On Christmas Day in the Morning | Page 2

were a father and mother somewhere in the world for him
to go home to.
Guy wrote the same sort of thing, with more or less detail, to Edson and
Oliver, his married elder brothers; to Ralph, his unmarried brother; and
to Carolyn--Mrs. Charles Wetmore, his other--and elder--married sister.
He received varied and more or less sympathetic responses, to the
effect that with so many little children, and such snowdrifts as always
blocked the roads leading toward North Estabrook, it really was not
strange--and of course somebody would go next year. But they had all
sent the nicest gifts they could find. Didn't Guy think mother liked
those beautiful Russian sables Ralph sent her? And wasn't father
pleased with his gold-headed cane from Oliver? Surely with such
presents pouring in from all the children, Father and Mother Fernald
couldn't feel so awfully neglected.
"Gold-headed cane be hanged!" Guy exploded when he read this last
sentence from the letter of Marian, Oliver's wife. "I'll bet she put him

up to it. If anybody dares give me a gold-headed cane before I'm
ninety-five I'll thrash him with it on the spot. He wasn't using it,
either--bless him. He had his old hickory stick, and he wouldn't have
had that if that abominable rheumatism hadn't gripped him so hard. He
isn't old enough to use a cane, by jolly, and Ol ought to know it, if
Marian doesn't. I'm glad I sent him that typewriter. He liked that, I
know he did, and it'll amuse him, too--not make him think he's ready to
die!"
Guy was not the fellow to forget anything which had taken hold of him
as that pathetic Christmas home-coming had done. When the year had
nearly rolled around, the first of December saw him at work getting his
plans in train. He began with his eldest brother, Oliver, because he
considered Mrs. Oliver the hardest proposition he had to tackle in the
carrying out of his idea.
"You see," he expounded patiently, as they sat and stared at him, "it
isn't that they aren't always awfully glad to see the whole outfit,
children and all, but it just struck me it would do 'em a lot of good to
revive old times. I thought if we could make it just as much as possible
like one of the old Christmases before anybody got married--hang up
the stockings and all, you know--it would give them a mighty jolly
surprise. I plan to have us all creep in in the night and go to bed in our
old rooms. And then in the morning--See?"
Mrs. Oliver looked at him. An eager flush lit his still boyish face--Guy
was twenty-eight--and his blue eyes were very bright. His lithe,
muscular figure bent toward her pleadingly; all his arguments were
aimed at her. Oliver sat back in his impassive way and watched them
both. It could not be denied that it was Marian's decisions which
usually ruled in matters of this sort.
"It seems to me a very strange plan," was Mrs. Oliver's comment, when
Guy had laid the whole thing before her in the most tactful manner he
could command. She spoke rather coldly. "It is not usual to think that
families should be broken up like this on Christmas Day, of all days in
the year. Four families, with somebody gone--a mother or a father--just
to please two elderly people who expect nothing of the sort, and who

understand just why we can't all get home at once. Don't you think you
are really asking a good deal?"
Guy kept his temper, though it was hard work. "It doesn't seem to me I
am," he answered quite gently. "It's only for once. I really don't think
father and mother would care much what sort of presents we brought
them, if we only came ourselves. Of course, I know I'm asking a
sacrifice of each family, and it may seem almost an insult not to invite
the children and all, yet--perhaps next year we'll try a gathering of all
the clans. But just for this year--honestly--I do awfully wish you'd give
me my way. If you'd seen those two last Christmas--"
He broke off, glancing appealingly at Oliver himself. To his surprise,
that gentleman shifted his pipe to the corner of his mouth and put a few
pertinent questions to his younger brother. Had he thought it all out?
What time should they arrive there? How early on the day after
Christmas could they get away? Was he positive they could all crowd
into the house without rousing and alarming the pair?
"Sure thing," Guy declared, quickly. "Marietta--well, you know I've
had the soft side of her old heart ever since I was born, somehow. I
talked it all over with her last year, and