Democratic Sentinel, Volume 4, Number 45, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 17 December 1880 — A Christmas Tableau Vivant. [ARTICLE]

A Christmas Tableau Vivant.

BY WILLIAM H. BUSHNELL.

“Jerusalem!” It was a favorite expletive of good Deacon Parks when excitement got the better of his usual placid wav, and his wife looked up in astonishment as he came stamping into the house, slammed tlie door after him and stirred up the lire until the hickory blazed and roared like an incipient volcano. “Gracious! What is the matter now, Job?” she exclaimed, pausing in her baking operations, wiping the flour from her hands upon her huge apron and lowering her glasses from her forehead to her nose to obtain a better look at her husband and satisfy herself that he had not suddenly lost his w its. “Why, day after to-morrow is Christmas!'’ “As if I didn't know that! Haven't I l»ecu making preparations for it f. r more than a week ? Catch me without mince-pit's and fried cakes and cranberry jelly and a great, bouncing turkey.* and stiv smiicd eomptan-vutiy at the thought of 'the g. * *.i things already prepared. "And I never thought of it until just cow—'avu so busy, you know. Le k-gii' d, sn- if in reality Le Lad been jri-ity cf s'Ue great crime. * Welh if don': matter. Job: and I ~“i:» ih Ur _ h£t Hannah. The ' ■’* —x: qnesiim-ed a merry XimugL winn ms n.infest iaee flushed with nn.. Lis lifts qtuvenng with emotion i 13 tut dnngbtor was indeed as the apj.de of ms tyt ana the one ti.ing upon earth altjgt-tiier lovely. “My detu. precious iamb," whispered the loud mother, through tears of itajipiliess, as with busy fingers she removed the jaunty little cup, furs, cloak and gloves, “to think you have come safely back to me once more and—" “Now,” inteirupted the girl, “I bhould like to know what father was talking about when I came in.” “Bo unexpected,” said the mother. “We did not look for you until to-mor-row night.’’ “Oh, 1 had a chance to ride home,” replied the. girl, .blushing, “and got permission to let out school. Hut vou were talking about me, father?” “Well, yes,’ he answered,With a merry twinkle in his eyes, “and I was about to say when you came rushing in like a young bear—about to say, though mind, l didn’t—that if you kept ou teaching other people's brats you wouldn’t have strength to teach your own—when you get them,” and he laughed loudly at the changed expression of her face. “l v or shame,” responded Minerva. “But I’ll pay you for that, father. Remember, I am a young lady now, and you can’t joke with me with impunity, as you once did.” “A young lady? Whew! Audi suppose some young gentleman put himself to immense trouble to bring you home through the cold and storm and didn’t forget to collect toll at all the bridges. Aren’t your lips 'sore, daughter?”

The girl colored still more deeply, aud hustled around to help her mother set the table for dinner, that she might escape the teasing; hut her father enjoyed it too much, and asked: “Who was it, child? Some of them scape-grace clerks from Beaverton, I’ll he bound.” “You know I never associate with them,” she responded indignantly, “Mr. Frank Emmons brought me home.” “O—li?” with a low whistle. “Yes, he is a nice and proper young man, and has such pretty black hair and eyes, and teeth and moustache, and such white hands, and sings like half a dozen angels and walks so gently,” and the old gentleman arose and strutted mincingly around the room in burlesque imitation of the attendant of his daughter. Minerva could not but laugh, yet pretending to take no notice, glided about anauging the dishes, aud her mother asked where the young man was. “I know,” said her father, answering the question for her. “Our daughter has rolled him up in pink cotton and sprinkled him with cologne and put him in a bnudbox for fear he will get mussed. ” “He will be here Christmas Eve,” interrupted Minerva, with a strong effort at sobriety; “he and a number of others. I knew you would not care, father, if I invited them.” “ Not I,” answered the old man heart ily, and taking the curly head between his broad palms he drew her tenderly to him and kissed the rosy and dimpled cheeks. “ You are truly our one lamb, and everything will some day be yours. Yes, you did perfectly right, and it will be pleasant to have the house filled with young folks and have a rousing, merry time. That is how Christmas ought to be kept.” “We are going to have tableaux viva nix, and one of them will surprise you, father.” He was that already, and had about as much conception of what was intended as of the lucid (?) explanations of Herbert Spencer of the Darwinian theory, and for him to have repeated the words with the French accent given by his child would have been an utter impossibility, so he pretended knowledge, shook his head sagely, gave a very knowing wink, but kept silent and soon found that pressing business required his absence. But the doting mother was taken into full confidence and she and Minerva had a long, earnest and apparently deeply interesting conversation upon the sub-ject-one that continued for over an hour; indeed it hail not concluded when the old man returned, for he caught the name of the minister and asked: “What are yon going to have Domine Martin here for, child?” “Oh, just because I like him, and his Trife is such a dear old lady, and they

