Grandfathers Love Pie | Page 7

give him a hint as to what he might find in his sock on the eventful morning. Uncle Dick had been instructed to bring home all the Santa Claus posters that might be found in the newspaper office or bookshop, and there was already quite a stack of colored pictures on hand, showing Santa Claus in every stage of his wonderful yearly trip round the earth. Both Alices had spent some time selecting the little white Santa and sleigh for the top of the pie. The reindeer were hitched, tandem style, to the sleigh, harnessed and reined with the gayest red ribbon.
The packages and letters began to come, in considerable numbers, during the next few days, and several more "plums" were given into Alice's care, not to mention the dates, raisins, currants, and the like, for every check or coin was classified with the fruit, for the filling of the pie. It began to look as if that pie was to be a very rich one after all.
One morning, several days before Christmas, Mrs. Gordon came out of the sick-chamber, to the breakfast table, with a beaming face, saying:
"Captain Gordon spent the best night he has had in months, and he feels so bright and well that he wants to be brought into the library and rest awhile on the couch there."
What joy this announcement brought to them all! The rolling chair was drawn forth, and little Alsie led the way from one room to another with feet that fairly danced.
No ill effects followed the experiment, and it was repeated the next day with even greater success. It really appeared that some of the most persistent features of Captain Gordon's illness were yielding, perhaps, to the treatment--at any rate, the beloved invalid was better, and the leaden weight of apprehension, which had so burdened the hearts of each one of them, was disappearing and a wonderful joy was taking its place.
A white-winged, invisible guest had arrived, before time, to spend the Christmastide with them. It was the Angel of Hope, sent by the pitying hand of the Father in Heaven, and with it came peace, joy, love, and merriment.
What a host of Christmas cards came in, on the morning mail, just preceding Christmas Day. Little Alsie was almost wild to begin work on the pie. After breakfast, Aunt Alice said calmly, "Alsie, come with me, for I have an important errand, and would like to have company."
"O, Auntee, how can you be so composed when there's such a big pile of bundles in your bedroom closet, and have you seen the lovely palm sent to grandfather by the members of his literary club? It's a beauty, and so big that it looks almost like a small tree!"
They wended their way to Alice's room, and locked the door. Going to the closet, Alice brought forth the largest round hat-box that any of them had ever seen. It must have been two feet or more in diameter, but it was only seven or eight inches high.
The Christmas paper was next brought out, and what a wonderful variety there was--Santa Claus, in all phases of his yearly trip, was pictured on some rolls, while festoons of holly and ribbon were outlined against a background of white on others.
After considerable discussion and comparing of effects, it was finally decided that the outside crust of the pie should be of white paper, decorated in holly and ribbon, so the needles and pastepot were both used in preparing the lower portion of the box. The top was treated in an entirely different fashion. It was covered over with the whitest of white cotton batting, and the glistening little sleigh was securely fastened to the center of the top. Fragments of the cotton fell over the edges, and when Alice sprinkled over this, the "diamond dust," it looked as if real icicles were dropping from a bank of glistening snow.
"Auntee, it's the prettiest thing I've ever seen!" exclaimed Alsie enthusiastically, after the lining had been neatly pasted in.
Then began the work of fixing up the packages to fill the pie. Aunt Bettie's contribution was unique--a beaten-biscuit gentleman, some twelve inches tall, who was certainly most "fearfully and wonderfully" made. The eyes, which had been so carefully put in with a fork, were a little too close together, and the dough nose, which had been so anxiously applied, had risen unduly in the baking, to the great detriment of the biscuit gentleman's appearance. The mouth was all right, however--big and smiling. His legs looked very much like he had a bad case of locomotor ataxia, but the buttons on his coat were quite regular and his arms hung at his sides like ramrods.
After careful inspection which occasioned considerable laughter, the beaten-biscuit man was rolled up in tissue paper