Chapter XIV: Christmas Day

IT is Christmas day. The chimes in the spire of the new church are playing sweet melodies; and the Sunday-school children, whose gift the chimes have been, are gathering together from all quarters of the town to practise with their teachers the Christmas carols they are to sing.

This is the first service in the beautiful new church. It is to be publicly dedicated to the worship of God on the next Sabbath, but for weeks the workmen have put forth all their energies to have it ready for a service on Christmas day. The choir have been practising, too; and it is rumored new organist is expected, although his engagement does not commence till the first of January.

The sleigh-bells jingle merrily, for the ground is covered with snow. Even now, an hour before service, several stalls in the neat row of horse-sheds are occupied. Now here comes Farmer Rand, smiling and nodding, and shouting his Christmas salutations to young and old, as he drives his old horse up the ascent, through the gate close to the nicely shovelled flagged walk to the front. The good farmer has a precious load to-day, and he is very careful of it. Yes, that is Lucy, his old woman, so wrapped up in shawls and buffalo-robes— with a hot brick in her great yellow muff, and another at her feet, which just now are cased in a pair of her husband's blue socks— that she finds it almost impossible to alight from the sleigh.

For weeks the good woman has been nursing her strength for this great and joyful occasion. For days she and her man have watched the signs of the weather, have even prayed that, if it was God's will, it might be so propitious as to make it safe for her to go up to the house of the Lord and join with His people in their anthems of praise to the new-born King.

Fortunately the sexton has recognized the farmer, and runs quickly to offer his services it helping her to the porch. One and another come forward to greet her and express their pleasure at seeing her here. The children, even, gather round her pew and say,—

"Merry Christmas, Miss Rand! How do you like the new church?"

Yes, on this natal day of the world's Redeemer every face looks joyful, every voice responds heartily to the kind wishes of his neighbor. It is evident that a great wave of love and good-will is flowing through all their hearts as they suddenly pause and listen to the children's joyous tones chanting the strains the angels sang, "Glory to God in the highest. Peace on earth, good-will to men."

The service is to commence at eleven. The hand on the new and elegant clock, a gift from the Pastor, points to five minutes before eleven; the children have finished their practising and gone quietly to their seats at one end of the organ loft. The slips are all full. There is a hush. There comes the pastor and his bride, not a stranger, but known and loved by all. Pausing for an instant to show her into the pew, the first one selected in the house, he passes on up the aisle into the study at the side of the pulpit. Ethel, the only other occupant of the slip, causes a smile by her obsequious attentions to the bride. She takes a hymn-book from the rack, and, though unable to read a word, opens it and passes it, gets as near Marion as possible, and finally, with a burst of affection, seizes her hand.

And Marion, her beaming face radiant with happiness, stands up with the congregation, while the choir sing the famous old fugue,—

"While shepherds watched their flocks by night, All seated on the ground, The angel of the Lord came down, And glory shone around."

Recalling all the goodness of the Lord to her during the last year, the answers to her prayers, the many friends, who, one year ago, were without Christ, now with Him, the happiness to which she may look forward with the chosen companion of her life, her heart swells with gratitude to the good Father who has directed her path in such mercy, and to the dear Saviour whose advent they are so joyously celebrating. She thanks God, and takes courage to go on laboring to bring those about her to a saving knowledge of His love.

Her husband, glancing at her from the pulpit, sees that her eyes are filled with tears, and he, too, thanks God, as he says to himself, "They are happy tears."

As long as we are the inhabitants of this earth, we must expect occasional clouds with our sunshine. Disappointments are the lot of mankind, and certainly neither Mr. Angus nor Miss Howard expected to be exempt from them. The plan from the first had been to have the wedding the week before Christmas, and a reception or housewarming at Ingleside the following Monday. But, from one cause and another, the new house was not finished, and this plan had to be postponed.

It was Marion's preference to defer the wedding till such time as the house was considered fit for occupation. Such a pressure was, however, brought to bear on her, that she yielded to the wishes of her friend. He brought so many arguments to prove that the plan he now proposed was even better than the original one, that the few weeks before entering on the duties of housekeeping would give her just the leisure necessary for the formation of some of their new plans, etc., that, with a hearty laugh, she replied,—

"I see that you intend to have your way, and as I believe that God intended the husband to be the head of the family, I suppose I may as well begin my obedience now. So on the week before Christmas the wedding shall be."

I am very sure if my reader had not seen Mr. Angus since I first introduced him he would not recognize him now. Then he was bowed down with grief, not only for himself, but for one whom he had every reason to suppose was cherishing as toward her brother such anger in her heart as would cut her off from Divine forgiveness. He was, or felt himself to be, alone in the world. He had no right to form a tie which would make another the sharer of such a burden as his. To be sure, he had brooded over that one scene in his past life until he had become morbid, and perhaps had not relief come to him he might have become unfit to preach the gospel of glad tidings to his fellow-men. When he walked, his eyes were cast down to the ground, while sighs were much more frequent with him than smiles.