will be very lonely on such a day, with their children all married and away from home. So I thought you would like to see them, and if he is here everything will be sure to go right, and it is Christinas, you know, and—” “Hold on, for mercy’s sake! exclaimed her father, “or you won’t have breath enough left to eat your dinner, and that would be very bad.” “ But you wanted to know, and—- “ You have told me sufficient to satisfy any reasonable mortal man,” he said a* he took his place at the table and began loading her plate as if she had been in danger of starvation for a month. Dinner over—it was one of the substantial, old-fashioned kind, though the mother had added the richest of dessert delicacies to tempt her child, as if there was no such thing as dyspepsia in the land—and the Deacon took an easy chair by tlie broad health, lighted his pipe, and between the culling clouds of smoke resumed the subject of the morning conversation. “How many are yon going to have, daughter?” he questioned. “ All the boys and girls.” “Boys first, every tithe with your sex, and girls with the other,” he laughed, “but all means how many?” “Well (reflectively,) from fifty to sev-enty-five.” “Gracious! the old house will scarcely hold them, and will be certain to be torn down with their romping. But what does mother say?” i i“Oh, she is perfectly satisfied, aren’t you mother, dear ?” and a look of understanding passed between parent and daughter. “Then all I have to do is to help the riot along, for riot it will be with so many voungsters together. But wliat was it you said you were going to have?” “A tub’lo vevang,” was answered with the broadest possible French accentation. “Ah, yes, I remember, and no doubt it will be grand.” “I think you will find it solemn, father.” “Yes, yes,” and fearful she should see how much he was puzzled, be instantly changed the subject and continued: “Well, it will take a lot to feed so many boys and girls. They are always hungry, and can devour more than so many wolves. So, Hannah, I fear you haven’t provided one quarter enough. ” “You are right,” responded his wife; "since our pet told me about her plans and how many would be here I have been calculating.” "Well, they shan't go away hungry, if there is enough in the land to feed them. I'll have Mike kindle a fire under the big farm kettle, and kill lots of chickens and turkeys, and send him for Mrs. Smith to help dress them, and when I go over to town to-morrow I'll bring home seme ovsters and—well, any thing else you need to have a good time.” "Oh! ,how- much I thank you, dear father,''said Minerva, impulsively springing to his side and kissing him. “You are the kindest and best father in all the world. ”

"All talk,” he laughed, though rare pie..sure was visible in his face, »“and you'll get married some day and forget "all about me.” “Married!” exclaimed the girl, suddenly growing ashy pale. “Never! I mean." she continued, with her face flushing to the deej>est crimson, “I mean that I'll never forget'you. ” “Whew,” he whistled, “I never saw the wind chop around more suddenly. Catch a girl saying she'll never get married! They would as soon think of not l>eing handsome and having pretty dresses. But ycu needn't blush so. It's all right and proper, and the natural condition of womankind.” “Then,” asked sLe, archly an coquetishly standing before him with one little finger thrust between her red lips in mock modesty and bashfulness. ‘ ‘You wouldn’t object to my getting married?” “No, not to a good, honest, industrious man. Why should I? A human heart, and especially of your sex, without love, is as good as wrecked. No, my. darling; find a good man whom you can love with your whole heart, and who loves you the same, for I am old-fashioned enough to lielieve in such things, and I'll not only give my consent but my blessing, something worth havingfor a start in life, and such a w edding as will make the old rafters ring.” “And suppose, father,” questioned the blooming girl, half way between smiles and tears, “suppose it should happen to be Frank—Mr. Emmons, I mean?’ 1 “Humph! I don’t know. He is—” “Just as nice a young fellow as ever lived.” interposed bis wife. “Yes, yes. I can’t say alight against him, but—“l know,” laughed Minerva at his confusion, “when you really come to think of giving me up it is too much. That’s it.” “I believe you are right, child. But I must go and see about an extra supply of provisions. Gracious! it will be fortunate if we don’t have a famine.”

