CHAPTER II--The Real Christmas Present

  Christmas morning, and oh, how early every one woke and jumped out ofbed! Sammy was the first to look out of the window, and his shouts ofjoy brought everybody pell-mell to look out too.

  "Snow," he called, "more snow! Hurry up and get dressed."

  Sure enough the ground was covered with a fresh fall of snow, and atthat moment up came the red winter sun making a beautiful sparklingChristmas world for the children to look upon.

  Breakfast over, out they all trooped, and up went a snowman only to fallunder a hail of snowballs. Mary Ellen and Polly pulled Lydia and thetwins about on the sled, refreshing themselves between-times with wildtoboggans down the hill. It seemed only a moment before Miss Martincalled them in to make ready for church.

  Two by two they walked along, past houses with wreaths of holly in thewindows, sometimes catching glimpses between curtains of Christmas Treeslike their own.

  In the church it was green and sweet-smelling. From their seats in thebalcony the children looked up at a big red star blazing high among thepine and balsam boughs. They sat quietly, the older ones now and thenunderstanding a little of what was said, while between-times theycounted the organ-pipes or swung their feet softly, the unlucky Sammyoccasionally coming up against the pew with a thump. Every one--MissMartin, too--was glad when their turn came to sing, and they couldstretch stiff little legs and open their mouths wide. They sang--

  "Away in a manger, No crib for a bed, The little Lord Jesus Lay down His sweet head. The stars in the sky Looked down where He lay, The little Lord Jesus Asleep on the hay.

  "The cattle are lowing, The dear baby wakes. The little Lord Jesus No crying He makes. I love Thee, Lord Jesus, Look down from the sky, And stay by my cradle To watch lullaby."

  Lydia had a clear little voice and she sang out with a will, and all thewhile she sang she was thinking of Santa Claus's promise.

  After church came dinner--turkey and plum pudding--and then the childrensettled down around the Tree to play with their new toys. Lydia wasrocking Lucy Locket to sleep when Nurse Norrie came into the room.

  "Friend Morris has sent for you, Lydia," said she. "Alexander is waitingoutside."

  Nurse Norrie looked carefully at Lydia's face and hands.

  "You're as clean as a pin," said she. "It would be well if others weremore like you." And she rapped gently upon Sammy's head as she passed.Sammy looked up with a grin.

  "I don't care," said he with Christmas daring. "I don't want to beclean. It's sissy."

  On the doorstep Lydia slipped her hand in Alexander's, and off theystarted. Alexander and his wife, Friend Deborah, were Quakers who hadlived for many years with Mrs. Morris, and the children knew them well.Friend Deborah wore a drab stuff dress and a kerchief like FriendMorris, and Alexander's broad-brimmed hat was quite different from thatworn by other men.

  "No, Lydia," Alexander was saying, "thee is not going to Friend Morris'shouse. She is spending the afternoon with friends in the city, and theeis to go there. And thee is going to ride on the Elevated cars."Alexander knew that Lydia would like this.

  Lydia gave a little skip of happiness. She did like to ride on theElevated train high up in the air and look straight into the windows ofthe houses as they passed. To-day, as she kneeled on the seat and lookedout, she saw Christmas Trees and family dinner-parties, a baby fastenedin a high chair drumming on the window with his new rattle, and a littlegirl holding up her Christmas dolly to look out of the window too. Atthat moment the train stopped, and Lydia and the little girl smiled andwaved and the dolly threw a stiff kiss in Lydia's direction. Then onthey went again, and all too soon Lydia and Alexander left the train,climbed down the steep flights of steps, and turned into a narrow littlestreet with small, old-fashioned brick houses on either side of the way.Before one of them Alexander stopped and rang the bell, and in a momentthe door was opened by a pretty lady with pink cheeks and soft brownhair who said, "Merry Christmas, Alexander. And this must be littleFriend Lydia. Come in, Lydia. Friend Morris is upstairs waiting foryou."

  And the pretty lady, whose name was Mrs. Blake, led Lydia into a bedroomto leave her hat and coat, and then upstairs where first of all Lydiaspied a little kitchen and then a big room where Friend Morris satbefore a blazing open fire.

  It sounds topsy-turvy, doesn't it? the bedrooms downstairs and thekitchen upstairs? But this is how it happened. Mr. Blake was an artist.He painted the most beautiful pictures in the world, Lydia thought, whenshe saw them, and his workroom or studio was the whole top floor of thehouse, except for a tiny little kitchen tucked away in a corner at thehead of the stairs. So you see for yourself why the bedrooms weredownstairs, and as Lydia afterward came to think it the nicest housethat could ever be, it must have been a good arrangement after all.

  Lydia felt at home at once, Friend Morris was so smiling, and Mrs. Blakeso friendly, and Mr. Blake so full of fun. He stood before the firelooking down at the little girl, and something in the tall figure withthe merry smile made her thoughts fly back to Santa Claus and herconversation with him the night before.

