Christmas Stories of Louisa May Alcott, The. Louisa May Alcott
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take the responsibility of this step upon yourself, do you? Very well; then I wash my hands of Turner. Only, if that bed is empty in a week, don't lay the blame of it at my door."
"Nothing shall induce me to do it, sir," briskly responded Ben. "Now then, turn in my boy and sleep your best, for I wouldn't but disappoint that cheerfulest of men for a month's wages; and that's liberal, as I ain't likely to get it."
"How is this young man after the rash dissipations of the day?" asked the doctor, pausing at the bed in the corner after he had made a lively progress down the room, hotly followed by Ben.
"I'm first-rate, sir," panted Joe, who always said so, though each day found him feebler than the last. Everyone was kind to Joe, even the gruff doctor, whose manner softened and who was forced to frown heavily to hide the pity in his eyes.
"How's the cough?"
"Better, sir. Being weaker, I can't fight against it as I used to do, so it comes rather easier."
"Sleep any last night?"
"Not much. But it's very pleasant lying here when the room is still and no light but the fire. Ben keeps it bright; and when I fret, he talks to me and makes the time go telling stories till he gets so sleepy he can hardly speak. Dear old Ben! I hope he'll have someone as kind to him when he needs it as I do now."
"He will get what he deserves by and by, you may be sure of that," said the doctor, as severely as if Ben merited eternal condemnation.
A great drop splashed down upon the hearth as Joe spoke; but Ben put his foot on it, and turned about as if defying anyone to say he shed it.
"Of all the perverse and reckless women whom I have known in the course of a forty years' practice, this one is the most perverse and reckless," said the doctor, abruptly addressing Miss Hale, who just then appeared bringing Joe's "posey-basket" back. "You will oblige me, Ma'am, by sitting in this chair with your hands folded for twenty minutes. The clock will then strike nine, and you will go straight up to your bed."
Miss Hale demurely sat down, and the doctor ponderously departed, sighing regretfully as he went through the room, as if disappointed that the whole thirty were not lying at death's door. But on the threshold he turned about, exclaimed, "Good night, boys! God bless you!" and vanished as precipitately as if a trapdoor had swallowed him up.
Miss Hale was a perverse woman in some things; for instead of folding her tired hands, she took a rusty-covered volume from the mantelpiece, and sitting by Joe's bed, began to read aloud. One by one all other sounds grew still; one by one the men composed themselves to listen; and one by one the words of the sweet old Christmas story came to them as the woman's quiet voice went reading on. lf any wounded spirit needed balm, if any hungry heart asked food, if any upright purpose, newborn aspiration, or sincere repentance wavered for want of human strength, all found help, hope, and consolation in the beautiful and blessed influences of the book, the reader, and the hour.
The bells rung nine, the lights grew dim, the day's work was done; but Miss Hale lingered beside Joe's bed. His face wore a wistful look, and he seemed loath to have her go.
"What is it, dear?" she said. "What can I do for you before I leave you to Ben's care?"
He drew her nearer, and whispered earnestly:
"It's something that I know you'll do for me, because I can't do it for myself, not as I want it done, and you can. I'm going pretty fast now, Ma'am. And when—when someone else is lying here, I want you to tell the boys—everyone, from Ben to Barney—how much I thanked 'em, how much I loved 'em, and how glad I was that I had known 'em, even for such a little while."
"Yes, Joe, I'll tell them all. What else can I do, my boy?"
"Only let me say to you what no one else must say for me, that all I want to live for is to try and do something in my poor way to show you how I thank you, Ma'am. It isn't what you've said to me; it isn't what you've done for me alone that makes me grateful. It's because you've taught me many things without knowing it, showed me what I ought to have been before, if I'd had anyone to tell me how, and made this such a happy, homelike place, I shall be sorry when I have to go."
Poor Joe! It must have fared hardly with him all those twenty years, if a hospital seemed homelike and a little sympathy, a little care, could fill him with such earnest gratitude. He stopped a moment to lay his cheek upon the hand he held in both of his, then hurried on as if he felt his breath beginning to give out:
"I dare say many boys have said this to you, Ma'am, better than I can, because I don't say half I feel. But I know that none of 'em ever thanked you as I thank you in my heart, or ever loved you as I'll love you all my life. Today I hadn't anything to give you, I'm so poor; but I wanted to tell you this, on the last Christmas I shall ever see."
It was a very humble kiss he gave that hand, but the fervor of a first love warmed it, and the sincerity of a great gratitude made it both a precious and pathetic gift to one who, half unconsciously, had made this brief and barren life rich and happy at its close. Always womanly and tender, Miss Hale's face was doubly so as she leaned over him, whispering:
"I have had my present, now. Good night, Joe."
What Polly Found in Her Stocking
With the first pale glimmer,
Of the morning red,
Polly woke delighted
And flew out of bed.
Out the door she hurried,
Never stopped for clothes,
Though Jack Frost's cold fingers
Nipped her little toes.
There it hung! The stocking,
Long and blue and full;
Down it quickly tumbled
With a hasty pull.
Back she capered, laughing,
Happy little Polly;
For from out the stocking
Stared a splendid dolly!
Next, what most she wanted,
In a golden nut,
With a shining thimble,
Scissors that would cut;
Then a book all pictures,
"Children in the Wood."
And some scarlet mittens
Like her scarlet hood.
Next a charming jump rope,
New and white and strong;
(Little Polly's stocking
Though small was very long,)
In the heel she fumbled,
"Something soft and warm,"
A rainbow ball of worsted
Which could do no harm.
In the foot came bonbons,
In the toe a ring,
And some seeds of mignonette
Ready for the spring.
There she sat at daylight
Hugging close dear dolly;
Eating, looking, laughing,
Happy little Polly!
Rosa's Tale
"Now, I believe everyone has had a Christmas present and a good time. Nobody has been forgotten, not even the cat," said Mrs. Ward to her daughter, as she looked at Pobbylinda, purring on the rug, with a new ribbon round her neck and the remains of a chicken bone between her paws.
It was very late, for the Christmas tree was decorated, the little folks in bed, the baskets and bundles left at poor neighbors' doors, and everything ready for the happy day which would begin as the clock struck twelve. They were resting after their mother's words