A Little Girl in Old New York Part 21

"Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!" some one shouted while it was still dark. Hanny woke out of a sound sleep. "Merry Christmas," said Margaret with a kiss.

"Oh dear, I shan't get ahead of anybody," she sighed. "Do you think I could get up, Peggy?"

"I must light a candle," Margaret said.

"Come down and see what's in your stocking, Han!" shouted Jim.

Margaret sprang out of bed and put on the little girl's warm woollen wrapper and let her go down. She ran eagerly to her mother's room, and her father made believe asleep that she might wake him up. She wanted to wish some one Merry Christmas the first of all.

Two wax candles were burning in the back room and the fire was crackling. There were stockings and stockings, and hers were such little mites that some one had hung a white bag on the bra.s.s nail that held the feather-duster, and marked it "For Hanny." And a box lay in a chair.

There was a cruller man with eyes, nose, and mouth. There were candies galore, the clarified ones, red and yellow, idealized animals of all kinds. There was an elegant silver paper cornucopia tied with blue ribbons. There was a box of beautiful pop-corn that had turned itself inside out. Ribbon for her hair, a paint-box, a case of Faber pencils, handkerchiefs, a lovely new pink merino dress, a m.u.f.f that purported to be ermine, a pair of beautiful blue knit slippers tied with ribbons.

These didn't come from Santa Claus, for they had on a card--"With best love and a Merry Christmas, from Dolly." That was Dolly Beekman. Hanny laid them up against her face and kissed them, they were so soft and beautiful.

She drew a long breath before she opened the box. Of course it couldn't be a real live kitty. John and Steve were coming in at the door.

"Merry Christmas!" she shouted with the boys They were not so very far ahead of her.

Steve caught her under the arms and held her almost up to the ceiling, it seemed. She was so little and light.

"Ten kisses before you can come down."

She paid the ten kisses, and would have given twice the number.

"I'm trying to guess what is in the box." She looked perplexed and a crease came between her eyes.

"It's a chrononhontontholagosphorus!"

"A--what?" Her face was a study.

The boys shouted with laughter.

"Yes, Joe sent it. Santa Claus had given his all out, and Joe had to skirmish around sharp to get one."

"Is it alive?" she asked timidly, her eyes growing larger with something that was almost fright.

"Oh, Steve!" said Margaret, in an upbraiding tone. "Boys, you're enough to frighten one."

Steve untied the string and took off the cover. Hanny had tight hold of her sister's hand. Steve lifted some tissue paper and tilted up the box.

There lay a lovely wax doll with golden hair, a smiling mouth that just betrayed some little teeth, eyes that would open and shut. She was dressed in light-blue silk and beautiful lace. Though her mother had said she was too big to have a doll, Joe knew better.

She was almost speechless with joy. Then she knelt down beside it and took one pretty hand.

"Oh," she said, "I wish you could know how glad I am to have you!

There's only one thing that could make me any gladder, that would be to have you alive!" Steve winked his eyes hard. Her delight was pathetic.

Then she had to see the boys' Christmas. Benny Frank had a new suit of clothes, Jim had a pair of boots, which was every boy's ambition then, and an overcoat. And lots of books, pencils, gloves, and the candy it would not have been Christmas without.

Mr. Underhill poked up the fire and took the little girl on his knee.

Mrs. Underhill put out the candles, for it was daylight, and then went down to help get breakfast. Cousin Fannie and Roseann, as Mrs. Eustis was always called, came in and had to express their opinion of everything. Then breakfast was ready.

John went down in the sleigh for Aunt Patience and Aunt Nancy Archer.

They were not own sisters but sisters-in-law and each had a comfortable income. It did not take very much to make people comfortable then. They owned their house and rented some rooms.

Hanny had to go in and see Josie and Tudie Dean's Christmas and bring them in to inspect hers. Then Dele and Nora Whitney were her next callers. Nora had a silk dress and a gold ring with a prettily set turquoise.

"The marriage was at ten," began Dele, "and it was just nothing at all.

I wouldn't be married in such a doleful way. She just had on a brown silk dress with lots of lace, and white gloves, and the minister came and it was all over in ten minutes. There was wedding-cake and wine.

I've brought you in some to dream on. Nora and I are going down to Auntie's in Beach Street where there's to be a regular party and a Christmas tree and lots of fun. After 'Phelia comes back she's going to have a wedding-party and wear her real wedding-dress."

Nora thought the doll beautiful. Hanny just lifted it out of the box and put it back. It seemed almost too sacred to touch.

Jim went out presently to get some Christmas cake. The grocers and bakers treated the children of their customers to what was properly New Year's cake, and the boys thought it no end of fun to go around and wish Merry Christmas.

The dinner was at two. Doctor Joseph came in to dine and to be congratulated by the cousins. The little girl's grat.i.tude and delight was very sweet to him. He put up the piano stool and she played her pretty little exercises for him. Then about four he and Steve went down to the Beekmans, where there was a dancing party in the evening.

The elders sat and talked, to Benny Frank's great delight. The "old times" seemed so wonderful to the children. Aunt Patience was the elder of the two ladies, just turned seventy now, and had lived in New York all her life. She had seen Was.h.i.+ngton when he was the first President of the United States, and lived in Cherry Street with Mrs. Was.h.i.+ngton and the two Custis children. Afterward they had removed to the Macomb House.

Everything had been so simple then, people going to bed by nine o'clock unless on very special occasions. To go to the old theatre on John Street was considered the height of fas.h.i.+onable amus.e.m.e.nt. You saw the Secretaries and their families, and the best people in the city.

But what amused the children most was the Tea Water Pump.

"You see," said Aunt Patience, "we had nice cisterns that caught rainwater for family use, and we think now our old cistern-water is enough better than the Croton for was.h.i.+ng. There were a good many wells but some were brackish and poor, and people were saying then they were not fit to use. The Tea Water pump was on the corner of Chatham and Pearl, and particular people bought it at a penny a gallon. It was carried around in carts, and you subscribed regularly. My, how choice we were of it!"

"There's a pump down here at the junction that's just splendid!" said Jim, "I used to go for water last summer, it was so good and cold."

"We miss our nice spring at home," said Mrs. Underhill, with a sigh.

"And what else?" subjoined Ben.

"Oh, the milk did not go round in wagons. There were not half so many people to supply. We kept a cow and sold to our neighbors. The milkmen had what was called a yoke over their shoulders, with a tin can at each end. They used to cry, 'Milk ho! ye-o!' The garbage man rang his bell and you brought out your pail. A few huckster men were beginning to go round, but Hudson Market was the place to buy fresh vegetables that came in every morning. And, oh, there were the chimney-sweeps!"

"We had our chimney swept here," said Jim. "The man had a long jointed handle and a wiry brush at the end."

"But then there were little negro boys who climbed up and down and sometimes sc.r.a.ped them as they went. But several were smothered or stuck fast in London and it was considered cruel and dangerous. You'd hear the boys in the morning with their 'Sweep ho!' and you wouldn't believe how many variations they could make to it."

"Poor little boys!" said Hanny. "Didn't they get awful black and sooty?"

The boys laughed. "They were black to begin with," said Jim. "All they had to do was to shake themselves."

"And how do you suppose Santa Claus keeps so clean?" asked the little girl, nothing daunted.

That was a poser. No one could quite tell.

"We used to burn out our chimney," announced Aunt Patience.

"Burn it out?"

"Yes. We'd take a rather lowering day, or start in just as it was beginning to rain. We'd put a heap of straw in the fireplace and kindle it, and the soot would soon catch. Then some one would go up on the roof to see if the sparks caught anywhere. We never let it get very dirty.