Now how different. He walked erect, with elastic tread, his eyes met yours with a frank smile. One could scarcely be with him five minutes without being drawn to him by a certain magnetism. You felt that his heart was at rest, and more, you could not fail to be sure that he was grateful for God's goodness, that he was literally obeying the Divine injunction, "Rejoice in the Lord alway, and again, I say, rejoice."

Mr. and Mrs. Asbury cordially extended an invitation to the young couple to remain with them till spring. The gentleman even urged the necessity of having his niece close at hand until certain building plans, etc., were complete. But this needs explanation.

It was not probable that such grateful friends as Mr. and Mrs. Lambert would allow so grand an occasion as Miss Howard's marriage to take place without some act expressive of their deep affection and respect. Now that Mr. Lambert had a wife and daughter with whom he could consult, he spent much time in the discussion of what would be the most acceptable wedding present. Once, hearing the word "jewelry" from his daughter, he shouted,—

"Jewelry! Would she like diamonds? I'll buy up a case of them."

"I said I was sure she would not care for jewelry."

"What shall it be, then? Not that anything we can do will ever prove to her our sense of her goodness and faithfulness to us; but it must be something to show her that I value my family, owe to her my finding them."

One day, before she left the city, Marion accepted an urgent invitation to pass a day at the country home of her friends. She also was requested to bring Esther and Neddy Carter with her. During the day, the young lady, wholly unsuspicious of the object of the visit, frankly narrated her own and Mr. Angus's plans for the good of the town. Among other things, she said that there was no library for free circulation, adding, "One of my most-cherished plans is to build a neat and attractive house, with two large rooms, one for a library of well-selected books, the other a reading-room for both secular and religious papers, and also some of the best magazines. But we can't do everything in one year."

Mrs. Lambert had suggested to her impulsive husband that it would be more delicate not to allude to the subject of a wedding gift, but here, he thought, is just the way to please her. He rushed from the room, motioning his wife to follow, and after sundry antics, such as would have better befitted Geenie's years, he drew a blank check, and with his fingers on his lips, held it up before his astonished companion.

"It's for the library," he said, putting his lips close to her ear.

She nodded approval with a cordial smile, but pointed to the blank space.

"Let her fill it up. Will ten thousand do? It must be nothing mean."

"Suppose we wait a little and try to ascertain the probable cost."

"No, I can't wait! I want it off my mind. If you don't want to see old Mr. Regy," with a comical grin, "you'll help me now."

She put her hand lovingly on his shoulder, which never failed to calm his impatience, and asked softly, "Why not, then, let her fill it up, as you suggested?"

"So I will!" He held the check toward her and motioned her to give it.

"No, my dear, generous husband, that pleasure belongs to you; I can see just how her eyes will sparkle and those pretty dimples begin to play."

He flatly refused. "No," he said, laughing, "if I were to attempt it I should be old Regy again in a minute."

She sat down at his desk and wrote,—

Dear Friend,—

We have tried in vain to think of a gift for your approaching marriage which will in any measure suitably express to you our appreciation of your invaluable friendship.

Your remark just now in regard to a library and reading-room has suggested the idea of giving to you funds sufficient for that worthy object and letting you use them as you think proper.

JULIETTE D. LAMBERT. M. R. LAMBERT.

She gave it to her husband to read and sign, enclosed the blank check, and carried it into the next room and gave it to Miss Howard.

With what astonishment and delight the young lady read it, the embraces and thanks which followed, I must leave my reader to imagine. In the midst of the excitement which followed, Mr. Lambert, who had chosen to remain behind, raced from one end of the room to the other, where he was found by Eugene holding on to his sides and making the most strenuous endeavors to restrain his laughter.

In consequence of this generous gift, a lot of land was purchased, not far from the public school, and the town at a public meeting, called for the purpose, added to the library lot a large field formerly used for pasturage. This was to be fitted up for all sorts of games and athletic sports.

Mr. Lambert and his family went to Grantbury, and insisted that the library building be two stories, the upper story to be finished off into a hall for concerts, school exhibitions, etc. The eccentric old gentleman was very angry when it was proposed to name this "Lambert Hall," in token of gratitude to the giver.

"I've nothing to do with it," he insisted. "Put it Howard Hall or Angus Hall, if you please. It's nothing to me, any way."

"Except that your name stands at the bottom of the check for the cost," replied Marion, with an arch glance in his face.

"Things have come to a pretty pass—wedding present—chose that rather than diamonds."

He was growling away in the genuine old style, when Geenie made them all laugh heartily by calling out,—

"Grandma, did you bring Mr. Regy's wig? He has come back again."