The Birds Christmas Carol | Page 9

to thank him." "Is Peter the oldest?" "No; Sarah Maud is the oldest--she helps do the washing; and Peter is the next. He is a dressmaker's boy." "And which is the pretty little red-haired girl?" "That's Kitty." "And the fat youngster?" "Baby Larry." "And that freckled one?" "Now, don't laugh--that's Peoria!"
"Carol, you are joking." "No, really, Uncle dear. She was born in Peoria; that's all." "And is the next boy Oshkosh?" "No," laughed Carol, "the others are Susan, and Clement, and Eily, and Cornelius." "How did you ever learn all their names?" "Well, I have what I call a 'window-school.' It is too cold now; but in warm weather I am wheeled out on my little balcony, and the Ruggleses climb up and walk along our garden fence, and sit down on the roof of our carriage-house. That brings them quite near, and I read to them and tell them stories; On Thanksgiving Day they came up for a few minutes, it was quite warm at eleven o'clock, and we told each other what we had to be thankful for; but they gave such queer answers that Papa had to run away for fear of laughing; and I couldn't understand them very well. Susan was thankful for 'TRUNKS,' of all things in the world; Cornelius, for 'horse cars;' Kitty, for 'pork steak;' while Clem, who is very quiet, brightened up when I came to him, and said he was thankful for 'HIS LAME PUPPY.' Wasn't that pretty?" "It might teach some of us a lesson, mightn't it, little girl?"
"That's what Mama said. Now I'm going to give this whole Christmas to the Ruggleses; and, Uncle Jack, I earned part of the money myself." "You, my bird; how?" "Well, you see, it could not be my own, own Christmas if Papa gave me all the money, and I thought to really keep Christ's birthday I ought to do something of my very own; and so I talked with Mama. Of course she thought of something lovely; she always does; Mama's head is just brimming over with lovely thoughts, and all I have to do is ask, and out pops the very one I want. This thought was, to let her write down, just as I told her, a description of how a little girl lived in her own room three years, and what she did to amuse herself; and we sent it to a magazine and got twenty-five dollars for it. Just think!" "Well, well," cried Uncle Jack, "my little girl a real author! And what are you going to do with this wonderful 'own' money of yours?" "I shall give the nine Ruggleses a grand Christmas dinner here in this very room--that will be Papa's contribution, and afterwards a beautiful Christmas tree, fairly blooming with presents--that will be my part; for I have another way of adding to my twenty-five dollars, so that I can buy everything I like. I should like it very much if you would sit at the head of the table, Uncle Jack, for nobody could ever be frightened of you, you dearest, dearest, dearest thing that ever was! Mama is going to help us, but Papa and the boys are going to eat together down stairs for fear of making the little Ruggleses shy; and after we've had a merry time with the tree we can open my window and all listen together to the music at the evening church-service, if it comes before the children go. I have written a letter to the organist, and asked him if I might have the two songs I like best. Will you see if it is all right?"
"BIRDS NEST, Dec. 21st, 188-. DEAR MR. WILKIE,-- I am the little sick girl who lives next door to the church, and, as I seldom go out, the music on practice days and Sundays is one of my greatest pleasures. I want to know if you can let the boys sing 'Carol, brothers, carol,' on Christmas night, and if the one who sings 'My ain countree' so beautifully may please sing that too. I think it is the loveliest song in the world, but it always makes me cry; doesn't it you? If it isn't too much trouble, I hope they can sing them both quite early, as after ten o'clock I may be asleep. --Yours respectfully, CAROL BIRD. P.S.--The reason I like 'Carol, brothers, carol,' is because the choir-boys sang it eleven years ago, the morning I was born, and put it into Mama's head to call me Carol. She didn't remember then that my other name would be Bird, because she was half asleep, and couldn't think of but one thing at a time. Donald says if I had been born on the Fourth of July they would