CHRISTMAS IN STORYLAND
CHRISTMAS IN STORYLAND
THE MAGIC CHRISTMAS GIFT[1]
Frances Margaret Fox
Itwas late autumn in the north woods, and Beatrice and Josephine were thinking about Christmas. They liked to think about Christmas: they liked to talk about it and to sing Christmas songs and to play Christmas games. Those two little girls had been known to play the game of Santa Claus filling Christmas stockings on the Fourth of July; and it was such fun they did not care who laughed.
Beatrice was seven years old and Josephine was nine that particular autumn day when they climbed to the top of the front gate posts to talk it over. There was no gate in front of their log cabin, only an opening where a gate would some day swing on hinges and fasten with a click. The gate posts were made of big, round logs of cedar, and were almost two feet taller than the top of the fence. There was a path leading from the gateway to the front door of the log cabin, and behind the cabin, and surrounding it on three sides, were the evergreen woods. In front of the cabin was a wide clearing belonging to the railway.
From early spring until late in the autumn the little girls were in the habit of climbing on the gate posts to watch the trains go by.
“I suppose if we had lots of money,” said Beatrice from the top of her gate post, “I suppose we could go to Marquette and buy Christmas presents for the whole family!”
“But most of all for mother!” added Josephine, happily kicking her feet.
“What should we get mother if we had money and could go traveling?” Beatrice inquired.
“Well,” answered Josephine, “if we ever have a ride on the cars, and if we ever go to Marquette with father and our pockets full of money, we’d buy,—we’d buy,—I don’t know what and you don’t know what!”
At that, the two little girls laughed and laughed until they almost fell off the gate posts; they liked to sit on the gate posts and laugh. For a while they talked about the Christmas presents they should like to make.
“But there should be something special for our mother,” insisted Josephine.
“Oh,” answered Beatrice, as she happily kicked her feet against her gate post, “I guess we’ll have to give mother the same old promise we give her every Christmas, that she will have all the year two little girls, oh, such good little girls, to help take care of babies and tidy up the cabin, tra la-la, tra la-la-la!”
After that, until the afternoon train whistled, themerry little girls kept choosing gifts for all the family, but most of all for mother. But the minute the train whistled, Beatrice suggested a new game.
“When the train starts puff-puff from the station just round the curve over there,” said she, “and the wheels begin to turn round slowly, and the cars come slowly, rumble-rumble, you turn square round facing the train this way, just like me, and you sing with me this song I am just thinking up, and we’ll try Christmas magic, like this:
“White magic,Christmas magic,Send our mother a Christmas gift!“Gold magic,Christmas magic,Send our mother a Christmas gift!”
“White magic,Christmas magic,Send our mother a Christmas gift!“Gold magic,Christmas magic,Send our mother a Christmas gift!”
“White magic,Christmas magic,Send our mother a Christmas gift!
“White magic,
Christmas magic,
Send our mother a Christmas gift!
“Gold magic,Christmas magic,Send our mother a Christmas gift!”
“Gold magic,
Christmas magic,
Send our mother a Christmas gift!”
By the time the passenger train was opposite the little log cabin, the laughing children were gazing straight toward it, singing over and over to the rumble of the wheels:
“White magic,Christmas magic,Send our mother a Christmas gift!“Gold magic,Christmas magic,Send our mother a Christmas gift!”
“White magic,Christmas magic,Send our mother a Christmas gift!“Gold magic,Christmas magic,Send our mother a Christmas gift!”
“White magic,Christmas magic,Send our mother a Christmas gift!
“White magic,
Christmas magic,
Send our mother a Christmas gift!
“Gold magic,Christmas magic,Send our mother a Christmas gift!”
“Gold magic,
Christmas magic,
Send our mother a Christmas gift!”
Of course those two little girls away off in the upper peninsula of Michigan, miles and miles fromany town, did not expect a magic Christmas gift for their mother; they simply had a good time, and forgot all about their game as soon as it was over and they had climbed down from their gate posts to go to the pasture after the cows.
But the day before Christmas, when the little cabin was bursting with Christmas joy and secrets, the postmaster from the settlement called to see Beatrice and Josephine.... He said he wished to speak with them alone. There was only one room in the cabin, one big, clean, cheerful room, and so the little girls climbed into the postmaster’s sleigh and drove with him beyond sight of the house. Then he said “Whoa!” to his horses, and without another word he untied a big, flat parcel that looked like a picture in a frame; and it was a picture in a frame— a big picture of two merry-looking little girls, each seated on a gate post in front of a log-cabin home that had evergreen woods behind it and a clearing in front.
It was a long time before either child could speak; then Josephine whispered, “How did it happen?”
“A lady on a passing train who is a stranger to us all,” the postmaster answered, “took a snapshot of you two, because you looked so happy. Then she had the picture enlarged and framed and sent it to me to give to you, so that you might give it to your mother for Christmas. She said she was sure I would know who you were by the picture; so, as I thought you would like a big Christmas surprise for yourmother, I asked to see you alone. Now we’ll drive back to the house.”
At last Beatrice found her voice; but “Did you ever!” was all she said, and “Did you ever!” was all Josephine said, until they remembered to thank the postmaster for his kindness.
On Christmas Eve the little girls could keep their secret no longer, and solemnly presented their mother with the magic gift.
Mother cried. Tears of joy rolled down her face when she saw it.
“I never before had a picture of any of you children,” said she, “and I never expected to, because we live so far from a photographer. And this is so beautiful! Such happy faces! Oh, it seems too good to be true! It would not have happened if you were not such good little girls, always thinking of your mother!”
The next day two joyous little girls danced about the cabin, singing:
“White magic,Christmas magic,Brought our mother a Christmas gift!“Gold magic,Christmas magic,Brought our mother a Christmas gift!”
“White magic,Christmas magic,Brought our mother a Christmas gift!“Gold magic,Christmas magic,Brought our mother a Christmas gift!”
“White magic,Christmas magic,Brought our mother a Christmas gift!
“White magic,
Christmas magic,
Brought our mother a Christmas gift!
“Gold magic,Christmas magic,Brought our mother a Christmas gift!”
“Gold magic,
Christmas magic,
Brought our mother a Christmas gift!”
And the two little faces in the picture smiled down upon the happy family cheerfully, then and ever after.
[1]This story was first printed in “Youth’s Companion,” December 21, 1916. Reprinted by special permission of the author and “Youth’s Companion.”
[1]This story was first printed in “Youth’s Companion,” December 21, 1916. Reprinted by special permission of the author and “Youth’s Companion.”