“against the whiteness of the wall
be living verdure seen,—
sweet summer memories to recall,
and keep your christmas green.”
a
ll through the long hot summer months miss billy had been doing what she could for cherry street. now cherry street was doing what it could for miss billy.
"grass, is it, she'd be afther loikin' to see, whin she gits up?" said mr. hennesy. "sure an' we're ploughin' good sod undher iv'ry day av our lives,—loads av it. john thomas, see that ye bring home a wagon load of it 'ach noight, an' o'il be doin' the same."
john thomas brought the sod, and the street fell to with a will. dusk fell earlier-331- than in the summer, but there was still time left after the day's labour was over and the supper cleared away. the children dug and raked the hard soil, and the men rolled the velvety sod into strips of green parking bordering the sidewalks, and spread it into green lawns in their own dooryards. the enthusiasm spread like a fever. aaron levi's father brought home a can of paint, and began experimentally to turn his shabby brown house into a white house with green blinds. the street beheld, and hurried to do likewise, scarcely waiting for francis' assurance that every cent of expense should be taken off the rent. every house was freshly painted,—and because the underlying thought was of miss billy, and because they thought she would like it so, they painted uniformly white, with green blinds.
besides all this, down the middle of the street a score of men, day after day, threw up the rocky soil into long mounds, and at last the sewer pipe that was to connect with every dwelling, was laid, with all cherry street look-332-ing into the hole, as if it had been the dedication of a church. no more cesspools and typhoid fever for cherry street! it had been too near to losing miss billy. but mr. schultzsky would have made the concession for none other.
the street improvement club, cast at first into the depths of despair at their brave little captain's grave illness, and raised now to heights of enthusiasm by her convalescence, were everywhere! chewing gum wrappers were voted a nuisance: paper bags were frowned upon: banana skins were not to be tolerated: tomato cans were a crime! everywhere over the street presided a new goddess,—the goddess of cleanliness,—while the girl who had wrought the change lay in the little green room, being slowly nursed back to life.
it was after the improvement club, under the advice of francis, had taken the proceeds of the lawn social from the little tin box, and invested it in young shade trees, that proudly skirted the sidewalks twenty feet apart, that-333- francis snapped his final picture from the head of the street. after it was developed he compared it to that other taken on the august morning. the results appeared to satisfy him. "they are an object lesson," he said, "fit to point a moral or adorn a tale," and he mailed them in a big official looking envelope to "peter hanson, florist,—new york,—prize street competition."
it was this very day, too, that miss billy was placed in an easy chair, and taken to the window for the first time since her illness. "oh, it's such a green world, motherie mine; such a beautiful, sunny, green world, that it hurts my eyes. and—why—but everything wasn't all green like that when i went to bed. what can have happened!"
"that is enough for to-day," said the nurse authoritatively, and miss billy was put back to bed. but she had caught a glimpse of mr. schultzsky's house, and it was painted white!—of the little bohemian maid swinging placidly to and fro in the rocking chair on an immacu-334-late little white porch!—of a stretch of restful green grass, where before had been weeds!—and right in the middle of the front yard had bloomed a huge tub of scarlet geraniums! ("she will like to see that," francis had said,—and through the long beautiful fall which stretched into december, he had placed a covering over the flowers every night to protect them from possible frosts.) miss billy had seen, and two hectic spots of excitement burned on her cheeks.
"cherry street is remodelled, inside and out," said mrs. lee gently. "francis has made mr. schultzsky see the expense of it in the light of a sound business proposition, and the rest of it has been done by the people themselves, for love of you. but there, little daughter,—it's nothing to cry about!"
"i'm not crying," said miss billy valiantly, the big tears chasing each other down her cheeks. "don't you see that i'm laughing, and happy, and thankful? oh, it is so nice to come back to this dear, beautiful world!"
-335-
there were informal receptions held in the little green room as she grew daily stronger. marie jean, still with the trailing dresses, but with the heavy frizzes forever gone,—john thomas, freckled of face and worshipful, alert to miss billy's slightest wish,—mr. hennesy, brimful of cheer and whimsical philosophy,—mrs. hennesy, overflowing with kindness and neighbourly apologies,—mr. schultzsky, stoical, yet changed,—holly belle, who whispered with shy blushes that beside her finger exercises miss margaret had given her a "piece," with variations: and every day margaret and francis, and the members of the improvement club, who sat about and gazed at miss billy restored to them and were thankful.
it was the eighteenth of december when the first snow came sifting down. it covered the green lawns, and wrapped the young shade trees, and whitened the roofs of the little white houses. and not till then did cherry street remember that summer was gone and christmas was near.
-336-
"we'll have a christmas tree big enough for everybody," said theodore. "john thomas and i will go out and buy the largest we can find, and set it up in the parlour."
