On this very last night of the year, I wish to talk to you about a little boy whose name was Sammy. It was Christmas Eve, you know, and he had been telling his mother what he wanted for Christmas—a sure sign that he had discovered the secret at last. Mrs. Brown was lying back very pale and quiet in her old easy-chair. She looked so very unlike herself that Mr. Brown turned round with a look of surprise as he entered the room just before dinner, and he could not help saying:
“Why, mother, how pale you are tonight! You look as if you were not well, and as if you needed a glass of port wine.”
Mrs. Brown smiled faintly, but she could hardly say the words she meant to. Somehow she did not think it would be very kind to tell papa about it now, after Sammy had just told her what a nice Christmas he expected. So she was wishing very much that he had forgotten all about it for this once. But how was this? The little fellow did not ask for his presents himself. It was true he had told his mother before dinner everything she might say for him, but still it was not like his asking for them.
Presently though Sammy began to grow impatient. “Have not you got an answer yet, mother dear?” he asked.
“Not word,” said she.
“Do make haste. Be quick, be quick.”
“I can’t at all,” said she. “I see Rev. H. at the door now, and I am afraid he will think we have forgotten all about him.”
Sammy had just the least want of patience possible, and it did cross his mind for a moment, would it not be nice to give Christmas presents to others instead of asking for them. So it would, so it would but he thought everybody else had forgotten all about it. Just at this time Mr. and Miss Platitude came in; otherwise Mrs. Smith would have come off by one of the early trains so as to have dined with them. Presently came tea, and after tea Sammy said:
“And mayn’t I have my supper now, mother, now that we have everybody?”
He did not ask for tea himself, because he was quite sure that would be decidedly snubbed. Everybody was quite in favor of supper, however, so Mrs. Brown rang the bell, but nobody answered it. This was really quite dreadful, and after all, as she said herself, she had been rather repeated than otherwise by Miss Platitude. After a shout or two from Sammy outside the door, however, who could not help contrasting the present state of things with the position of things in the days before the awful dry-up, Mrs. Brown threw herself into the breach, and went forth herself to bring in supper. However, as a fit punishment for the family neglect of it, nobody could eat a morsel of it. So they made hasty preparations for capsizing early to bed, all with the good resolutions of wherever possible avoiding snubbing the Christmas wish about luncheons and dinners and things.