Little Prudys Sister Susy | Page 6

was hardly polite, it is true; but people are sometimes surprised
out of their good manners on Christmas evenings, and must be forgiven
for it, as such a good time happens but once a year.
Percy broke in with an old song, and went through with a whole stanza
of it, although no one listened to a word:--
"Good luck unto old Christmas, And long life let us sing, For he doeth
more good unto the poor Than many a crownéd king."

"My beautiful books!" cried aunt Madge; "Russia morocco."
"My writing-desk,--has any one looked at it?" said Mrs. Parlin;
"rose-wood, inlaid with brass."
"My skates!" broke in Susy, at the top of her voice.
"Hush!" screamed cousin Percy; "won't anybody please notice my
drum? If you won't look, then look out for a drum in each ear!"
And as nobody would look or pay the slightest attention, they all had to
hear "Dixie" pounded out in true martial style, till they held on to their
ears.
"Rattlety bang!" went the drum. "Tweet, tweet," whistled the little
musical instruments which the children were blowing.
"Have pity on us!" cried aunt Madge; "I am bewildered; my head is
floating like a Chinese garden."
"Order!" shouted Mr. Parlin, laughing.
"O, yes, sir," said Percy, seizing Susy and whirling her round.
"Children, why don't you try to preserve order? My nerves are strung
up like violin-strings! I've got a pound of headache to every ounce of
brains. Susy Parlin, do try to keep still!"
"Thee needn't pretend it is all Susan," said grandma Read, smiling.
"Thee and little Prudence are the noisiest of the whole!"
In fact, they raised such a din, that after a while poor grandma Read
smoothed the Quaker cap over her smiling face, and stole off into her
own chamber, where she could "settle down into quietness." Much
noise always confused grandma Read.
But in a very few moments, when the excitement began to die out,
there was a season of overwhelming gratitude. Everybody had to thank
everybody else; and Mr. Parlin, who had a beautiful dressing-gown to
be grateful for, nevertheless found time to tell Susy, over and over

again, how delighted he was with her book-mark, made, by her own
fingers, of three wide strips of velvet ribbon; on the ends of which were
fastened a cross, a star, and an anchor, of card-board.
"Papa, one ribbon is to keep your place in the Old Testament," said
Susy; "one is to stay in the middle, at the births and marriages; and the
other one is for our chapter in the New Testament, you know."
"I think my lamp-mat is very pretty," said aunt Madge, kissing Susy;
"every bit as pretty as if Prudy hadn't 'been and told.'"
Prudy had bought a shawl-pin for her mother, a fierce little wooden
soldier for aunt Madge, and something for everybody else but Susy.
Not that she forgot Susy. O, no! but one's money does not always hold
out, even at Christmas time.
"Why," said Mr. Parlin, "what is this sticking fast to the sole of my new
slipper? Molasses candy, I do believe."
"Yes sir; that's for Susy," cried Prudy, suddenly remembering how she
had tucked it in at the last moment, when she could not stop to find any
wrapping-paper. "It isn't so big as it was, but it's the biggest piece I had
in this world. I saved it last night. Susy likes 'lasses candy, and I
couldn't think of nothin' else."
It was a wonder that Prudy's candy had not spoiled some of the nice
presents.
Susy received several pretty things; and though she did not talk quite so
much as Prudy, she was just as happy. For one thing, she had what she
had not dreamed was possible for a little girl--a bottle of otto of rose;
"just like a young lady."
This was a real delight to Susy: but Prudy, sniffing at it, said, coolly,
"O, ho! it smells 's if it didn't cost more'n a cent! 'Tisn't half so sweet as
pep'mint!"
Before Dotty could be put to bed, she had contrived to break several

toys, all of which happened to be Susy's--a sugar temple, a glass pitcher,
and a small vase.
This was an evening long to be remembered; but the most remarkable
event of all was to come.
"Susy, my daughter," said Mr. Parlin, "have you been wondering why
you don't see a present from me?"
Susy blushed. She had certainly expected something handsome this
year from her father.
"I haven't forgotten you, my dear; but the present I have chosen
wouldn't sit very well on the shoulders of such a little fellow as Santa
Claus."
Percy laughed. "Wouldn't it have been a load, uncle?"
"Hush!" whispered aunt Madge; "she isn't to know till morning."