CHAPTER X

CHRISTMAS

O mellow air! O sunny light!

O Hope and Youth that pa.s.s away, Print thou in letters of delight Upon each heart one glorious day!

G. ESs.e.x EVANS.

Norah woke up early.

Close outside her open windows a magpie in the magnolia tree was carolling as though he knew it was a special morning, and that he had a special message to deliver. The linen blinds were rolled tight up, and she could see him near one of the great creamy blossoms, each big enough for his bath; his black and white coat very spruce and smart, his head thrown back in utter enjoyment of his own song. Norah smiled at him sleepily from her pillow.

"Nice old chap!" she said; and then she remembered.

"Oh!--Christmas." She gave a little happy laugh, for to-day was going to be such a very good day. There was something that had taxed all her patience; it was so hard to keep the secret until Christmas. Norah was not a very patient person by nature, and she was glad that the need for it was almost over.

She turned over lazily, and then burst out laughing as something caught her eye at the foot of the bed--a huge football stocking, a.s.suming extraordinary shapes by reason of strange packages within it, while from the top a monkey on a stick grinned at her. Norah jumped up and brought the stocking back to bed for examination, weak with laughter when she had finished. A big box of chocolates; a scarlet Christmas cracker; a very flowery mug of thickest china, with "Love the Giver" on it, and tied to the handle a label with "For a Good Little Girl" in the best handwriting of Wally, who evidently considered it not sufficiently adorned by nature; a live frog in a gla.s.s-covered box; a huge bundle, which took her many minutes to unwrap, and was finally found to contain a tiny pig of Connemara marble; a Christmas pudding the size of a golf ball; and finally, in the very toe, a minute bottle labelled "Castor Oil; Seasonable at Any Time."

"Oh, you NICE donkeys!" said the recipient of these varied gifts, lying back and investigating the chocolates. A sound at the window made her look up, and Jim's laughing face peeped round the curtain.

"Like 'em?"

"They're lovely," said Norah, fervently. "Come in, Jimmy, you old duffer. Merry Christmas!"

Jim came in, immensely tall and lean in his pyjamas, and sat down on the bed.

"Merry Christmas, old kid!" he said, and kissed her. "Taken your oil?"

"Pudding first--and chocolates," said Norah, solemnly, indicating the box. "Take lots, Jim, they're beauties. How did you get that thing into my room?"

"Waited until I could hear your cheerful snores, and then sneaked in by the window," said her brother, dodging a chocolate. "My best stocking; I think I was jolly good to lend it to you--you'll kindly notice that the frog's box tore a hole in it, and take steps accordingly! It's a ripping morning--but it's going to be hot. Do you know what time it is?"

"I don't," said Norah.

"Five o'clock," said Jim; "isn't it ridiculous!--and you wide awake and playing with pigs and frogs! I'm off to bed again for a bit--besides, young Wally's bursting to know how you liked your sock. Go to sleep again, old chap."

"I'll try," said Norah, obediently, snuggling down, "Take some chocolates to Wally--and the castor oil!"

At the moment Norah was quite convinced that sleep was the last thing possible for her, and merely laid down to please Jim, just as she would cheerfully have endeavoured to jump over the moon had he expressed any wish in that direction. Thus she was considerably surprised on waking up two hours later to hear the dressing gong pealing through the house.

Further off came the cheerful voices of Jim and Wally on their way to the lagoon. Cecil preferred the bath in the house, saying that he considered it cleaner, which remark had incensed Norah at the time. But they were learning not to worry about Cecil's remarks, but to regard him with a kind of mild toleration, as one who "could not help it."

Norah tore in haste to the bath, and returning made a speedy toilet; breakfast was to be half an hour later than usual, but still there was much to do. Her gifts to the men's quarters had gone over the night before, in charge of Mrs. Willis; still there were parcels for the girls in the house, together with the envelopes containing cheques for them, which Mr. Linton always gave into Norah's care, and of course Brownie's gifts, besides the nearer and dearer excitement of the breakfast table. To the latter she attended first, scattering parcels at each plate before any one else arrived on the scene. Then she raced off, just escaping in the hall Jim, who immediately put his hands behind him and began to whistle with great carelessness. Jim was a man of tact.

Mrs. Brown, narrowly watching some fried potatoes, heard flying footsteps, and turned to receive Norah bodily.

"Merry Christmas, Brownie, dear!" said the breathless one. She hung over the stout shoulders a tiny shawl of softest white wool.

"It's only a shawl-let," Norah explained, "just for when you feel the summer evenings get cool, you know."

