The Birds Christmas Carol | Page 8

to Uncle Jack, and he'll have none of it without her. She is
better than all the turkeys and puddings and apples and spare-ribs and
wreaths and garlands and mistletoe and stockings and chimneys and
sleigh-bells in Christendom. She is the very sweetest Christmas Carol
that was ever written, said, sung or chanted, and I am coming, as fast as
ships and railway trains can carry me, to tell her so."
Carol's joy knew no bounds. Mr. and Mrs. Bird laughed like children
and kissed each other for sheer delight, and when the boys heard it they
simply whooped like wild Indians, until the Ruggles family, whose
back yard joined their garden, gathered at the door and wondered what

was "up" in the big house.
IV. "BIRDS OF A FEATHER FLOCK TOGETHER."
Uncle Jack did really come on the twentieth. He was not detained by
business, nor did he get left behind nor snowed up, as frequently
happens in stories, and in real life too, I am afraid. The snow-storm
came also; and the turkey nearly died a natural and premature death
from over-eating. Donald came, too; Donald, with a line of down upon
his upper lip, and Greek and Latin on his tongue, and stores of
knowledge in his handsome head, and stories--bless me, you couldn't
turn over a chip without reminding Donald of something that happened
"at College."
One or the other was always at Carol's bedside, for they fancied her
paler than she used to be, and they could not bear her out of sight. It
was Uncle lack, though, who sat beside her in the winter twilights. The
room was quiet, and almost dark, save for the snow-light outside, and
the flickering flame of the fire, that danced over the "Sleeping
Beauty's" face, and touched the Fair One's golden locks with ruddier
glory. Carol's hand (all too thin and white these latter days) lay close
clasped in Uncle Jack's, and they talked together quietly of many, many
things. "I want to tell you all about my plans for Christmas this year,
Uncle Jack," said Carol, on the first evening of his visit, "because it
will be the loveliest one I ever had. The boys laugh at me for caring so
much about it; but it isn't altogether because it is Christmas nor because
it is my birthday; but long, long ago, when I first began to be ill, I used
to think, the first thing when I waked on Christmas morning, 'To-day is
Christ's birthday--AND MINE!' I did not put the words close together,
because that made it seem too bold but I first thought, 'Christ's
birthday,' and then, in a minute, softly to myself--AND MINE!'
'Christ's birthday--AND MINE!' And so I do not quite feel about
Christmas as other girls do. Mama says she supposes that ever so many
other children have been born on that day. I often wonder where they
are, Uncle Jack, and whether it is a dear thought to them, too, or
whether I am so much in bed, and so often alone, that it means more to
me. Oh, I do hope that none of them are poor, or cold, or hungry; and I

wish, I wish they were all as happy as I, because they are my little
brothers and sisters. Now, Uncle Jack, dear, I am going to try and make
somebody happy every single Christmas that I live, and this year it is to
be the 'Ruggleses in the rear.'" "That large and interesting brood of
children in the little house at the end of the back garden?" "Yes; isn't it
nice to see so many together? We ought to call them the Ruggles
children, of course; but Donald began talking of them as the 'Ruggleses
in the rear,' and Papa and Mama took it up, and now we cannot seem to
help it. The house was built for Mr. Carter's coachman, but Mr. Carter
lives in Europe, and the gentleman who rents his place doesn't care
what happens to it, and so this poor Irish family came to live there.
When they first moved in, I used to sit in my window and watch them
play in their backyard; they are so strong, and jolly, and good-natured;
and then, one day, I had a terrible headache, and Donald asked them if
they would please not scream quite so loud, and they explained that
they were having a game of circus, but that they would change and play
'Deaf and Dumb School' all the afternoon."
"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Uncle Jack, "what an obliging family, to be
sure." "Yes, we all thought it very funny, and I smiled at them from the
window when I was well enough to be up again. Now, Sarah Maud
comes to her door