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<h2><abbr title="Eighteen">XVIII</abbr> CHRISTMAS ANTICIPATIONS</h2> <h3>Monday.</h3> Already the air is full of Christmas talk and plans. Besides the great tree here in our school for the entire neighborhood, the workers and teachers expect to have seven or eight trees in other localities, thus bringing brightness and cheer and the Christmas story into many sad and colorless lives. I should have been glad to have a tree over on Trigger; but a gathering there in the present state of feeling would be extremely dangerous, and by Nucky's advice, I have abandoned the hope. "I'd like to have you come over," he said; "but Trigger haint no place for women or women's doings now." Another excitement is the telephone just set up in our village, connecting us with the railroad and the outside world.—All the boys went down this afternoon to see and hear the marvel. <h3>Wednesday Morning.</h3> I have begun teaching some of the beautiful old English carols to our boys and girls,—it seems peculiarly fitting that these children of pure English stock should sing the carols centuries ago upon the lips of their ancestors. But the task is an uphill one with the boys,—they refuse to take any interest in this or any other Christmas preparation. When I reproached them to-night for their apathy, Philip said, "Nothing here to take no interest in,—won't be no chance for no Christmas doings till we git away from here." "But there will be great Christmas doings," I said, "just the very best that can be thought of." "What,—you women aiming to lay in a store of liquor and do a lot of shooting?" he asked, with dawning hope. "Horrors, no!" I exclaimed. "Them's the good times I allus seed a-Christmas." "Me, too!" echoed the other eleven. "Didn't you ever hang up your stocking, or have a tree or get presents?" "Never heared tell of the like till I come here." "But it's the greatest possible fun," I insisted. "Fun enough for women, may be, but men,—gee!" "Gimme a big jug of moonshine!" shouted Joab. "And a galloping nag!" cried Nucky. "And a pistol in both hands!" added Killis. "Boys," I said, "is it possible you can be willing to spend the holy season of Christmas in drinking and shooting?" "Only way I ever heared of anybody spending it," said Philip; "everybody does it. If there's ary boy here," he added, "that haint been drunk, or tried to, every Christmas he can ricollect, hold up your hand!" Not a hand moved, till suddenly, as if by an afterthought, Killis's went up. "I weren't last Christmas," he said; "when paw got shot and lay a-dying, he told me never to drink another drap, and I haint toch it sence." "Mighty hard on you," remarked Joab; "I never pass a Christmas without being drunk,—paw he gen'ally fills me'n Iry up till we can't see single, and then makes us walk a crack in the floor, for fun." "I allus used to swill all I could hold, from New Christmas to Old Christmas," said Killis. "I drink all I want and then ride around on Blant's nag and shoot off my rifle," said Nucky. "When I were a five-year-old," contributed Geordie, "my uncles give me a pint of liquor, and then put a cocked pistol in my hand and p'inted it at Absalom, and told me to shoot. I fired away,—good thing I weren't sober, I'd a-kilt him sure!" "The neighbors up the branch they invites us to their house and treats us a-Christmas," said Hen; "but Keats he haint half a man,—I can drink twict as much as him!" "Self-brag is half-scandal," exclaimed Keats, angrily; "it's because I've had white swelling and typhoid I can't drink as much as you, you sorry little scald-pate!" "Paw and me got so drunk last Christmas we couldn't roll over in bed," piped up Jason. Taulbee, the great stickler for propriety, summed up the matter authoritatively: "Folks would think they was bad off if they couldn't pass around a jug of liquor a-Christmas," he said; "they would feel like it weren't showing hospitality." When I remember that this was the idea of the entire Christian world less than a century ago, I cannot be too severe upon my boys, distressing as these conditions are. Killis spoke again shortly. "I want every boy here that can get to my house on Clinch a-Christmas to come, and see a good time," he announced. "Come the Saturday after New Christmas. I can't drink myself, on account of what paw said; but I got good-and-plenty for my friends. And maw she'll give you all you can eat. And we'll shoot off all paw's guns and pistols." There was unanimous acceptance, even by boys living nearly forty miles distant from Killis, Nucky's being qualified by the condition, "If the Cheevers haint giving too much trouble at home." I sighed deeply. "Boys," I said, "you know what I think about drinking; you know I consider it very, very wrong." "Quare women has quare notions," remarked Joab, forbearingly. "You know I hope the day will come when not one of you will ever touch liquor," I said. "Is there one now who thinks enough of me to promise not to drink this Christmas?" The dead silence that followed was broken at last by Philip. "We like you all right," he said; "but, by grab, a fellow's got to see some fun!" It is rumored that Killis's uncles still carry on the business in which his father perished; so I suppose there will be no doubt about the "good-and-plenty" to drink at his house. <h3>Sunday, mid-December.</h3> Two birthdays this past week, Philip's thirteenth, Wednesday, and Nucky's twelfth yesterday, and the excitement of having gorgeous birthday cakes at our table, and passing around candles for birthday wishes. At bed-time last night, Hen came up from the wash-house looking extremely clean as to head and feet. When he was passing into the bedroom however, I called him back. "What is that dark band just below your nightgown?" I asked. He made no reply, but stooped so that his gown should fall lower. I lifted the hem to his knees, revealing the fact that the cleanness stopped half-way, and that above that line his legs were more than dingy. "Didn't you wash all over?" I inquired. "Not quite all." "How much did you wash?" "Down to my neck and very near up to my knees. That dag-gone ole gown done shrunk up two inches sence the last time." "But didn't I tell you you must wash all over every single bath?" "That was before cold weather sot in. Philip he said down to your neck and up to your knees was a-plenty in cold weather, and all he was aiming to do; and it's all any of us boys been a-doing sence November started in." "You haint never washed as far up as your knees, son," corrected Keats, from superior heights; "you allus stop where your nightgown comes to. I told you she'd ketch you if you done that!" Summoning all my family, I found the shocking fact to be true that for six weeks not one had bathed any farther than "down to my neck and up to my knees,"—they rather gloried in it, especially Philip, and complained bitterly when made to lose several days' play time, in addition to taking a complete bath instantly, every one, though it was already past bed-time. Truly my Thanksgiving pride in their beautiful manners and aristocratic appearance has received a severe shock! <hr /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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