"oh, it will be fine," said margaret, clapping her hands. "let us get at it right away."
the christmas tree was brought, a noble fir,—and set up in the corner of the parlour amidst much bustle and confusion and laughter. john thomas popped the corn, miss billy threaded it in whitened strings, francis tacked up the evergreen boughs and holly, while beatrice assisted,—a pretty picture with the heavy foliage held high above her head, and her sleeves falling away from her white arms. margaret, in the kitchen, was aiding maggie in making the cherished christmas "pfeffernes," and as the little german cakes baked, the sweet spicy smell filled the air.
theodore, on a stepladder, was hanging the mistletoe. "it smells christmassy already," he announced hungrily. "why doesn't margaret make a bushel of those things? i could-337- eat all she has there at one bite. marie jean, just hand me up a bit of that red ribbon, will you?"
marie jean's long arm stretched up the ladder, and theodore leaned down. there was a resounding smack, and marie jean, with a scream of agitation, tripped over a rug and fell headlong into the arms of the christmas tree.
"land o' love!" she ejaculated, extricating herself from the branches. "theodore lee, i've a mind to slap you."
"the mistletoe hung in the castle hall,
the holly branch shone on the old oak wall,"
recited theodore, putting as much feeling as he could into it without swallowing the tacks in his mouth. "marie jean, i expect to slay my thousands under this thing. but if you'd like to slap me, you can come again and try it."
"no, thanks," said marie jean, settling her ruffled plumage with dignity.
"now," went on the irrepressible theodore, "if good kris kringle will only hang a-338- wig on the christmas tree for miss billy,—nothing expensive or rich, of course, like her own hair was—but——"
involuntarily miss billy's hands flew up to her shorn locks, but john thomas came sturdily to the defence.
"miss billy's a heap prettier with her hair short like that, and curling all over her head in little rings. she wasn't half so pretty when it was long."
"john thomas," said theodore, with a pitying stare, "it's my opinion that you would think miss billy handsome if she was as bald as a chinese mandarin. it's a prominent symptom of the disease."
john thomas returned abruptly to his popcorn, and miss billy, in the absence of anything better, and with a flash of the old time fire in her eyes, threw a handful of popcorn at the tormentor.
"perhaps you would like to sample these cakes," said margaret, standing floury and smiling in the doorway, with a plate in her-339- hand. "francis, it is less than six months ago that you and i sat in the mud of a side street in cologne, while a rain of these lovely little cakes fell about our devoted heads. i little thought i should be making some for you at christmas time."
"we cannot foretell the future," said theodore solemnly. "next christmas—who knows?—we may all be in 'der faderland,' honourable attachees of the household of the count and countess lindsay. miss billy can be 'lady in waiting,' and hold up your sky-blue green pink train, margaret,—and john thomas can be buttons at the front door——"
"the last five months have certainly been an unexpected and pleasant experience for me," interrupted francis. "but play time is over. i shall be off for new york saturday."
"to stay—forever?" appealed miss billy piteously. "oh, francis,—i can't spare you."
there were tears in her eyes, and he took the small white hand between his own brown palms.
-340-
"not forever, miss billy," he said gently. "i hope to come back again,—many times; and some of the goodness, and brightness, and helpfulness of cherry street shall always be with me, wherever i am."
"and i," said margaret, with a little sigh, "shall return to cologne next month; i, too, shall miss cherry street, but nothing shall sadden me now that billy is well."
"i have a lump in my throat as i dwell upon the inevitableness of human destiny," said theodore. "but honestly, lindsay, we shall miss you. as for you, margaret,
"maid of col-ogne, ere we part,
give, o give me back my heart."
"you gave it to marie jean the night of the lawn social," rejoined margaret promptly. "i didn't want it, you know,—it was so warm and sticky."
"and i didn't know what to do with it, so i ate it," said marie jean, with a giggle. "i remember it was flavoured with peppermint."
-341-
"cannibal!" murmured theodore,—and lapsed into injured silence.
beatrice and francis had returned to the holly wreaths. "we shall be sorry to have you go," she said, her eyes on the branches in her lap. "what you said about cherry street made me want to cry. i, certainly, in the past, have not been a part of the goodness and brightness and helpfulness. before you go, let me tell you i am sorry for everything."
"and i am glad." he took from her lap as he spoke a bit of the holly and broke it in two. "keep this," he said, "and i shall keep the other half, 'sweet summer memories to recall,'—till i come again."
christmas eve fell softly upon cherry street wrapped in its snowy mantle, with a pale silver moon like a crescent of promise, shining low down in the west.
"when i saw it last," said holly belle, "it was over my left shoulder, and i thought miss billy was goin' to die."
