The Misfit Christmas Puddings.

by Club Consolation.

_First Episode_

HERR BAUMGaRTNER'S ESTABLISHMENT EIGHT O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING THE DAY BEFORE CHRISTMAS

'Twas the day before Christmas, yet there was no need to tell that to any one in Buffalo, for everywhere in the city was the stir and excitement that precedes a great holiday. Every one seemed to be alert and in a hurry. The very air was full of Christmas scents. One felt that something unusual was going on, and nowhere was this more apparent than in Baker Baumgartner's large establishment.

Among the German residents of this prosperous lake port this was the most popular bakery in the town, and Herr Baumgartner was caterer and confectioner as well as baker. Consequently he had a very large trade, and the twelve wagons that were despatched daily from the Baumgartner bakery went to all parts of the city. Not only was he popular among the German residents, but whoever had once tasted the baker's crisp rolls and genuine German rye bread--not to mention the Lebkuchen and Pfeffernusse at Christmastime--never neglected an opportunity to order more. Even the delicious Marzipan Brod--a sweetmeat made of almonds, sugar, and rose-water--was not omitted from his Christmas confections.

Certainly, Herr Baumgartner's establishment was almost too tempting for one who possessed but a slender pocketbook at Christmas-time.

The windows, washed and polished until they fairly shone, were now hung with wreaths of holly, and festoons of evergreens were draped across both doors and windows in token of the holiday season. Two large firtrees in boxes stood on each side of the entrance.

Herr Baumgartner's Christmas windows were the great delight of all the children in the neighborhood, for in one stood a tall Christmas tree from whose branches dangled the most wonderful candies and cakes,--boys and girls, kings and queens, cows, dogs, funny fat pigs, violins, real Swiss houses,--in fact all kinds of toys. These were made either of chocolate, sugar, or gingerbread. This marvellous tree was also adorned with a huge silver star at the top, while glittering gold and silver paper chains were suspended from its branches. These, and the many colored candles, made it a bewildering sight. Truly, it was a real fairy Christmas tree.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "THE GREAT DELIGHT OF ALL THE CHILDREN"]

Perhaps no one but Herr Baumgartner himself knew that this tree was in memory of a little boy who long years before had spent a few short Christmas days with him, for Herr Baumgartner's only son had died when three years old. The baker was not a man who was supposed to have much sentiment, but he would as soon omit the baking of the Christmas cakes as omit the Christmas tree in remembrance of little Fritz. It certainly was a joy and delight to all the children round about, and so great was its fame that many a child begged "to go just once"--if he lived a long way off--and see the Baumgartner's wonderful Christmas tree.

Though it was yet early in the morning the wagons were already returning from the delivery of the breakfast rolls and bread. The air of the store was odorous with appetizing scents, attesting the baker's concocting skill. The shelves were filled with fragrant fresh bread, and there was an extra supply of cakes and buns.

Under the gla.s.s cases were arranged the most tempting holiday cakes.

Particularly attractive was the Lebkuchen,--a highly spiced gingerbread,--which was artistically made into different shapes, some square, others large and round, while again others were in the form of hearts with an ornament of sugar-work around the outside. On many were the words, "Merry Christmas," in tiny red and white candies. The animals made of gingerbread were as numerous as those that went into the Ark. These were done over with a thin white icing, and not a child that entered the bakery could be induced to leave without at least one animal which he selected as his fancy prompted him, while many almost wept because they could not buy all. But perhaps for "grown-ups" the favorite cakes were the hard little Pfeffernusse.

Large wreaths of pine were suspended from the ceiling, and a feeling of homesickness came over many a German customer at the smell of the favorite Lebkuchen and the words, "Frohliche Weihnachten,"--for Baker Baumgartner was a shrewd man and wished his customers a merry Christmas in German as well as in English,--and they thought of the joyful times in the Fatherland when the Christ-child had visited the home and had brought them just such simple gifts as these.

Baker Baumgartner was a big, burly man with a loud, gruff voice. He expected prompt obedience from all his employees,--apprentice boys, bakers, and clerks alike,--and this he usually obtained. He was very methodical, attending to every detail of his large business and knowing just what to require from every one under him.

"Be fair and honest" was his motto; yet he delighted in "making moneys,"--as he expressed it,--but honestly.

His interests in life seemed to be divided between his growing business and his pretty daughter, Katrina. She was the idol of his eye and he could refuse her nothing, though counted close in business matters.

It was eight o'clock in the morning and trade was beginning briskly.

The telephone orders kept the bell jingling. The clerks and bakers were prepared for a busy day, and had received from Herr Baumgartner their special instructions in regard to the catering and delivering.

Already early customers were beginning to come in.

