Holidays at the Grange | Page 6

with regard to Kriss-Kinkle has
come to such a pass, that a little girl of three years old, who had been
kept, as her relations thought, in all the verdure becoming to her tender
years, upon her aunt telling her that she ought not to expect many gifts
that season, as it was such stormy weather that poor Kriss-Kinkle could
scarcely venture out, replied: "But, Aunty! could he not take grandma's
carriage--he would not get wet then!"
If the merry old soul really came down the chimney at the Grange, he
shewed great discernment in the gifts he bestowed, for each found in
the stocking some article that had been ardently desired. Ellen, who
was deeply interested in the study of Italian, found a beautiful copy of
Dante's "Divina Commedia;" Mary, who possessed a fine talent for
drawing, and frequently sketched from nature, discovered that a
complete set of artist's colors and brushes had fallen to her lot; George,
who was devoted to skating, found a pair of skates, "real beauties," as
he said, appended to his stocking; all plainly saw that their individual
tastes and peculiarities had been consulted in a very gratifying manner.
Of course they did not neglect to express their pleasure and gratitude to
their kind friends, requesting them to inform that very worthy old
gentleman, Mr. Kriss-Kinkle, of their delight at his selection. Nor were
Uncle John and Aunt Lucy forgotten: their nephews and nieces had all
provided some little gifts, as expressions of love. Mrs. Wyndham
declared that she was quite set up in crochet bags and purses, for a year
to come; and tastefully worked book-markers, with appropriate
sentiments, were very plentiful. Tom Green made himself exceedingly
agreeable to the whole party, by presenting to each some pretty little
box, thimble-case, or other ingenious trifle, which he had made at his
leisure with the aid of his turning-lathe; whereupon Charlie Bolton
assumed an irresistibly ludicrous air of dejection, and asserted that he
felt quite crushed by Tom's superior gallantry. "Really, a fellow is not

much thought of now-a-days, unless he can do something in the pretty
line. I must get a turning-lathe at once, or else learn to carve brooches
out of marbles, and rings out of peach-stones, and baskets out of cherry
and apricot stones. If I can't get up that much artistic talent, I might as
well resign myself to complete insignificance all my life." Cornelia
Wyndham highly approved of his intentions, and told him that when he
had come to perfection in the fancy business, she hoped he would
remember her devoted and perfectly disinterested friendship; her
cousinly affection was of the warmest and truest quality, especially
when there were any hopes of cherry-stone baskets.
Full of enjoyment as they were, none were too intent upon fun and
frolic to neglect accompanying their kind relatives to the pretty little
country church, for it was their uncle's habit to begin the day with
religious exercises: he said it seemed to him ungrateful to spend it in
unbroken jollity, and to forget entirely the original motive of its
institution. It was a very pleasant custom, and very conducive to mutual
attachment, for friends and relations to give and to receive presents: but
this should be subordinate to the remembrance of God's Great Gift to
the children of men, which was celebrated on that happy day. So the
young people passed a unanimous vote that church-going was as
regular a part of keeping Christmas as presents or mince-pie, and gladly
set off to walk through the frosty air to the ivy-covered church, shaded
by ancient trees. It was situated on a hill, and was approached by
numerous paths running across the fields; and as Ellen gazed upon its
spire, standing in relief against the deep blue sky, she thought of that
beautiful line of Wordsworth,
"Pointing its taper finger up to heaven!"
The chime of bells, too, joyfully pealing out, appeared to be the voice
of the church calling upon all who heard it, to return thanks to Him
who blesses the families of men; it seemed to say, "Both young men
and maidens, old men and children, let them praise the name of the
Lord." What a mistake it is, to think of religion only as a refuge from
sorrow, and a solace for the disappointments of the world! It is that,
truly, but it is also the sanctifier of joy: the happy young heart should

be laid upon God's altar, as well as the stricken spirit, and the eye
moistened with tears. That the services of the church had not a
depressing effect upon the minds of any, was very evident from the
heart-felt greetings and warm shakes of the hand which were
exchanged by all, as they left the house of prayer.