. The loving hearthad quietly ceased to beat and the "wee birdie" in the great house hadflown to its "home nest. " Carol had fallen asleep! But as to thesong, I think perhaps, I cannot say, she heard it after all! * * * * * So sad an ending to a happy day! Perhaps--to those who were left--andyet Carol's mother, even in the freshness of her grief, was glad thather darling had slipped away on the loveliest day of her life, out ofits glad content, into everlasting peace. She was glad that she had gone, as she had come, on wings of song, whenall the world was brimming over with joy; glad of every grateful smile, of every joyous burst of laughter, of every loving thought and word anddeed the dear, last day had brought. Sadness reigned, it is true, in the little house behind the garden; andone day poor Sarah Maud, with a courage born of despair, threw on herhood and shawl, walked straight to a certain house a mile away, dashedup the marble steps and into good Dr. Bartol's office, falling at hisfeet as she cried, "Oh, sir, it was me an' our childern that went toMiss Carol's last dinner party, an' if we made her worse we can't neverbe happy again!" Then the kind old gentleman took her rough hand inhis and told her to dry her tears, for neither she nor any of her flockhad hastened Carol's flight--indeed, he said that had it not been forthe strong hopes and wishes that filled her tired heart, she could nothave stayed long enough to keep that last merry Christmas with her dearones. And so the old years, fraught with memories, die, one after another, and the new years, bright with hopes, are born to take their places;but Carol lives again in every chime of Christmas bells that peal gladtidings and in every Christmas anthem sung by childish voices.