The Little Mixer | Page 5

holy water from her shelf. As to the place, there were six boys at the Hallorans' always in the way; Mrs. Lawrence had guests; obviously the baptismal rite would have to be performed at Hannah's home. After lunch the children assembled in the sun parlor of the Josephs' home, in full view of Mrs. Joseph who sat embroidering in the library, the French door closed between them, so that she did not hear.
Nellie had secured the bottle of holy water, and, arrayed in her brother Joe's long, black rain-coat, a towel about her neck for a stole, acted as priest. Virginia, not to be left out of such an important affair, consented to be godmother. In lieu of a prayer manual, Nellie used one of Hannah's story books. She chose a verse, which, because she knew it by heart, she could read exceptionally well:
"Little boy blue, come blow your horn, The sheep are in the meadow, And the cows are in the corn."
Then she poured a little of the holy water on Hannah's forehead (wet hair might occasion unanswerable questions) and baptized her "Hannah Agnes Ignatius Joseph."
Called upon for a response, the godmother recited very impressively the Scientific Statement of Being as found in the Christian Science text-book, and Hannah was pronounced a Gentile and a Catholic.
One thing more remained to be done. Hannah ran to her mother, cheeks aglow. "Mama, may I trade my striped ball to Nellie for some beads?"
"Why of course, darling, if you wish."
The exchange was made, and some time was spent in mastering the use of the rosary. All three of the children knew the "Our Father," though there was some difference of opinion as to "debts" and "trespasses" which is apt to hold in all mixed congregations. The "Hail Mary" proved a bit difficult for Hannah, and she finally abandoned it. "I'll say, 'Hear, oh Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is One,'" she said. "I already know that, and a prayer is a prayer, isn't it?"
Nellie refilled the holy-water bottle from the kitchen hydrant, and hurried home to replace it before her grandmother should awaken. Hannah spent the next hour lying flat on her stomach printing letters, appealing to Virginia from time to time for aid as to the spelling, Virginia being a very superior speller.
Mrs. Joseph was busy with callers when Virginia went home, and Hannah was left to her own devices. Suddenly she thought of one stone that had been left unturned: there was her friend Mr. Jackson to whom the Lawrences always appealed in time of stress. She knew the formula, she knew his number, for on the list by the Lawrences' telephone, his name, like Abou-ben-Adhem's, led all the rest. "Main 1234," it was as easy as counting. She slipped into the telephone closet and closed the door.
There was no trouble with Hannah that night. She went to bed early, and didn't care to have any stories told--she could go to sleep by herself.
"Quite a change of heart, eh?" Eli commented to Rose, as they sat by the living-room fire after telling their little girl good night.
"She has been like that all day, playing as happily as you please," Rose responded. "I suppose she got it all out of her system in last night's scene."
Eli drummed abstractedly on the arm of his chair: "I don't feel quite right about it, even so," he said.
"Maybe you will think me inconsistent," she confessed, flushing, "but Hannah was so indifferent about the presents sent her for Chanuca, I only showed her two. I've saved the others to give her Christmas Day, so she will have something of her own to show when the other children bring theirs over."
Eli didn't seem any too pleased. "Poor little mite," he murmured.
* * * * *
"His-st! Missis Joseph!"
It was Bridget, the Hallorans' old family servant, calling softly from the hall.
"I'll be after takin' the prisints ye've stored away for us. I'll lave 'em on the back porch 'n' carry 'em over when the childer are all asleep. Nellie's in bed like a little angel, bless 'er heart, but them divilish b'ys do be a-snoopin' into ivery crack 'n' corner!"
Mrs. Joseph unlocked a closet under the stairs, and loaded Bridget's arm's with heavy and bulky parcels.
"Shure, an' 'tis a sad Chris'mus we'll be havin', savin' the childer. Mr. Timmy, him that's old Missis Halloran's youngest, but old enough to know better, he ups an' runs away to-day an' marries a Protestant gir-rl. An' if ye'll open y'r windy the bit av a crack, ye'll hear the poor old lady this minit, wailin' like a banshee."
"But Mr. Timothy is such a nice young man, he must have married a lovely girl, Bridget," said Rose.
"Shure, an' that may be, but she is a Protestant, Missis Joseph. She runs