Your friend,Perry Toddles."
Having finished reading the letter, Joe rose and flung the window wide-open, breathing deeply of the moisture-laden air. Something seemed to be choking him—"Smith wouldn't do anything that wasn't right!" His mind was in a turmoil—how that thought conflicted with the impulse of the previous moment. Below, the city lights, seductive and full of mystery, sent their alluring invitation through the fog. Down there he would find congenial friends and pleasure—as youth desired it. Here—yes, but "Smith wouldn't do anything that wasn't right, and I want to be just like him."
The sound of music, alluring, enticing, came faintly to his ears; the lights signalled frantically and the wily city smiled her invitation more urgently than ever before—and then that compelling voice of a conscience that responded to the inviolable faith of his little hero-worshipper—"Smith wouldn't do anything—"
The door burst open violently. "Ready, old Pal?" Their chorused inquiry brought him to his feet—he hesitated—and then closing the window with a bang the minister's son faced his questioners.
"I'm not going," he replied quietly but resolutely.
"Not going?" echoed his visitors quite taken aback. They had been so sure of him. They needed him, a student who stood in so well with the professors.
"Not going," said Rex and continued with a sneering laugh, "I suppose you prefer Reydal?"
"Yes," was the rejoinder, "I prefer—Reydal."
Then moved by a sudden impulse Joe called out: "Come in fellows I want to tell you why I can not go."
He took the picture from the mantle and handed it to them.
"Here is a little girl who believes in me with all her heart, and here is a boy who wants to be just like myself. He doesn't believe that Smith would do anything that was not square. It makes a lot of difference when anyone believes in you like that."
Feeling the force of Joe's argument and realizing the futility of attempting to change his decision, his disappointed visitors left. But many times that evening, in the midst of their hilarious fun, thoughts of those who believed in them as the boy and girl believed in Joe persisted in rising uncalled in their minds.
Some minutes after the four had left, a tall broad form, whose neck encased in an enormous collar rendered him especially conspicuous, entered the room without the ceremony of knocking.
"I've come to discuss with you a rather abstruse statement which I have found in Bersey's 'The Human Mind,'" boomed forth a voice from the depths of the said collar.
"Sit down, Reydal, sit down," urged Joe, placing the easiest chair in the den before the fire. "We still have two hours for our chat."
The opening days of December brought in their wake a cold spell that was more severe than had been experienced for many years so early in the season. The thermometer began to drop suddenly Friday evening, and Monday morning found the ponds ice-covered and crowded with merry school children on skates. Winter's little joke in arriving ahead of scheduled time met with their approval, even though their elders may have had reason to complain. Periwinkle and Pearl were also there, taking their first skating lesson. The teacher, watching at the window, was glad to see that Emil Maise and Washington Grey were helping Peri, while the girls of both "clans" were trying to keep Pearl on her feet.
After school was dismissed Pearl and Peri in company with one of their second cousins (George—a freckled-face red-headed youngster) hurried to a pond that glistened in the field back of Robert Grey's home. The three had been there but a few minutes when a wistful little face peered at them from Mr. Grey's back fence. It was Kitty Farwell's second son, timid little Bobby, one of the primary pupils at the village school. Pearl called to him to join them.