"An' you made it, my precious!"

"Why, of course," said Norah, lifting her brows; "do you think I'd buy it, when you taught me to knit? Ah, Brownie, I'm having such a good time!"

"Look at me!" said Mrs. Brown, sitting down in rapture, and forgetting her frying pan entirely. "This lovely shawl--an' your Pa's cheque--and here's even Master Wally brung me down a cap, an' Master Jim--don't 'e always think!--a frame with the photer 'e took of you an' your Pa, an'

it's sollud silver, no less, if you'll believe me, an' then it's none too good for the photer, but the dear lamb knew wot I'd like more than anything on earth! Of all the loving--kindest children--" At this point Brownie's feelings overcame her, and she sniffed and, inhaling a threat of burnt potato, rushed to conceal her emotions over the stove.

Sarah and Mary felt delighted with the pretty collars Mrs. Stephenson had chosen for Norah in Melbourne; the daughter of the house encountered Jim returning from the back regions, with a broad smile on his brown face. Jim's invariable gift to Lee Wing was a felt hat, and as the Celestial still wore the one first given, eight Christmases before, it was popularly supposed that the intermediate half-dozen went to support his starving relatives in China! Lee Wing had never mentioned the existence of any starving relatives, but Wally said it was well known that all Chinese gardeners had them--speaking, as Norah remarked, as though it was a new complaint, like measles or mumps!

"You didn't give Wing another hat, Jim?" queried his sister.

"I did, though," returned Jim, firmly. "Asked him at midwinter what he'd have, and he grinned and said, 'Allee same hat!' So he got it--a lovely green one!"

"Jim!--not green! For Lee Wing!"

"There weren't any other colours left," said Jim; "next year it would have had to be pale blue! He took it with a heavenly smile, and looked at it all over inside and out; then he looked down at his feet, and I beheld his toe sticking out of his boot. He didn't say 'Thank you' at all. What he did say was 'Nex'-Clis'mas-socks,' all in one word, and you couldn't have widened his smile without shifting his ears further back!"

"Merry Christmas, Norah, asth.o.r.e!" said a cheerful voice, and Norah turned to greet Wally. So Wally had to hear the story of Lee Wing all over again, and they were laughing over it when Mr. Linton came out on the verandah, pausing in the doorway a moment to look at the slender figure in the blue frock, with white collar and tie, and the tall lads in white flannels beside her.

Three greetings flashed at him simultaneously as he came into view.

"Merry Christmas, every one!" he said, one hand on his small daughter's shoulder. "Going to be a hot Christmas, too, I believe. Where's Cecil?"

"Coming," said that gentleman, exchanging good wishes with a languid air. "Sorry to be late, but I couldn't open the bathroom door."

Wally started.

"Good gracious, was it you in there?" he asked anxiously. "I thought it was Norah--and we wanted her out of the way at the moment, so I barricaded the door! Then I saw her afterwards, so I reckoned she'd got out all right, and I never bothered to take down the barricade. I'm awfully sorry!"

Every one laughed but Cecil, who saw nothing humorous in having been obliged to climb through the bathroom window, and said so with point.

"I'm a fearful a.s.s, truly," said Wally, with contrition. "Norah, you've no need to laugh like a hyena--you ought to have been there, if you weren't!"

"That's why I laugh," Norah explained kindly. "Never mind, it's Christmas--and there's breakfast!"

It was the gong, but not breakfast. Mrs. Brown knew better than to send in the porridge with the gong on Christmas morning. Instead, the table was heaped with parcels, a goodly pile by every plate.

"What an abominable litter!" said Mr. Linton, affecting displeasure.

"Norah, kindly oblige me by getting those things out of your way. How are you going to eat breakfast?"

"You're as bad as I am, Daddy!"

"Dear me!" said her father. "I seem to be. Well, yours is decidedly the most untidy, so you had better begin."

They watched the eager face as Norah turned to her bundles. Books from Cecil and his mother; warm slippers made by Brownie; a halter exquisitely plaited from finest strips of hide by Murty O'Toole, the sight of which brought the whole gathering to Norah's side; from Wally a quaint little bronze inkstand, and from Jim the daintiest horse rug that Melbourne could produce, made to fit Bobs, with a big scarlet B in one corner, and Norah's monogram in the other. "Not that he needs it just now," Jim explained, as Norah hugged him--"but a store's no sore, as Brownie'd say!" Last, a tiny velvet case, which concealed a brooch--a thin bar of gold with one beautiful pearl. Norah did not need the slip of paper under it to know it came from Dad.