  "They wouldn't let me have anything to eat, Lydia," said he, takingLydia's hand in his, "and I'm as hungry as a bear. But now that you'vecome perhaps they will give me a cake."

  Lydia saw the cakes on a little table in the corner, and hoped that shemight have one too. But before she could answer some one jumped downfrom the window-sill and walked slowly toward her. It was a big Angoracat gray all over save for four white boots and a white necktie.

  "This is Miss Puss Whitetoes," said Mr. Blake. "Miss Puss, will youshake hands with Lydia?"

  Sure enough, Miss Puss held out her paw and shook hands most politely.Then as Lydia sat on the floor beside her, she jumped into the littlegirl's lap and in no time they were the best of friends.

  "Lydia!" said a voice from far away, "Lydia!"

  Lydia looked up from gently scratching Miss Puss's head and saw thatMrs. Blake, busy at the tea-table, was calling her. Every one wassmiling, so she smiled back.

  "Mr. Blake can't wait any longer for his cakes, Lydia," said Mrs. Blake."Will you help me pass the tea?"

  Lydia very carefully carried a cup of tea to Friend Morris, and one toMr. Blake, and then in her own cup of milk she dipped the silvertea-ball one, two, three times. It really almost tasted of tea afterthat. And as for the cakes--Lydia never before ate anything quite sogood as those little cakes.

  "And now, Friend Lydia, will thee sing a song for us?" asked Mrs.Morris.

  So Lydia sang:

  "I saw three ships go sailing by On New Year's Day in the morning."

  Then Mr. Blake and Lydia recited "The Night Before Christmas," and wereloudly applauded by Friend Morris and Mrs. Blake.

  Now the room began to grow dark. Miss Puss settled herself for a nap infront of the fire, and Mr. Blake took Lydia on his lap. He was glad tohold a little girl in his arms again, for once he had had a littledaughter of his own and had lost her.

  "Did you have a nice Christmas, Lydia?" he asked. "What did Santa Clausbring you?"

  "He brought me a doll," answered Lydia, settling down on his lap with asigh of content, "and she has a ring and a locket and so I named herLucy Locket. But that's not my real present. I must wait for that; andSanta Claus will try to bring it to me by-and-by. He promised."

  "A real present?" said Mr. Blake. "And what kind of a present is that?"

  "It's a father and a mother," whispered Lydia in his ear, "a real fatherand mother of my own. Do you think he'll bring it to me?"

  "I do," said Mr. Blake, "I do, indeed. I'm almost sure he will."

  He looked straight at Lydia as he spoke, and something in his blue eyesmade her say, "You look just like Santa Claus--the way he did lastnight."

  "Do I?" said Mr. Blake with a laugh. "Well, I don't know a better personto look like than Santa Claus."

  Lydia put up her hand and patted his face.

  "I'm goi
ng to give you something," said she. "I was saving it for MaryEllen. It's mine, I didn't eat it myself, but I want to give it to you.It's one of those good little cakes." And she drew it from her crummypocket and put it in Mr. Blake's hand.

  "Thank you, Lydia," said he, "thank you. But I wouldn't be surprised ifMrs. Blake could make up a little box for you to take home to MaryEllen. Mother!" he called, "Mother!"

  Mrs. Blake came into the room, and then, instead of saying anythingabout little cakes for Mary Ellen, "You tell her, Mother," said Mr.Blake. "You tell her."

  "Oh, Friend Morris," said Mrs. Blake, "you tell Lydia, won't you?"

  So Friend Morris came forward, and she was smiling as she had smiled allafternoon.

  "Friend Lydia," said she, "last night thee asked a present of SantaClaus, and to-day the present is given thee. Here are a good father anda good mother who will love thee well, and in turn they will have thelove of a good little daughter. Does thee not understand what I amsaying to thee, Friend Lydia?"

  For Lydia was staring at Friend Morris with wide-open eyes. She couldscarcely believe her ears. Friend Morris was still smiling, but tearswere in her eyes. Then Lydia threw her arms about Mr. Blake's neck. "Areal father," said Lydia. She turned to Mrs. Blake and held her as ifshe would never let her go. "And my own mother," said Lydia, "my ownmother."

  And there they were just so when Alexander's knock came at the door.

  "This is the nicest Christmas we've ever had, isn't it, Lydia?" said Mr.Blake, his voice a trifle husky. Lydia smiled up into his face andsoftly patted the big hand laid upon her shoulder.

  "And you'll come back day after to-morrow, Lydia, to stay," said Mrs.Blake, her arm still round the little girl, "and never go away again."

  Lydia nodded happily. She wasn't able to talk about it yet. It seemedtoo good to be true. But she gave every one a parting hug all round.Then she whispered something in Mr. Blake's ear.

  "Please don't forget the little cakes for Mary Ellen," said littleFriend Lydia.