Bobby came running gleefully, his red-stockinged legs kicking up the soft snow in mimic clouds. After racing with the little chap for a few minutes, Pearlran back to the older lads to have her skates put on again. Then laughing and shouting, the three joined hands and skated along the pond edge while little Bobby, left alone, slid nearer and nearer toward the center of the pond. Suddenly a piercing scream reached the ears of the three skaters and they turned just in time to see Bobby's golden head disappear under the ice. For a moment all stood still as though rootedtothe spot; then Pearl and George ran as fast as their legs could carry them to the house of Mr. Grey. Peri, obeying the heroic impulse of his brave heart ran quickly but cautiously toward the thinning ice in the centre of the pond. Bobby had come to the surface and, though much frightened, had managed to grasp the edge of the broken ice. When Periwinkle came within a few feet of the child he flung himself down and wriggled carefully toward Bobby until he was able to get hold of his collar. In this position he managed to hold Bobby's head above water, but found it perilous to move or attempt to pull him up on the ice. His right arm grew numb with the weight and his left hand, cramped and twisted by his sprawling posture, pained him severely. He knew that help would come soon, but an eternity seemed to pass before he heard Mr. Grey's encouraging call, "Hold on Peri, just a minute longer." Periwinkle did hang on desperately until Mr. Grey, with the help of rails and a rope, rescued them both from their dangerous position. Then Periwinkle grew faint and dizzy and knew nothing more until he found himself on Mr. Grey's couch with Mr. Grey and Pearl bending anxiously over him. Bobby's mother, having bundled the little fellow up like a department store package, had wheeled his littlecot close up to the stove, while Bobby himself howled lustily, really none the worse for his little adventure. But Periwinkle had sprained his left wrist as Mr. Grey saw when he bathed and dressed the injured hand. His first thought was to call the doctor, but before he could do so the boy opened his eyes and begged to be taken home. Thereupon Robert Grey wrapped him up in his great fur coat and carried him as easily as if he were a baby to Miss Hetty's home.
Hetty met them at the door, her heart cold with fear. She now realized for the first time how dear Myra's children had become to her. Without a word she admitted Mr. Grey with his burden and calmly heard his account of Periwinkle's heroic deed. Not until he had placed Periwinkle in a large armchair before the fire and had turned to go did Miss Hetty address him.
"I must thank you," she said tremulously, holding Peri's hand tightly in her own, "you have saved his life."
"As he saved my nephew's," replied Robert Grey, but his voice faltered as he realized that for the first time in years he was speaking toherand thatshewas grateful to him.
Miss Maise however took no notice of his emotion.
"That was his duty," she said coldly. "Peri is a Maise through and through. He is too brave and kind to let anyone or anything perish. He risked his life to save your nephew as he would have risked his life to save Alois' terrier."
Stung by her words and manner, Mr. Grey turned again to go; yet in spite of his rebuff he thought that Hetty looked very beautiful with the sunset glowlighting up her golden head, though as cold as the snow clad peaks lighted up by the gold of the descending sun. It was Periwinkle's voice however that called him back again. "I'm so glad you came just when you did Mr. Grey," he murmured gratefully, "and Aunt Hetty and Pearl and I ain't no end thankful to you for being so kind as to carry me home, when I weigh such a heap, thanks to Aunt Hetty's corn-bread, the minister says. You do believe in the Fat Woman's golden rule, don't you?" and then he added meditatively, "I wonder whether you believe in that other rule, 'Love your enemies,' you know?"
The color rose to Miss Hetty's cheeks at her nephew's last words and deepened as Mr. Grey said quietly:
"Perhaps I believe in them too much for my own good." And the glance he directed toward the boy's aunt was half reproachful, half tender. Hetty turned quickly to wipe a bit of imaginary dust from the table, but Mr. Grey turned once more as he reached the door:
"May I send the doctor up, Miss Maise?"
Miss Maise had been trying to muster up courage to ask him that very thing, for she did not want him to think too harshly of her. Now that he had really asked, however, she replied crisply:
"Thank you, Pearl can go for me. Good evening, Mr. Grey. You have been most kind to Periwinkle."
Mr. Grey felt as if she had tried to hurry his departure, but, had he been able to read Miss Hetty's thoughts just then, his heart would have been much lighter.
Naturally enough, Peri became a hero in the village. He had saved the life of one of the Greys at therisk of his own, and the Greys could not but help making a fuss over him. The village children had learned already to love the kindhearted boy and his sweet sister; now their parents came to regard them with the same affection.
This change was noticed by the minister and in his next letter to his son he wrote: "The barriers between the two factions are slowly crumbling, simply because those children will not recognize them. Strangely enough, the strongest resistance is made by Hetty and Robert Grey, but Pearl or her brother will take them by surprise some time and then all will be well. I must tell you of something that will cause you much pleasure. It seems that the children's mother had told them of our Christmas services here and they were making great plans for Christmas eve. They have never seen a Christmas tree. Miss Hetty had not the heart to tell them that for three years we have had no Christmas Eve service, neither had Robert Grey—nor I. So one Sunday when Peri was home with his sprained wrist and Pearl of course was with him I made one final appeal to the congregation after the Sunday-school service. I could see that it was what they had all been longing for. To show you how both families feel toward those children I need mention only that Eldon Maise and Robert Grey, almost in one breath, made the motion that we have children's services on Christmas Eve this year. You must hurry home for the event."
