THE BIRDS’ CHRISTMAS CAROL(鸟儿的圣诞颂歌)

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THE BIRDS' CHRISTMAS CAROL

THE BIRDS'

CHRISTMAS CAROL

BY KATE DOUGLAS WIGGIN

The Three Dearest Children in the World, BERTHA, LUCY, AND

HORATIO.

"O little ones, ye cannot know The power with which ye plead,

Nor why, as on through life we go, The little child doth lead."

THE BIRDS' CHRISTMAS CAROL

I. A LITTLE SNOW BIRD.

It was very early Christmas morning, and in the stillness of the dawn,

with the soft snow falling on the housetops, a little child was born in the

Bird household. They had intended to name the baby Lucy, if it were a girl;

but they hadn't expected her on Christmas morning, and a real Christmas

baby was not to be lightly named--the whole family agreed in that. They

were consulting about it in the nursery. Mr. Bird said that he had assisted

in naming the three boys, and that he should leave this matter entirely to

Mrs. Bird; Donald wanted the child called "Maud," after a pretty little

curly-haired girl who sat next him in school; Paul chose "Luella," for

Luella was the nurse who had been with him during his whole babyhood,

up to the time of his first trousers, and the name suggested all sorts of

comfortable things. Uncle Jack said that the first girl should always be

named for her mother, no matter how hideous the name happened to be.

Grandma said that she would prefer not to take any part in the discussion,

and everybody suddenly remembered that Mrs. Bird had thought of

naming the baby Lucy, for Grandma herself; and, while it would be

indelicate for her to favor that name, it would be against human nature for

her to suggest any other, under the circumstances. Hugh, the "hitherto

baby," if that is a possible term, sat in one corner and said nothing, but felt,

in some mysterious way, that his nose was out of joint; for there was a

newer baby now, a possibility he had never taken into consideration; and

the "first girl," too, a still higher development of treason, which made him

actually green with jealousy. But it was too profound a subject to be

settled then and there, on the spot; besides, Mama had not been asked, and

everybody felt it rather absurd, after all, to forestall a decree that was

certain to be absolutely wise, just and perfect. The reason that the subject

had been brought up at all so early in the day lay in the fact that Mrs. Bird

never allowed her babies to go over night unnamed. She was a person of

so great decision of character that she would have blushed at such a thing;

she said that to let blessed babies go dangling and dawdling about without

names, for months and months, was enough to ruin them for life. She also

THE BIRDS' CHRISTMAS CAROL

said that if one could not make up one's mind in twenty-four hours it was a

sign that--but I will not repeat the rest, as it might prejudice you against

the most charming woman in the world. So Donald took his new

velocipede and went out to ride up and down the stone pavement and

notch the shins of innocent people as they passed by, while Paul spun his

musical top on the front steps. But Hugh refused to leave the scene of

action. He seated himself on the top stair in the hall, banged his head

against the railing a few times, just by way of uncorking the vials of his

wrath, and then subsided into gloomy silence, waiting to declare war if

more "first girl babies" were thrust upon a family already surfeited with

that unnecessary article. Meanwhile dear Mrs. Bird lay in her room, weak,

but safe and happy with her sweet girl baby by her side and the heaven of

motherhood opening before her. Nurse was making gruel in the kitchen,

and the room was dim and quiet. There was a cheerful open fire in the

grate, but though the shutters were closed, the side windows that looked

out on the Church of our Saviour, next door, were wide open. Suddenly a

sound of music poured out into the bright air and drifted into the chamber.

It was the boy-choir singing Christmas anthems. Higher and higher rose

the clear, fresh voices, full of hope and cheer, as children's voices always

are. Fuller and fuller grew the burst of melody as one glad strain fell upon

another in joyful harmony:

"Carol, brothers, carol, Carol joyfully, Carol the good tidings, Carol

merrily! And pray a gladsome Christmas For all your fellow-men; Carol,

brothers, carol, Christmas Day again."

