Across the Years | Page 4

rose dominant.
"Frank Bertram, what on earth do you mean?" she demanded. "Who is
having all this?"
"Father and Mother," returned Frank, his lips twitching a little. "And
they've got old Uncle Tim and half a dozen others for guests."
"But, Frank, how can they be having all this?" faltered Ella. "Why,
Father's not so very far from eighty years old, and--Mabel, Mabel, my
dear!" she broke off in sudden reproof to her young niece, who had
come under her glance at that moment. "Those are presents for Grandpa
and Grandma. I wouldn't play with them."
Mabel hesitated, plainly rebellious. In each hand was a gray worsted
bed-slipper; atop of her yellow curls was a brown neckerchief, cap
fashion.
There were exclamations from two men, and Ned came forward
hurriedly. "Oh, I say, Ella," he remonstrated, "you didn't get those for
presents, did you?"
"But I did. Why not?" questioned Ella.
"Why, I got slippers, you see. I never can think of anything else.
Besides, they're always good, anyhow. But I should think you, a
woman, could think of something--"
"Never mind," interrupted Ella airily. "Mother's a dear, and she won't
care if she does get two pairs."
"But she won't want three pairs," groaned Frank; "and I got slippers
too!"
There was a moment of dismayed silence, then everybody laughed.
Ella was the first to speak. "It's too bad, of course, but never mind.
Mother'll see the joke of it just as we do. You know she never seems to

care what we give her. Old people don't have many wants, I fancy."
Frank stirred suddenly and walked the length of the room. Then he
wheeled about.
"Do you know," he said, a little unsteadily, "I believe that's a mistake?"
"A mistake? What's a mistake?"
"The notion that old people don't have any--wants. See here. They're
having a party down there--a party, and they must have got it up
themselves. Such being the case, of course they had what they wanted
for entertainment--and they aren't drinking tea or knitting socks.
They're dancing jigs and eating pink peppermints and ice cream! Their
eyes are like stars, and Mother's cheeks are like a girl's; and if you think
I'm going to offer those spry young things a brown neckerchief and a
pair of bed-slippers you're much mistaken--because I'm not!"
"But what--can--we do?" stammered Ella.
"We can buy something else here--to-night--in the village," declared
Frank; "and to-morrow morning we can go and give it to them."
"But--buy what?"
"I haven't the least idea," retorted Frank, with an airy wave of his hands.
"Maybe 'twill be a diamond tiara and a polo pony. Anyway, I know
what 'twon't be--'twon't be slippers or a neckerchief!"
* * * * *
It was later than usual that Christmas morning when Mr. and Mrs.
Samuel Bertram arose. If the old stomachs had rebelled a little at the
pink peppermints and ice cream, and if the old feet had charged toll for
their unaccustomed activity of the night before, neither Samuel nor
Lydia Ann would acknowledge it.
"Well, we had it--that tree!" chuckled Samuel, as he somewhat stiffly
thrust himself into his clothes.
"We did, Samuel,--we did," quavered Lydia Ann joyfully, "an' wa'n't it
nice? Mis' Hopkins said she never had such a good time in all her life
before."
"An' Uncle Tim an' Grandpa Gowin'--they was as spry as crickets, an'
they made old Pete tune up that 'Money Musk' three times 'fore they'd
quit"
"Yes; an'--my grief an' conscience, Samuel! 'tis late, ain't it?" broke off
Lydia Ann, anxiously peering at the clock. "Come, come, dear, you'll
have ter hurry 'bout gettin' that tree out of the front room 'fore the

children get here. I wouldn't have 'em know for the world how silly
we've been--not for the world!"
Samuel bridled, but his movements showed a perceptible increase of
speed.
"Well, I do' know," he chuckled.
"'T wa'n't anythin' so awful, after all. But, say," he called triumphantly
a moment later, as he stooped and picked up a small object from the
floor, "they will find out if you don't hide these 'ere pep'mints!"
The tree and the peppermints had scarcely disappeared from the "front
room" when Frank arrived.
"Oh, they're all coming in a minute," he laughed gayly in response to
the surprised questions that greeted him. "And we've brought the
children, too. You'll have a houseful, all right!"
A houseful it certainly proved to be, and a lively one, too. In the
kitchen "the girls" as usual reigned supreme, and bundled off the little
mother to "visit with the boys and the children" during the process of
dinner-getting, and after dinner they all gathered around the fireplace
for games and stories.
"And now," said Frank when darkness came and the lamps were lighted,
"I've got