When Joe finished reading these good news he indulged in a regular dance of delight,waltzinghis table and other articles of furniture around in such a way that, had they been possessed of the power of speech,a very strong protest would have been forthcoming.
"Hurrah! Peri has broken the ice at last," he exclaimed. "At least he has cracked it and it won't take much more to finish the job. Won't there be a big splash though when the Maises and Greys all tumble in. Those circus children of Myra Maise are the best things that ever strayed into the parish."
After Periwinkle's recovery the children's visits to Mr. Grey's home became quite frequent. Miss Maise wisely concluded that if the Greys wanted to idolize Myra's children she might as well not interfere. Pearl especially loved to visit there, for Mr. Grey, who was quite an accomplished musician, seeing her interest, helped her in her music and they spent many delightful hours in playing and singing. One Friday evening, two weeks before Christmas, Pearl had just finished singing a most wonderful melody with such sweetness and tenderness that Mr. Grey seemed almost entranced.
"Isn't it lovely?" asked Pearl breathlessly. "If that were only a church song I could sing it in the choir. The music is really church music, isn't it?" she added critically. "I believe the angel's 'Glory' song must have sounded something like this one."
"The very thing," exclaimed Mr. Grey with delight. "Nothing could suit your voice better than this song. Now if I would write a Christmas song for this music would you sing it at church on Christmas Eve?"
"Oh, Mr. Grey," cried the excited girl, "could you do that? I thought it took a wise man to write a poem." Mr. Grey passed over the uncomplimentary remark with a smile.
"I used to be rather clever at rhyming things, Pearl," he said. "If I only could write half of what is in my heart, it might make a very presentable song. And now if you will come tomorrow afternoon we'll practise it," adding, "but, Pearl dear, you must promise me not to sing it to anybody—not even to your aunt—before Christmas."
The Christmas season found Pearl and Periwinkle busily engaged in all sorts of preparations. They helped Miss Hetty bake wonderful Christmas cakes. Their combined efforts were necessary to make what they thought would be just the thing for Joe Smith. And Pearl did not hesitate to call on Miss Hetty to show her how to hemstitch a handkerchief for Robert Grey. The most fun of all, however, was to get Miss Hetty's present into the house and stow it safely away, which they finally accomplished when Miss Hetty happened to discover that there were some things which had to be attended to in the attic.
But best of all was the joy of helping Zeke Grey and Emil Maise cut down the enormous tree for the church. Nor did the children wonder, nor take any credit to themselves when the son-in-law of Jeoffrey Maise worked side by side with the nephew of Jim Grey, to set the tree in place.
Yet when it came to filling the candy sacks and decorating the tree these tasks were assigned as separate duties to the ladies of the two clans. Both parties still could not forget the past even around the children's Christmas tree. The minister's son was everywhere and so too was Alois Maise who was just home for the holidays.
While the church was thus the scene of festive preparation, Pearl was busily engaged in rehearsing her song with Mr. Grey.
"Splendid!" he exclaimed enthusiastically. "I didn't imagine that my words would fit so well. They don't amount to much in themselves, girlie, but you must sing into them all that my heart would say. Sing as you do now, and the minister and Joe and I, and perhaps—perhaps Aunt Hetty will bless you forever, dear."
The delight of dressing that evening, the joy of the hurried supper, the happiness in walking hand in hand with the beloved aunt to the brightly lighted church! How could Miss Hetty or the children ever forget that night!