He wiped away the mist from liis old eyes, brought there by the thought his daughter had suggested; tried to whistle bravely down the very situation he hail with the touch of rugged eloquence defended, and hastened to call his man-of-all-work and give him instructions. “Minerva has come back, Mike,” he said “and is going to have some a blow-out on Christmas Eve. Hhe calls it a tabler vevaught, or something of the kind. “Afwliat?” questioned the Irishman, scratching his head in the most puzzled manner. “That’s what sticks me, Mike, though I did not let her know it. Anyhow there is to be some kind of a female circus, and the animals will want plenty to eat. ” “Blessings on the bright eyes of her, and its ivrything on the old farm I’ll kill if she wants it, the thirlin'. ” “Yes, I believe you. That girl seems to have a faculty of twisting every one around her finger, and—” ‘ ‘Divil a won more thin her ould fayther,” said Mike as he proceeded to obey the orders he had received, “an’ muther lashius of poultry,” well knowing that his share of the feast would be no stinted one. To a late hour the making ready was continued, aud all went to bed tired but happy. And the next day was a continual bustle. Extra help was summoned, and the kitchen fires roared, and the immense Dutch oven glowed and plenty ruled triumphant, while the old deacon was in his glory bringing supplies from town and making himself useful as well as most provokingly officious. So the day passed and the night came with everything ready for the grand time. Early the house began to be filled with a merry company, and were welcomed by father, mother and daughter, the latter resplendant in robes of fleecy white, abundantly trimmed with soft, floating laces and looped with artificial flowers, while natural roses, fringed with myrtle and smilax. were half hidden amid her golden hair and pulsated upon her joyously throbbing bosom. For an hour there appeared to be a ceaseless chiming of sleigh-bells, and rosy, laughing. loads deposited at the door. Indeed, so many were the teams that Mike was frantic to know what to do with them. But the Deacon believed in “the more the merrier” principle, and kept every one busy and contented. Yet for all the gaily dancing and singing company, a shade of perplexity now and then crossed his face. He had not solved the mystery of the tableau, and it hung upon him as a troublesome nightmare. For hours the house rang and trembled upon its strong foundation. It was a veritable bee-hive of fun and frolic, aud many a soft cheek took on deeper roses from stolen kisses; many an innocent heart bounded more swiftly from the encircling arm and many a pair of ears

tingled from the slapping of white hands in payment for saucy jest or pilfered caress. But good, buxom dame Hannah had almost aa much pride in her cooking as in her one dear lamb, and when the ancient clock made its huge, heavy, coffin-like case throb with the ringing of ten, she whispered to her husband, good, prudent soul that she was, that “the children must be getting hungry, and she was going to see about the tables.” In response to her suggestion, he sought their daughter and told her they were going to have supper, and that the young folks had better stop romping and cool off, or some of them would be certain to take their death. “Yes, father,” she answered; “but we must have the tableau first,” and she looked up, blushing more deeply than a damask rose in June into the face of Mr. Frank Emmons, upon whose arm she happened to be leaning, “All right,” responded the old man with a sigh of relief, for the burden would soon be lifted from his soul. “Do you want me to help you ?” “No; but tell mother, please, I want her.” And Miss Minerva darted away to her own private room, while the old man told the fiddlers to adjourn to the kitchen and make themselves comfortable until wanted again. Evidently some of the girls understood wliat was going on, if the Deacon did not, for they cleared one end of the hall, hung a great patch-work bed-quilt across and marshalled the company into something like order. Then, after a brief pause, in which there was much whispering, the improvised curtain was drawn aside and disclosed Miss Minerva standing hand in hand with Mr. Frank Emmons, with a young lady and gentleman as supporters, and the old minister before them.

Amazed, but silent, the Deacon looked on. He did not comprehend the affair at all, had no practical knowledge of charades, but when certain words had been spoken and a ring passed, a sudden light broke in upon the darkness of his understanding, and he exclaimed with an earnestness that startled all: “Je-ru-sa-lem ! It looks like a marriage!” The hearty laugh that followed sufficed for a full explanation and it needed not the assurance of the minister to convince him that his daughter was honestly and legally married to the man of her choice. And yet at first he was disposed to be angry. Then he saw the foolishness of such a proceeding, especially as lie had previously given liis assent to the selection of his daughter, and entered heartily into the laugh against himself. ! “That’s what you call a—Jerusalem! I can’t speak the new fangled name—is it? • Yet it wasn't hardly fair to fool the old man so, Minerva. I did expect you would find something in your stockings to-night, child, but not a great, live man. However it is all right .(anything she could have done would have been so) and we ll make the best of it, and your mother and I will have plenty to do in getting things ready to till the little stockings that—” A soft white hand stopped his words, red and ripe lips were pressed upon his own, a silken face was laid upon his wrinkled one, a few tears of happiness were rained down upon his broad .breast, and with faltering tongue the old man called the young husband to his side, gave him the hand of his darling, and said, “Take her and may God bless you both, my children. If I have lost a daughter I have found a son and shall have another arm to lean upon when my eyes grow dim and steps unsteady • More he would have said but a great ringing of bells summoned them to supper—and such a supper. It would have made grim Famine commit suicide iu despair to have looked upon the tables, and Time throw away his hour-glass and sit blythely down and enjoyed the feast. The good mother had known the secret from the first, and with her pride stimulated had distanced all former efforts, even to produce a Christmas supper, and the only complaint was of excessive fullness, when again tlie violins summoned the part}’ to the hall. A few more hours of such happiness as rarely comes to earth and the old house became silent. The company had departed, but not before the Deacon had invited all to be present that day year, whispering at the same time something in the car of his daughter that sent the blood bounding to her cheeks and caused her to turn suddenly and shamefaced away. Was he right? Come with me this joyous, blessed day. You will be welcomed right royally. Come and assist in the festivities and taste to repletion of the good cheer, and when the briglit-eyed babe is christened, join with all in wishing to him, aye even so all upon earth, a happy, merry, bountiful Christmas. * k