The Man in Lonely Land Part 8

Guilty gladness at being alone, at getting off by herself and going where she chose, so possessed her the next day that as Claudia pa.s.sed Mrs. Warrick's sitting-room she tip-toed lest she be called in and a moment of her precious freedom be lost. Several hours of daylight were still left, but there was much to be done; and hurriedly she went down the steps, hurriedly walked to the avenue, and caught the 'bus she saw coming with a sigh of thankfulness. In the center of the shopping district she got out and disappeared soon after in one of the stores. It was her only chance for the simple purchases to be made for the slim purses of her country friends; and as she read first one list and then the other she smiled at the variety of human desires and the diversities of human needs, and quickly made decisions. A letter received just before leaving the house had not been read, but its writing was recognized, and going to the door she tried to make out the scrawly contents and get, at the same time, the breath of fresh air brought in by its opening as hurrying customers came and went. To read there was impossible, however. Darkness had fallen; and, going outside for a moment, she looked up and down at the surging, pus.h.i.+ng, s.h.i.+vering crowd and wondered as to the time.

She was not through, and she must finish before going back.

"Is Madame Santa Claus ready to go home?"

Startled, she looked up. "Oh, Mr. Laine, I'm so glad! Indeed I'm not through, and it's dark already. Do you think Hope will mind if I don't get back for tea?"

"I think not." He smiled in the troubled face. "What is left to be done?"

"This among other things." Together they moved slowly down the crowded street, and she held the letter in her hand toward him.

"It's from Mrs. Prosser, who has eleven children and a husband who is their father and that's all. They live on faith and the neighbors, but she has sold a pig and sent me part of the money with which to buy everybody in the family a Christmas present. That's all I've made out."

Laine took the sheets of paper torn from a blank-book and looked at them under an electric light. "This Syro-Phoenician writing needs what it can't get out here," he said, after a half-minute's pause.

"A cipher requires a code, and a code means sitting down. Aren't you cold? You are. Come over here and we'll have some tea and work it out together." And before protest could be made they were in a hotel across the street and at a table on which a shaded light permitted a closer examination of the penciled scrawl which went for writing.

Slowly he read aloud:

"DERE Miss CLAUDIA,--The chillern is near bout set me crazy sence I tole 'em I was agoin' to ask you to do me some favors which is to buy for me some New York krismus presents. I have sole the pig and I am a-puttin' in this six dollars and sixteen cents, I would have sent seven dollars even but the baby had the colic so bad I had to git some more of that pain-killer which I give the hoss onct, and Johnnie lost the change comin' home from the store. The baby is well, but the hoss ain't. The followin' is what I would like to have. Ifen you can't git the things, git what you can. I have confidence in your jedgment.

"2 pare sox and a maresharm pipe for the old man. Don't spend more than fifty cents on him. He drunk up the whiskey your ma give me for the mincemeat for Thanksgivin' and I had to lock him up in the garret. He'd like the pipe yaller.

"1 A blew skarf pin--Johnnie.

"2 A bracelet. Bras will do if you can't git gold. Minnie is the meekest and don't look for much but she wants a bracelet awful bad.

"3 A box of paper and envellopes for Maizzie--Maizzie's got a bow.

He lives in the next county. I don't let the chillern say nothin'.

I'm 'fraid they'll scare the ducks.

"4 A wax doll in pink tarlton for Rosy. She won't be here next krismus. The doctor done tole me, and my hart it have been hurtin'

so ever since that I have to hide every now and then so as to git my breath good. Sometimes I can't help chokin', I can't. She seen a doll in pink tarlton onct and the other night I heard her talkin' up the chimney and she was askin' Santa Claus to bring her one if he could spare it. Ifen you can't git all the things with the pig money, please'm git the doll, and in pink, please'm, and let the others go."

Laine took up his cup of tea and drank it slowly. "Part of this is hard to make out," he said, after a moment. "I can't see it very well."

"All of it is hard." Claudia put a piece of cracker in her mouth.

"But it's a wonder she can write at all. The boys are as trifling as their father, and she does the work of five people. Is that all?"

Laine began again. "Becky say she don't want nothin' but a pare of silk stockings. She's crazy, but she seen the summer girls with 'em and I don't reckon it will do no harm if we ain't pracktical at krismus. It do seem like krismus ain't for prackticals. 40 cents is her share.

