Читать книгу Harper's Young People, January 10, 1882 - Various - Страница 1

BY MRS. JOHN LILLIE

II

It seemed to Marjorie as though she never would find that particular door; but at last it was reached. She put in the key; it turned in the lock, and she went in, not a little frightened and trembling.

She found herself in a large room covered, like the rest of the castle, with crystals; but on one side of the wall seemed to be a sort of gallery, evidently overlooking some other room. "I wonder if I ought to go in?" thought Marjorie. But almost at the same moment she felt herself impelled on, and to the foot of a little staircase leading up to the gallery. Now even before she had time to be surprised at what she saw below, she had a feeling that if she asked the horse a question, he would answer from somewhere. So she said, quite aloud, "What place is this?"

And the answer sounded from somewhere, "It's Santa Claus's Council Chamber." (Marjorie felt as if it was written or spoken in big letters.)

And then Marjorie, trembling in the white gallery, looked down on the most splendid room she had ever even dreamed of. It was long and high; there were panels of crystal; there were panels of sapphire and emerald and jasper, and there were lines of golden toys strung here and there. At the upper end was a splendid throne, with reindeers on either side. The whole room was ablaze with light. Marjorie longed for a hundred eyes.

Presently there came a rushing noise like the music of a million sleigh-bells; doors behind the throne fell back, and behold! a procession entered. Crowds of brilliantly dressed people came first, and then heralds and trumpeters, and many elves ringing bells. At last a majestic figure clothed in a snowy cloak of fur, with a long white beard and a crown of icicles, appeared. Every one fell back, the ladies and gentlemen, elves and dwarfs, bowing, the trumpeters flinging back their heads and pealing forth a triumphal blare. Through this double line Santa Claus walked, and took his place on the throne. Marjorie waited, breathless, for what would come next. Then she saw that the gayly dressed ladies and gentlemen had taken places on either side of the throne, and suddenly she seemed to know just who they all were.

"Why, of course!" she whispered to herself, eagerly. They were the fairy-tale people. There was Beauty; there was Prince Charming, Cinderella, and the Sleeping Beauty, and even the Babes in the Wood. As for Jack the Giant-killer, he was there in fine array. Marjorie saw him, and lots of other dear people she loved to read about. There were absolutely no giants.

As soon as they were all seated, the doors again opened, and four dwarfs entered, bearing huge silver dishes, full of something which sent up a most delicious odor. Santa Claus stood up, and called out, loudly:

And then Marjorie perceived that this supper was for the fairy people. Those who liked it best "in the pot nine days old," grouped themselves around a great big silver kettle, and dipped in long gold spoons.

Marjorie was still watching with eager eyes, when again the doors opened and a second procession entered. This was as queer as the other was gorgeous, for all sorts of toys came in of themselves; not only rocking-horses, but baby houses and blocks (each one by itself), and toy alphabets, and tea sets walking, Noah's arks ahead of the animals, woolly dogs, and bears on sticks. Directly after them came Marjorie's horse, and Nine-times-naught, with Augusta on the Kennebec.

A second pause followed, and then a whole group of dolls rushed in. They did not come in as sedately as the toys. The French dolls flounced about, the rag dolls pushed each other, and the china dolls just seemed to come in higgledy-piggledy, anyhow. But as soon as toys and dolls had assembled, they gathered about Santa Claus's throne with a most intimate air of proprietorship. Marjorie hadn't seen him smile before.

"Now, what next?" said Marjorie.

"Will you wait?" said the voice of the horse.

But somehow Marjorie felt as if she just couldn't wait. The toys and the dolls made very free with Santa Claus. When everything and everybody looked comfortable he spoke. His voice was loud, but kind.

"Lot No. 14."

From the toys came an ark, a big doll, and a woolly horse. They stood in the middle of the splendid room, and the doll, who had on a red satin dress, came forward.

"We are very happy," she said, and Marjorie listened eagerly, never having heard a doll's voice before. "We were given to a little girl who is a cripple. She lives in a small room with her mother and two sisters. When we came, she said God was so beautiful and kind this Christmas. She sent for other children to play with us. They were ragged and cold and hungry, but they were perfectly happy and thankful because they had us. They were so happy, that they forgot that a little girl named Marjorie had been cruel to them."