Herr Baumgartner stood near a table which was in the rear of the store. On this table were displayed thirteen Christmas puddings, set apart in royal aloofness. These the baker intended as presents to some of his best customers.

"Ach, dose puddings!" he soliloquized. "Goot, rich, schon! But I get my moneys back again." In other words, he antic.i.p.ated a large return from a small investment.

Baker Baumgartner knew how to do the handsome thing upon occasion, and was possessed of a generosity which, like Bob Acres' courage, "came and went." Just now it was at full tide. Desirous of presenting his gifts in the best possible manner, he went to his desk, and taking out thirteen gilt-edged cards, he wrote on each: "With the Christmas Greetings of Herr Wilhelm Baumgartner." He next took from its wrapping a quant.i.ty of pink and blue tissue paper with embroidered edges.

At this moment Hans Kleinhardt, his head clerk, entered the store.

"Hans, come you here once!" cried the baker. "Dot fine puddings vat you see dere are for my thirteen best customers. Vat you tink, Hans,"--showing him the tissue papers, "joost de ting to wrap dot puddings in, nicht wahr? Always in Hirschberg dey say to me, 'Ach, Herr Baumgartner, Sie haben immer so schones Papier.'"

[Ill.u.s.tration: "'FOR MY THIRTEEN BEST CUSTOMERS'"]

"Ja, ja," a.s.sented Hans, "it is so fine already."

So anxious was our Hans to ingratiate himself and make a good impression,--for Hans was ambitious,--that had Herr Baumgartner wished them wrapped in circus posters Hans would have said: "Ja, ja, it is so fine already."

"Dot pink, Hans, ist ausgezeichnet, dot will we haf, and moreover on each tie you a piece of dat Christmas holly mit de red berries. Hans, see. Here is dat list of mein thirteen best customers. Send you dem dose puddings. Each and efery pudding is joost quite alike. Here are dose cardts mit vich I send dem my Christmas Greetings. You see dot dose puddings get sent dis Christmas eve."

Hans put the list and the thirteen cards into his pocket and promised to attend to the order faithfully.

"A 'phone call for you, sir," said one of his clerks.

Herr Baumgartner went slowly to the telephone. Nothing ever made the good baker hurry, for haste was not in his make-up.

"h.e.l.lo, vat you vant?"

A large order had not been delivered. That was an unpardonable offence in the Baumgartner establishment. The baker was slow to be aroused, but when once his anger was awakened he was, indeed, a furious man.

The wild, fierce Teuton in him got the upper hand.

"Donner Wetter!" he cried. "Vat for dat big order not delivered, and vone of mein goot customers dat leaves me much moneys? You tink I hire you for noddings, eh? Joost to trow my moneys away on you?"

He stormed and raged at the unlucky clerk through whose carelessness the mistake had occurred.

"Himmel!" he yelled. "How come dat you forget? You are one Dummkopf! I haf not served in die German army for noddings, and ven I say 'You delifer dose tings on Monday' I mean on Monday, and not on Tuesday.

You hear dat now?"

The unhappy clerk acknowledged that he heard, and, fortunately for him, the entrance of a wealthy customer saved him from further wrath.

The sincere admiration expressed by the customer for the Christmas decorations and the Christmas confections was appreciated by the baker, and the pleasant words, being supplemented by a large order, restored Herr Baumgartner to his usual good humor. As he returned to his office he could not refrain from pausing a moment beside the table which held the Christmas puddings.

"Ach, dose puddings!" he commented, viewing them with professional pride, "Dey are joost like von picture!"

_Second Episode_

WIDOW M'CARTY'S ABODE MORNING OF THE DAY BEFORE CHRISTMAS

Down on the tow-path was a little, weather-beaten shanty that presented a far different setting for the enactments of the coming holiday.

Here, for six sad months, the Widow M'Carty had tried to keep the wolf from the door, but work as she might, her efforts would hardly have frightened an able-bodied weasel.

It was now some eight months since Michael M'Carty, broad-shouldered, courageous, and loving, had rushed home to his snug cottage one noon-time with the news that he had shipped as a.s.sistant engineer on the big, new freighter, the _Go-Between_, which was to leave port that very night.

Bridget, his wife, had smiled bravely at him through tears that the prospect of separation called to her eyes, but went thriftily to work to get his clothes in readiness; "Fer," said she, "there'll be no tellin' whin they'll feel a needle again."

Michael M'Carty had followed the lakes before, and now with better wages than ever it was no time for "complainin'." Indeed, there never had been any time for "complainin'" in Bridget's cheery, helpful life.

Even the maternal cares which had multiplied so rapidly had not robbed her of her girlish buoyancy, and the ninth little M'Carty, at that moment enjoying her father's parting fondling, had been just as welcome as the first, now a proud member of the highest "Grammar Grade," though barely thirteen.