One verse followed another always with the same glad refrain:

"And pray a gladsome Christmas For all your fellow-men: Carol,

brothers, carol, Christmas Day again."

Mrs. Bird thought, as the music floated in upon her gentle sleep, that

she had slipped into heaven with her new baby, and that the angels were

bidding them welcome. But the tiny bundle by her side stirred a little, and

though it was scarcely more than the ruffling of a feather, she awoke; for

the mother-ear is so close to the heart that it can hear the faintest whisper

of a child. She opened her eyes and drew the baby closer. It looked like a

rose dipped in milk, she thought, this pink and white blossom of girlhood,

THE BIRDS' CHRISTMAS CAROL

or like a pink cherub, with its halo of pale yellow hair, finer than floss silk.

"Carol, brothers, carol, Carol joyfully, Carol the good tidings, Carol

merrily!"

The voices were brimming over with joy. "Why, my baby," whispered

Mrs. Bird in soft surprise, "I had forgotten what day it was. You are a little

Christmas child, and we will name you 'Carol'--mother's little Christmas

Carol!"

"What!" said Mr. Bird, coming in softly and closing the door behind

him. "Why, Donald, don't you think 'Carol' is a sweet name for a

Christmas baby? It came to me just a moment ago in the singing as I was

lying here half asleep and half awake." "I think it is a charming name, dear

heart, and that it sounds just like you, and I hope that, being a girl, this

baby has some chance of being as lovely as her mother," at which speech

from the baby's papa, Mrs. Bird, though she was as weak and tired as she

could be, blushed with happiness. And so Carol came by her name. Of

course, it was thought foolish by many people, though Uncle Jack

declared laughingly that it was very strange if a whole family of Birds

could not be indulged in a single Carol; and Grandma, who adored the

child, thought the name much more appropriate than Lucy, but was glad

that people would probably think it short for Caroline. Perhaps because

she was born in holiday time, Carol was a very happy baby. Of course, she

was too tiny to understand the joy of Christmas-tide, but people say there

is everything in a good beginning, and she may have breathed-in

unconsciously the fragrance of evergreens and holiday dinners; while the

peals of sleigh-bells and the laughter of happy children may have fallen

upon her baby ears and wakened in them a glad surprise at the merry

world she had come to live in. Her cheeks and lips were as red as holly

berries; her hair was for all the world the color of a Christmas candle-

flame; her eyes were bright as stars; her laugh like a chime of Christmas

bells, and her tiny hands forever outstretched in giving. Such a generous

little creature you never saw! A spoonful of bread and milk had always to

be taken by Mama or nurse before Carol could enjoy her supper; and

whatever bit of cake or sweetmeat found its way into her pretty fingers, it

was straightway broken in half and shared with Donald, Paul or Hugh; and,

THE BIRDS' CHRISTMAS CAROL

when they made believe nibble the morsel with affected enjoyment, she

would clap her hands and crow with delight. "Why does she do it?" asked

Donald, thoughtfully; "None of us boys ever did." "I hardly know," said

Mama, catching her darling to her heart, "except that she is a little

Christmas child, and so she has a tiny share of the blessedest birthday the

world ever saw!"