"Sam he wants a harmonic.u.m, and Bobbie he just set his hart on a sled. I don't reckon you can get that in your trunk, and ifen you can't a necktie will have to do. The other chillern is so small it don't make no difference what you get for them, any little thing you can pick up will please 'em. They is all so excited about havin'

presents from New York that they's plum crazy. I don't know what the county would do without you, Miss Claudia. You is everybody's friend and everybody is--"

Claudia put out her hand. "Oh, that part doesn't matter. I'll take it now. We'll have to go. Are you ready?"

"Not quite." Laine, who had finished the letter, handed it to her, then took out a note-book and pencil. "Are you sure you can remember the things? Hadn't I better write them down?"

Claudia shook her head. "Not a bit of use. These are the last to get, and then I'm through. Are you?"

"Am I what?"

"Through."

"Through what?"

"With your Christmas things. I don't suppose men have as much to do as women and don't have to begin so early. Some people don't love Christmas. It's such a pity."

"It's a pity the old Christmas has given way to the new one. With many it's a sort of hold-up. I don't believe in it."

Claudia's arms were folded on the table, and her eyes were gravely looking into his. "What kind do you believe in?"

Into Laine's face the color crept slowly, then he laughed. "I really don't know. I only know the present kind is wrong."

"You know a great many things that are wrong, don't you?"

"I'm afraid I do." With his handkerchief Laine wiped his gla.s.ses, put them back, and again tapped the table. "That is, I know a great many things that aren't nice to know."

"Most of us do. It isn't difficult to see what isn't nice in people or things." She got up. "I'm sorry you don't love Christmas."

"Why should I love it? For the men at the office there are checks; for my brother's widow and children are other checks; for Hope, another. A man makes a mess of buying presents. Cigars for men and flowers for women are the two orders telephoned in advance for the few so remembered. The employees at the clubs, the servants at the house, the--the a.s.sociations which do things merely mean more money, and money--"

"I think I should hate Christmas, too, if it merely meant the writing of checks or the giving of gold. I wouldn't want a million if there was no love with it." Eyes on her m.u.f.f, she smoothed it softly.

"That is what Christmas is for. To take time to remember, and to let people know we do care--and to make somebody glad. Let me see." On her fingers she enumerated the things desired by Mrs. Prosser.

"Harmonic.u.m, silk stockings, socks, yellow pipe, blue scarf-pin, bracelet (bra.s.s or gold), box of paper, sled, and--"

"A doll in pink tarleton." Again in Laine's face the color crept slowly. He hesitated. "In all my life I never bought a doll or a sled or anything except books for children. May I go with you? And would--would you mind if I got that doll?"

XII

CHRISTMAS SHOPPING

Five minutes later Laine and Claudia were caught in the crowd of Christmas shoppers and valiantly made their way to a counter on which were objects gay and glittering. With a seriousness and persistency that was comic to the girl watching him, Laine began with the blue scarf-pin and the bracelet, but not until he was giving an order did she touch him on the arm and draw him aside.

"We can't get those, Mr. Laine, indeed we can't." She nodded in the direction of the counter. "There aren't but six dollars and sixteen cents of the pig money, and a dozen things to buy yet."

"Oh, blow the pig money! She won't know the difference. That pin is only one dollar and ninety-eight cents and the bracelet two dollars and forty-eight cents. Nothing could be worse than that, could it?"

"It could. Johnnie is a lazy good-for-nothing, and twenty-five cents is all his pin is to cost. It will be big and blue, but not a penny over twenty-five can be spent on it. I think we'd better get the doll and the silk stockings and the sled first. I've already bought a doll for Rosy, but it's in white, and we'll have to get the pink one."

"And is the pig money going to do all that?" Laine's eyes were searching Claudia's.

"It is." She laughed and turned away as if to see some one who was pa.s.sing. "It doesn't matter whose pig."

"Then I'll play the pig to-night! I've played it the wrong way often enough. Why can't we be sensible? I've got a spending jag on, and I've never been Christmas shopping before. Something is happening to my backbone, something that used to happen in the days when I hung up my stocking. Please be good and let me have a little Christmas!"

Claudia's forehead wrinkled and for a moment she hesitated, then again her eyes sought his doubtfully. "I don't know whether I ought to. You are very kind, but--"