Christmas stories; Dickens, Charles, 1812-1870. Christmas carol -- Fiction; New York (N.Y.) -- Fiction
Lonely, incomplete lives they led, with no bitterness in their souls,
loving each other the more as they tried to fill the void with songs of
resignation. Away back in the early days Mr. Bingle had said that
Christmas was a bleak thing without children to lift the pall--or
something of the sort.
Out of that well-worn conclusion--oft expressed by rich and poor
alike--grew the Bingle Foundation, so to speak. No Christmas Eve was
allowed to go by without the presence of alien offspring about their
fire-lit hearth, and no strange little kiddie ever left for his own bed
without treasuring in his soul the belief that he had seen Santa Claus
at last--had been kissed by him, too--albeit the plain-faced, wistful
little man with the funny bald-spot was in no sense up to the
preconceived opinions of what the roly--poly, white-whiskered,
red-cheeked annual visitor from Lapland ought to be in order to make
dreams come true.
The Bingles were singularly nephewless, nieceless, cousinless. There
was no kindly-disposed relative to whom they could look for the loan of
a few children on Christmas Eve, nor would their own sensitiveness
permit them to approach neighbours or friends in the building with a
well-meant request that might have met with a chilly rebuff. One really
cannot go about borrowing children from people on the floor below and
the floor above, especially on Christmas Eve when children are so much
in demand, even in the most fortunate of families. It is quite a
different matter at any other time of the year. One can always borrow a
whole family of children when the mother happens to feel the call of
the matinee or the woman's club, and it is not an uncommon thing to
secure them for a whole day in mid-December. But on Christmas Eve,
never! And so Mr. and Mrs. Bingle, being without the natural comforts
of home, were obliged to go out into the world searching for children
who had an even greater grudge against circumstances. They frequently
found their guests of honour in places where dishonour had left them,
and they gave them a merry Christmas with no questions asked.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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