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"O, Mrs. Barclay has been opening one door after another of knowledge, and we have been peeping in."
"And what special door offers most attraction to your view, of them all?"
"I don't know. I think, perhaps, for me, geology and mineralogy; but almost every one helps in the study of the Bible."
"O, do they!" said Dillwyn somewhat dryly.
"I like music best," said Madge.
"But that is not a door into knowledge," objected Lois.
"I meant, of all the doors Mrs. Barclay has opened to us."
"Mrs. Barclay is a favoured person."
"It is we that are favoured," said Madge. "Our life is a different thing since she came. We hope she will never go away." Then Madge coloured, with some sudden thought, and she went back to the former subject. "Why do you ask about the children's ages and all that, Mr.
Dillwyn?"
"I was thinking-- When a thing is to be done, I like to do it well. It occurred to me, that as Santa Claus must have something on his sledge for each one, it might be good, if possible, to secure some adaptation or fitness in the gift. Those who would like books should have books, and the right books; and playthings had better not go astray, if we can help it; and perhaps the poorer children would be better for articles of clothing.--I am only throwing out hints."
"Capital hints!" said Lois. "You mean, if we can tell what would be good for each one--I think we can, pretty nearly. But there are few _poor_ people in Shampuashuh, Mr. Dillwyn."
"Shampuashuh is a happy place."
"This plan will give you an immensity of work, Mr. Dillwyn."
"What then?"
"I have scruples. It is not fair to let you do it. What is Shampuashuh to you?"
"It might be difficult to make that computation," said Mr. Dillwyn dryly. "Have no scruples, Miss Lois. As I told you, I have nothing better to do with myself. If you can make me useful, it will be a rare chance."
"But there are plenty of other things to do, Mr. Dillwyn," said Lois.
He gave her only a glance and smile by way of answer, and plunged immediately into the business question with Madge. Lois sat by, silent and wondering, till all was settled that could be settled that evening, and she and Madge went back to the other room.
CHAPTER x.x.xVII.
AN OYSTER SUPPER.
"Hurrah!" cried Madge, but softly--"Now it will go! Mother! what do you think? Guess, Charity! Mr. Dillwyn is going to take our Sunday school celebration on himself; he's going to do it; and we're to have, not a stupid Christmas tree, but Santa Claus and his sled; and he'll be Santa Claus! Won't it be fun?"
"Who'll be Santa Claus?" said Charity, looking stupefied.
"Mr. Dillwyn. In fact, he'll be Santa Claus and his sled too; he'll do the whole thing. All we have got to do is to dress the children and ourselves, and light up the church."
"Will the committees like that?"
"Like it? Of course they will! Like it, indeed! Don't you see it will save them all expense? They'll have nothing to do but dress up and light up."
"And warm up too, I hope. What makes Mr. Dillwyn do all that? I don't just make out."
"I'll tell you," said Madge, shaking her finger at the others impressively. "He's after Mrs. Barclay. So this gives him a chance to come here again, don't you see?"
"After Mrs. Barclay?" repeated Charity. "I want to know!"
"I don't believe it," said Lois. "She is too old for him."
"She's not old," said Madge. "And he is no chicken, my dear. You'll see. It's she he's after. He's coming next time as Santa Claus, that's all. And we have got to make out a list of things--things for presents,--for every individual girl and boy in the Sunday school; there's a job for you. Santa Claus will want a big sled."
"_Who_ is going to do _what?_" inquired Mrs. Armadale here. "I don't understand, you speak so fast, children."
"Mother, instead of a Christmas tree, we are going to have Santa Claus and his sled; and the sled is to be heaped full of presents for all the children; and Mr. Dillwyn is going to do it, and get the presents, and be Santa Claus himself."
"How, _be_ Santa Claus?"
"Why, he will dress up like Santa Claus, and come in with his sled."
"Where?"
"In the church, grandmother; there is no other place. The other church have their Sunday-school room you know; but we have none."
"They are going to have their tree in the church, though," said Charity; "they reckon the Sunday-school room won't be big enough to hold all the folks."
"Are they going to turn the church into a playhouse?" Mrs. Armadale asked.
"It's for the sake of the church and the school, you know, mother.
Santa Claus will come in with his sled and give his presents,--that is all. At least, that is all the play there will be."
"What else will there be?"
"O, there'll be singing, grandma," said Madge; "hymns and carols and such things, that the children will sing; and speeches and prayers, I suppose."
"The church used to be G.o.d's house, in my day," said the old lady, with a concerned face, looking up from her knitting, while her fingers went on with their work as busily as ever.
"They don't mean it for anything else, grandmother," said Madge. "It's all for the sake of the school."
"Maybe they think so," the old lady answered.
"What else, mother? what else should it be?"
But this she did not answer.