"Do you know, Auntie," said Peri thoughtfully, while the soft snow fell about them, "I'm thinking of my last Christmas. How much different this one is. Now we have you, and a home, and Mr. Grey, and Joe and everything we need and everybody loves us. Even Pearl wouldn't go back to the circus for anything. But I keep thinking tonight of what the FatWoman said, last Christmas when Jerry the clown gave herasilver mirror. She said, 'Thanks awfully for making me remember that Christmas is here again. But I guess it ain't so much what we give and get as it is the way we feel about giving and getting it round Christmas time.' I told this to Joe Smith yesterday and he said, 'Yes, Peri, the spirit of Christmas is the Spirit of Him whose birthday we celebrate.' Oh, Aunt Hetty, aren't you—aren't you hoping that I'll grow up to be like Smith some day? I wish that I could do something for him. It's grand to do things to make people happy and good. I reckon the two are about the same thing, happiness and goodness. Oh, just look how the church is lit up! Have I talked too much, Aunt Hetty?"
By this time they were at the church door and, trembling with excitement, they entered. Pearl and Periwinkle took their places in the children's choir, beaming with happiness and joy, while Aunty Hetty, with a sparkle in her eyes and a new warmth in her heart, took her place near the front.
Joe Smith occupied an advantageous position from which he could see everything that was going on. There for the first time did he realize all that the children of the circus had done for the parish.
His heart was gladdened when he saw an old lady of the Grey "clan" smiling sweetly as she accepted Alois Maise's proffer of her little gilt-edge hymnbook. He smiled to himself as Hetty Maise made room forKitty Farwell when the latter, arriving late, found her own pew occupied. His smile broadened into a grin as he watched them singing from the same book, held at arm's length, as if they still were afraid of each other.
The program "passed off" much as all Christmas Eve services do, an occasional prompting, a song a trifle off key, a crying baby quickly hushed with peppermints or crackers.
But beneath it all there was a deep undercurrent of some unexplainable feeling. A ruddy glow suffused Miss Hetty's cheeks. Robert Grey felt the presence of some great unknown joy. The primary youngsters lisping their faltering words, the men lighting the candles that sent forth the glorious message sparkling from the trees, all seemed moved.
"Was the angels' song, 'Peace, good will,' at last to be realized? was it finally to find its true response in the forgiving, loving hearts of his faction-split congregation?" that was the minister's hopeful thought. Wise in experience, he recognized this pervading influence—knew that it only needed an impulse, like a spark in a powder magazine, to bring about its expression.
At last it was all over but Pearl's song. A dainty figure dressed entirely in white stepped reverently before the altar—the sweet charm of childish innocence making its appeal even before a note was sung.
The tense silence was broken. Sweet tones with throbbing notes of appeal, carrying with them that Christmas message ofimmeasurablelove, penetrated every corner of the house of worship and the heart of every listener. The story that she sung—that oft-repeated but never old message of love, of peace, of good-will, that binds the heart to God and makes the whole world kin—yes they had heard it often—but now their hearts, long irritated by selfish pride and hate, yielded to this sweet-voiced appeal, so softly yet so compellingly beating on these fast-crumbling barriers.
The song was ended. For a moment there was hushed silence. Then Jeoffrey, then Herman Grey Lane, Miss Hetty, Robert Grey—everyone arose, and the minister stood before them with tears streaming from his eyes and falteringly yet fervently pronounced upon them the benediction.
After the doxology had been sung with more fervor than melody, things happened so fast that Pearl and Periwinkle never could get them straightened out. Very little was said, but people smiled at one another through tears and clasped hands silently. And strangest of all Mr. Grey and Aunt Hetty were leaving church together, and seemed to have actually forgotten their existence. But she turned at the door, and they heard her say softly:
"The children, Robert, the dear children!" andshe came back and kissed them as she had never done before.
"Peri shall go to college in a few years," said Mr. Grey, "and Pearl shall study music." Then he kissed them also and Miss Hetty with a pretty blush called him their Uncle Robert.
The last candle on the tree twinkled and went out. Pearl, borne aloft in Uncle Robert's arms, had grown very tired and sleepy. It was Peri who told her the next day how the minister had come up just as they were leaving and had spoken some words that sounded very much like a benediction.
Transcriber's NotesObvious punctuation errors repaired.The remaining corrections made are indicated by dotted lines under the corrections. Scroll the mouse over the word and the original text willappear.
Obvious punctuation errors repaired.
The remaining corrections made are indicated by dotted lines under the corrections. Scroll the mouse over the word and the original text willappear.