“I wish you a merry Christmas, Georgie,” she said; “and I am very glad you have come to see me; for I have something so beautiful to show you! Please, mother, bring it to me.”
Her mother brought a tumbler containing a pretty little bunch of flowers, and held it close to Mary.
“Only look, Georgie!” continued the little girl, as she stretched out her small, white hand, and gently touched the flowers; “are they not beautiful? The kind doctor who comes to see me sometimes sent them to me for Christmas. They smell so sweet!”
“They are beautiful, Mary,” said Georgie. “I am very glad that you have got them; and Willie and I have brought you something for Christmas, too.”
As he spoke, he took the paper of grapes from Willie’s hands, and gave it to Mary’s mother, saying,—
“Will you please to put a bunch upon a plate, and give them to Mary?”
“O Mary! this is just what I have wanted to give you when your mouth is so hot and parched,” exclaimed her mother. “I am sure we thank you very much, Georgie.”
“Willie gave me the money,” replied Georgie. “He gave me a gold dollar to buy a book: but it cost only half a dollar; and so we could buy grapes for Mary.”
“They are very nice,” said the little girl, as her mother carefully removed the skin from one of the grapes, and placed it in her mouth. “I thank you, Georgie; and I thank Willie, too: I am glad he came to see me.”
“I will come again, Mary,” said Willie, going up to the bedside: “and I will bring you one of my boxes of guava jelly; for I had two in my Christmas stocking. Sick people can eat guava jelly; and you will like it, I am sure.”
Mary’s mother did not like to have the little girl talk long at one time: so Georgie and Willie bade her good-by, and went away; and very soon it was time for Willie to go home.
His mother was much pleased to hear about his visit; and she said, “Your gold dollar has made several people happy,—has it not Willie?”
“Yes, mother. It made grandpa happy to give it to me; and it made me happy to give it to Georgie; and then Georgie was happy to give the grapes to the little girl; and she and her mother were both happy to have them. I am glad that my gold dollar has given so many people pleasure, mother.”
“And I am glad also, Willie. It is good to love to share with others the blessings which the Lord gives to us.”
The Thanksgiving Party.
“Oh, mother, mother!” exclaimed Lucy Welford, as she bounded into her mother’s room, one bright, frosty morning in November, “Uncle John is in the parlor, and he has come to ask you if he may take Mary and me home with him to pass Thanksgiving. O, please, mother, let us go. Thanksgiving in the country is so delightful, much more so than in the city. Such fine sleigh-rides, and such grand slides on the pond.”
“And the delicious pumpkin pies, and the roast turkeys, and the bowls of sweet milk and cream,” continued Mary, who had followed her sister to hear their mother’s decision. “Oh, it will be so pleasant. And only think, mother, Uncle John is going to have a large party—a regular feast—he says; and Aunt Clara thinks that Lucy and I can assist her very much if you will be so kind as to let us go.”
“Very well,” replied their mother, smiling; “we will go and talk with Uncle John about it, and see if father thinks he can spare both of his girls for a few days.”
To the great joy of Mary and Lucy, father and mother at length gave their consent; and, warmly wrapped in hoods and cloaks, with a large carpet-bag to contain such articles as would be necessary for them during their stay, they sprang lightly into Uncle John’s comfortable sleigh, and with many a kind good-by to the dear ones at home, were soon riding swiftly away, leaving far behind the various sights and sounds of the busy city.
A pleasant ride of fifteen miles brought them to the old-fashioned farm house, where the sound of the merry bells soon called Aunt Clara to the door, and with a most affectionate welcome, she embraced her young nieces, and expressed her joy that their parents had consented to spare them to her for a short time.
The ride in the fresh air had given the girls fine rosy cheeks and excellent appetites, and they were quite ready to accept Aunt Clara’s invitation to take a luncheon of bread and milk, and some of her nice doughnuts.
“And now, dear aunt, do tell us all about the party,” exclaimed Lucy. “Will there be any young folks, or is it only for grown up people like you and Uncle John? We tried to make him tell us about it as we rode along; but he only laughed, and said we should find out when the day came.”
“There will be both young and old,” replied their aunt, smiling, “about fifty in all; so you see I shall be much in need of your assistance in entertaining so large a company.”
“We will do everything we can to help you,” said Mary, “and we have brought our new winter frocks to wear, and new ribbons for our hair; and mother said, if anything else was needed, we could send her word to-morrow, as Uncle John said he should be obliged to go into town.”
“Oh, your dress will do very well, I have no doubt,” replied her aunt. “Our friends are not very showy people, and will come in plain attire. But I must leave you and Lucy to entertain yourselves for a short time, as a part of my morning work is unfinished. I suppose you will not be at a loss for amusement.”
“Not at all,” answered both of the girls. “We will go to the barn, and find Uncle John, and see if our old pets among the sheep and the cows have forgotten us.”
The remainder of the day passed pleasantly away, and the girls were so much fatigued with the unusual exercise they had taken in running about the farm, that they were quite glad when bed-time came, and slept soundly until the bright rays of the morning sun were beaming in at their window.
“To-morrow will be the day for the party,” exclaimed Lucy, as she and her sister hastened to dress for breakfast, fearful that they had already kept their aunt waiting. “I expect to enjoy it so much.”
“So do I,” replied Mary. “I am very glad that there are young people coming. There are some sweet little girls in the neighborhood. I hope Aunt Clara has invited Mrs. Carlton’s family. They live in the great white house on the hill, and are very genteel, pleasant people.”
“No doubt they will be here,” returned Lucy, “and the Wilsons and Smiths, and, perhaps, Mr. Marion’s family. There must be many others coming whom we do not know, for aunt said there would be about fifty guests. O, I am sure it will be delightful!”
Breakfast over, Aunt Clara soon found abundance of work for her two young assistants. There were nutmegs to grate, eggs to beat, apples to pare, meat to mince, and various other employments, which the girls found very interesting. The tables were soon loaded with pies, cakes, warm bread, and every variety of eatables, while turkeys and chickens by the dozen were in a state of preparation, and the large pots over the fire were filled with the nice hams which Uncle John had provided for the occasion. Everything showed that there was to be a bountiful feast, and our young friends danced for joy, as they thought of the pleasure in store for them.
The much wished for day came at length, and a bright and beautiful day it was. The guests were expected to assemble about noon, and by eleven o’clock, Lucy and Mary, having assisted their aunt in preparing the long table in the dining-room, hastened to their own apartment to dress, that they might be in readiness to receive them.
The great double sleigh with the pretty gray ponies was already harnessed, for some of the visitors, as Uncle John observed, lived at quite a distance from the farm, and he had promised to send for them at the proper time.
“Very kind in Uncle John,” observed Mary