The Birds' Christmas CarolWiggin, Kate Douglas Smith
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The Birds' Christmas Carol
Wiggin, Kate Douglas Smith
Children's stories; Christmas stories; Terminally ill children -- Juvenile fiction
There was a great bustle behind a huge screen in another part of the
room, and at half past five this was taken away, and the Christmas
dinner-table stood revealed. What a wonderful sight it was to the poor
little Ruggles children, who ate their sometimes scanty meals on the
kitchen table! It blazed with tall colored candles, it gleamed with
glass and silver, it blushed with flowers, it groaned with good things
to eat; so it was not strange that the Ruggleses, forgetting altogether
that their mother was a McGrill, shrieked in admiration of the fairy
spectacle. But Larry's behavior was the most disgraceful, for he stood
not upon the order of his going, but went at once for a high chair that
pointed unmistakably to him, climbed up like a squirrel, gave a
comprehensive look at the turkey, clapped his hands in ecstasy, rested
his fat arms on the table, and cried with joy, "I beat the hull lot o'
yer!" Carol laughed until she cried, giving orders, meanwhile,--"Uncle
Jack, please sit at the head, Sarah Maud at the foot, and that will
leave four on each side; Mamma is going to help Elfrida, so that the
children need not look after each other, but just have a good time."
A sprig of holly lay by each plate, and nothing would do but each little
Ruggles must leave his seat and have it pinned on by Carol, and as each
course was served, one of them pleaded to take something to her. There
was hurrying to and fro, I can assure you, for it is quite a difficult
matter to serve a Christmas dinner on the third floor of a great city
house; but if it had been necessary to carry every dish up a rope ladder
the servants would gladly have done so. There were turkey and chicken,
with delicious gravy and stuffing, and there were half a dozen
vegetables, with cranberry jelly, and celery, and pickles; and as for
the way these delicacies were served, the Ruggleses never forgot it as
long as they lived.
Peter nudged Kitty, who sat next him, and said, "Look, will yer, ev'ry
feller's got his own partic'lar butter; I s'pose that's to show you can
eat that 'n' no more. No, it ain't either, for that pig of a Peory's
just gettin' another helpin'!"
"Yes," whispered Kitty, "an' the napkins is marked with big red letters!
I wonder if that's so nobody'll nip 'em; an' oh, Peter, look at the
pictures stickin' right on ter the dishes! Did yee ever?"
"The plums is all took out o' my cramb'ry sarse an' it's friz to a stiff
jell'!" whispered Peoria, in wild excitement.
"Hi--yah! I got a wish-bone!" sang Larry, regardless of Sarah Maud's
frown; after which she asked to have his seat changed, giving as excuse
that he "gen'ally set beside her, an' would feel strange;" the true
reason being that she desired to kick him gently, under the table,
whenever he passed what might be termed "the McGrill line."
"I declare to goodness," murmured Susan, on the other side, "there's so
much to look at I can't scarcely eat nothin'!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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