THE BIRDS' CHRISTMAS CAROL

II. DROOPING WINGS.

It was December, ten years later. Carol had seen nine Christmas trees

lighted on her birthdays, one after another; nine times she had assisted in

the holiday festivities of the household, though in her babyhood her share

of the gayeties was somewhat limited. For five years, certainly, she had

hidden presents for Mama and Papa in their own bureau drawers, and

harbored a number of secrets sufficiently large to burst a baby's brain, had

it not been for the relief gained by whispering them all to Mama, at night,

when she was in her crib, a proceeding which did not in the least lessen

the value of a secret in her innocent mind. For five years she had heard

"'Twas the night before Christmas," and hung up a scarlet stocking many

sizes too large for her, and pinned a sprig of holly on her little white night

gown, to show Santa Claus that she was a "truly" Christmas child, and

dreamed of fur-coated saints and toy-packs and reindeer, and wished

everybody a "Merry Christmas" before it was light in the morning, and

lent every one of her new toys to the neighbors' children before noon, and

eaten turkey and plum pudding, and gone to bed at night in a trance of

happiness at the day's pleasures. Donald was away at college now. Paul

and Hugh were great manly fellows, taller than their mother. Papa Bird

had grey hairs in his whiskers; and Grandma, God bless her, had been four

Christmases in heaven. But Christmas in the Birds' Nest was scarcely as

merry now as it used to be in the bygone years, for the little child that once

brought such an added blessing to the day, lay, month after month, a

patient, helpless invalid, in the room where she was born. She had never

been very strong in body, and it was with a pang of terror her mother and

father noticed, soon after she was five years old, that she began to limp,

ever so slightly; to complain too often of weariness, and to nestle close to

her mother, saying she "would rather not go out to play, please." The

illness was slight at first, and hope was always stirring in Mrs. Bird's heart.

"Carol would feel stronger in the summer-time;" or, "She would be better

when she had spent a year in the country;" or, "She would outgrow it;" or,

"They would try a new physician;" but by and by it came to be all too sure

THE BIRDS' CHRISTMAS CAROL

that no physician save One could make Carol strong again, and that no

"summer-time" nor "country air," unless it were the everlasting summer-

time in a heavenly country, could bring back the little girl to health. The

cheeks and lips that were once as red as holly-berries faded to faint pink;

the star-like eyes grew softer, for they often gleamed through tears; and

the gay child-laugh, that had been like a chime of Christmas bells, gave

place to a smile so lovely, so touching, so tender and patient, that it filled

every corner of the house with a gentle radiance that might have come

from the face of the Christ-child himself. Love could do nothing; and

when we have said that we have said all, for it is stronger than anything

else in the whole wide world. Mr. and Mrs. Bird were talking it over one

evening when all the children were asleep. A famous physician had visited

them that day, and told them that sometime, it might be in one year, it

might be in more, Carol would slip quietly off into heaven, whence she

came. "Dear heart," said Mr. Bird, pacing up and down the library floor,

"it is no use to shut our eyes to it any longer; Carol will never be well

again. It almost seems as if I could not bear it when I think of that loveliest

child doomed to lie there day after day, and, what is still more, to suffer

pain that we are helpless to keep away from her. Merry Christmas, indeed;

it gets to be the saddest day in the year to me!" and poor Mr. Bird sank

into a chair by the table, and buried his face in his hands, to keep his wife

from seeing the tears that would come in spite of all his efforts. "But,

Donald, dear," said sweet Mrs. Bird, with trembling voice, "Christmas day

may not be so merry with us as it used, but it is very happy, and that is

better, and very blessed, and that is better yet. I suffer chiefly for Carol's

sake, but I have almost given up being sorrowful for my own. I am too

happy in the child, and I see too clearly what she has done for us and for

our boys." "That's true, bless her sweet heart," said Mr. Bird; "she has

been better than a daily sermon in the house ever since she was born, and

especially since she was taken ill." "Yes, Donald and Paul and Hugh were

three strong, willful, boisterous boys, but you seldom see such tenderness,

devotion, thought for others and self-denial in lads of their years. A quarrel

or a hot word is almost unknown in this house. Why? Carol would hear it,

and it would distress her, she is so full of love and goodness. The boys

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THEBIRDS'CHRISTMASCAROL1THEBIRDS'CHRISTMASCAROLBYKATEDOUGLASWIGGINToTheThreeDearestChildrenintheWorld,BERTHA,LUCY,ANDHORATIO."Olittleones,yecannotknowThepowerwithwhichyeplead,Norwhy,asonthroughlifewego,Thelittlechilddothlead."THEBIRDS'CHRISTMASCAROL2I.ALITTLESNOWBIRD.ItwasveryearlyChristmasmorning,a...

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