(Up in the gallery Marjorie gave a little shiver, for she remembered these poor children perfectly. Her governess, Miss Marbery, had wanted her to share her Christmas money and presents with them. Marjorie had stamped her feet angrily, had called them "miserable little beggars," and had openly refused to think of such a thing. Now she bowed her head and silently cried.)

The doll seemed to have done speaking. She moved back, and took her place with the woolly horse and the ark. Marjorie heard a voice say.

"These toys can come back on New-Year's Eve for an hour or two, and report to Santa Claus," and at that minute to her horror she beheld all of her own Christmas presents troop forward.

"Where have you all been?" said Santa Claus.

It was her own doll who answered.

"We came to Marjorie," she said. "She lives in a warm, comfortable, beautiful house, where every one pets her, and is kind to her, and tries to make her happy. She is never cold, nor hungry, nor sick, but nothing pleases her. These toys did not satisfy her." (Here the toys sprang about angrily.) "She was cross and petulant, and she flung me into a corner because she did not get a new doll. All the toys hate her and despise her. She has never done anything at Christmas-time for any one else."

Then Santa Claus spoke again:

"What could she have done this Christmas?"

The doll gave a little sigh.

"I wanted very much to be given to the poor little lame girl," she answered. "To her I would have been a treasure. It would have been so easy for Marjorie to have made Christmas a happy day for a great many people."

The doll ceased speaking, and then Marjorie saw that all the fairy people were busy writing down something on the wall behind them. There was perfect silence for a moment, and then it seemed to poor bewildered Marjorie that all those beautiful walls blazed forth terrible words about herself. "Shut her out from our favor forever." "Miserable." "Ungrateful." "Cold." "Proud." "Cruel."

"Oh!" she moaned to herself, "what can I do, what can I do?"

Suddenly the clock struck twelve. New-Year's Day had come, and in a flash toys, dolls, fairy-tale people, all seemed to melt away, and Marjorie found herself cold and weary in that strange flower garden.

She stood still a moment, and listened eagerly for the sound of the horse's rock. It came at last.

"Well," he said, gravely, "you were allowed to come out. Get up into the saddle and I'll tell you why."

Marjorie obeyed, and then said, softly,

"Please why?"

"Because you are sorry for your faults – you showed humility."

"Oh yes, indeed, I am sorry," murmured Marjorie.

The horse's rock sounded a little softened. "And next year perhaps a flower may grow for you in this garden."

"I will try," Marjorie answered. "But if I never come back, how shall I know?"

"By your own feelings. When it grows, its fragrance reaches down to the world, and brings you peace and happiness. You will not need to be told that somewhere a blossom is waiting for you. God's garden paths reach down to every heart."

Marjorie sprang up. She was in her own room; it had grown dark, the fire was dying away, and there was Uncle John in his great-coat looking at her and laughing.

"Well, Pussy," he exclaimed, "you're a great girl to go to sleep. Come, I want you to go out with me and buy New-Year's presents for the Williamsons. Hurry up."

Marjorie felt dazed. What had she been dreaming about?

"Why," she said, and looked around to see her horse standing very still and bright-eyed in the middle of the room – "why, where's Augusta, on the Kennebec?" she said, suddenly, rubbing her eyes.

Uncle John roared laughing. "You've been studying too much lately, Puss," he said, kindly.

"No, I haven't," said Marjorie. "I've been a mean girl."

Later, as they were driving through the snowy streets, Marjorie put her hand into her uncle's, and said, gravely, "Uncle, where is God's garden?"

He was silent for a moment, and then he answered, quietly: "Dear, it ought to be all around us. It is wherever we can do any good or prevent any evil; the place we are going to to-night might be your part of His garden if you chose."

Marjorie looked up at the star-lit sky, wondering what she could do. Then she said to herself, "I feel as if somewhere there I might plant my flower."

And I am sure she did.