When the Yule Log Burns | Page 6

window, staring queerly
at the wind-beaten elms, he found himself repeating Madge Hildreth's
words. "Ruddy-cheeked and rugged and cheerful!"--indeed--this
unforgettable Christmas eve. Yes--she was right. Had he not often
heard his father say that the Christmas season epitomized all the rugged
sympathy and heartiness and health of the country year! To-night the
blazing Yule-log, his mother's face--how white her hair was growing,
thought Doctor Ralph with a sudden tightening of his throat--all of
these memories had strummed forgotten and finer chords. And darkly
foiling the homely brightness came the picture of rushing, overstrung,
bundle-laden city crowds, of shop-girls white and weary, of store-heaps
of cedar and holly sapped by electric glare. Rush and strain and
worry--yes--and a spirit of grudging! How unlike the Christmas peace
of this white, wind-world outside his window! So Doctor Ralph went to
bed with a sigh and a shrug--to listen while the sleety boughs tapping at
his windows roused ghostly phantoms of his boyhood. Falling asleep,
he dreamt that pretty Madge Hildreth had lightly waved a Christmas
wand of crimson above his head and dispelled his weariness and
discontent.

IV
Embers
And in the morning--there was the royal glitter of a Christmas
ice-storm to bring boyhood memories crowding again, boughs sheathed
in crystal armor and the old barn roof aglaze with ice. Yes--Ralph
thrilled--and there were the Christmas bunches of oats on the fences
and trees and the roof of the barn--how well he remembered! For the
old Doctor loved this Christmas custom too and never forgot the
Christmas birds. And to-day--why of course--there would be double
allowances of food for the cattle and horses, for old Toby the cat and
Rover the dog. Hadn't Ralph once performed this cherished Christmas
task himself!
But now, clamoring madly at his door was a romping swarm of
youngsters eager to show Uncle Ralph the Christmas tree which,
though he had helped to trim it the night before, he inspected in great
surprise. And here in his chair by another Yule-log he found Roger,
staring wide-eyed at the glittering tree with his thin little arms full of
Christmas gifts. Near him was Sister Madge whose black eyes, Ralph
saw with approval, were very soft and gentle, and beyond in the
coffee-fragrant dining-room Aunt Ellen and old Annie conspired
together over a mammoth breakfast table decked with holly.
"Oh, John, dear," Ralph heard his mother say as the Doctor came in,
"I've always said that Christmas is a mother's day. Wasn't the first
Christmas a mother's Christmas and the very first tree--a mother's
tree?" and then the Doctor's scandalized retort--"Now--now, now, see
here, Mother Ellen, it's a father's day, too, don't you forget that!"
And so on to the Christmas twilight through a day of romping
youngsters and blazing Yule-logs, of Christmas gifts and Christmas
greetings--of a haunting shame for Doctor Ralph at the memory of the
wild Christmas he had planned to spend with Griffin and Edwards.
With the coming of the broad shadows which lay among the stiff,
ice-fringed spruces like iris velvet, Doctor Ralph's nieces and nephews

went flying out to help old Asher feed the stock. By the quiet fire the
Doctor beckoned Ralph.
"Suppose, my boy," he said, "suppose you take a look at the little lad's
leg here. I've sometimes wondered what you would think of it."
Coloring a little at his father's deferential tone Ralph turned the
stocking back from the pitiful shrunken limb and bent over it, his dark
face keen and grave. And now with the surgeon uppermost, Roger
fancied Doctor Ralph's handsome eyes were nothing like so tired. Save
for the crackle of the fire and the tick of the great clock, there was
silence in the firelit room and presently Roger caught something in
Doctor Ralph's thoughtful face that made his heart leap wildly.
"An operation," said the young Doctor suddenly--and halted, meeting
his father's eyes significantly.
"You are sure!" insisted the old Doctor slowly. "In my day, it was
impossible--quite impossible."
"Times change," said the younger man. "I have performed such an
operation successfully myself. I feel confident, sir--" but Roger had
caught his hand now with a sob that echoed wildly through the quiet
room.
"Oh, Doctor Ralph," he blurted with blazing, agonized eyes, "you
don't--you can't mean, sir, that I'll walk and run like other
boys--and--and climb the Cedar King--" his voice broke in a passionate
fit of weeping.
"Yes," said Doctor Ralph, huskily, "I mean just that. Dad and I, little
man, we're going to do what we can."
By the window Sister Madge buried her face in her hands.
"Come, come, now Sister Madge," came the Doctor's kindly voice a
little later, "you've cried enough, lass. Roger is fretting about you and
Doctor Ralph here, he says he's going to take you for a little