-342-
"an' i heard the death tick in the wall," said mrs. canary, "an' dreampt of white horses three nights hand runnin'. i never knew the signs to fail before."
"signs can't hurt miss billy," said holly belle with conviction, as she hastened the little canarys into their holiday attire. "she don't believe in 'em—nor dream books, nor nothin'. an' i ain't a-goin' to after this, neither."
"holly belle," said mrs. canary impressively, "the night yer grandfather died i was a sittin' there by the window——"
"i don't care," broke in holly belle stoutly: ("fridoline, hold up yer chin! how can i fasten yer necktie when yer leanin' it down like that!)—i don't care fer all the old signs in the world. miss billy don't believe in 'em, an' i ain't a-goin' to, neither."
in the hennesy home, mr. hennesy had brought out the ancient coat, and was struggling into one of john thomas's collars. it was fastened at last, and mr. hennesy regarded his appearance in the glass with in-343-terest. "all oi do be nadin'," he commented, "is a check rein from the top av me head to me shoulder blades, to make me be lookin' loike a four-year-old colt. john thomas, wan av these days whin ye go to bite off a bit av tough mate, ye'll hit on wan av these aidges an' cut yer jugglery vein. moind now, what o'im sayin'."
illustration
“all oi do be nadin’” ... “is a check rein from the top
av me head to me shoulder blades.”
at number 12 cherry street there was warmth and light and glow. out in the kitchen the smiling maggie presided over two boilers of coffee and a table full of iced cakes and confections. as the guests began to arrive the folding doors between the minister's study and the parlour were thrown open, and the christmas tree, glowing with coloured balls and wax tapers, stood revealed. the street improvement club, to a man, greeted the glittering spectacle with delight, but the ecstasy of some of the younger members became suddenly extinguished in their mothers' skirts at the sudden appearance of an exceedingly corpulent saint nicholas in the parlour door.
-344-
"ladies and gentlemen,—members of the street improvement club and fellow citizens:" began the jolly saint, keeping his whiskers applied with one hand, and gesticulating gracefully with the other;—"owing to a stringency in the money market, this tree is mostly made up of tarlatan bags containing nuts, candy and popcorn, with verses of excellent poetry thrown in. you will observe that the greater share of the gifts seem to be for the children, and for young ladies between the ages of sixteen and twenty,—but there are a few trinkets for all, and plenty of good will beside."
here the good saint paused, and was obliged to hold on his whiskers with both hands, and he viewed the facial contortions of ikey levi, who wanted to cry and was afraid the saint might not like it.
"i find here, attached to one of the most prominent branches," went on saint nicholas, "a charming female savage in a short skirt and a feather head-dress. it is marked 'for-345- marie jean hennesy, from theodore l—.' it also bears this inscription:
"this tender maid of dusky shade,
eats lovers' hearts,—beware!
she'll take them raw, like cabbage slaw,
or overdone or rare.
"will miss hennesy step up to receive her gift? i regret that mr. theodore cannot be with us this evening to receive his thanks in person.
"here also, is a beautiful toy omnibus, from the same benevolent source, with a pair of spirited horses attached, and a handsome driver atop. it is marked 'miss billy,' and the following tender verse accompanies it:
"a maiden once reasoned her thus—
'i think i shall hire a whole bus:'
she rode on the top, and the people did stop
and declared that it couldn't be wuss!
"i regret that i do not find a snuff box on the boughs for herr lindsay. in its absence i shall beg him to accept the trifling gift of this tin trumpet, that he may be able to blow-346- his own horn when he is far away, and cherry street can no longer blow it for him. is mr. lindsay present?"
the gifts were being rapidly distributed, and the jolly saint's charming speeches could no longer be heard above the happy talk and laughter. holly belle hugged a leather music roll and a copy of "five little peppers" to her breast, ikey levi played the long roll on a red drum, pius coffey made his toilet before the wee-est of pocket mirrors, with the wee-est of pocket combs, and beatrice held a single long-stemmed american beauty rose in her hand, when saint nicholas rapped loudly for order.
"i find here, on the very topmost bough," he announced, "a blue envelope addressed to miss wilhelmina lee, president of cherry street improvement club. open it and read it aloud, miss billy."
miss billy cut the sealed edge, and a slip of blue paper fluttered to the floor. then with surprise, delight, excitement and wavering dis-347-trust in her tones, she read aloud the following letter:
"new york, december 22, 19—.
"miss wilhelmina lee,
"president improvement club,
"cherry street, j—— city.
"dear madam:—
"we herewith enclose you our check for one hundred dollars, as agreed by us in our prize offer of august last. the pictures you sent easily won the prize for marked street improvement, although there were many competitors. wishing you all success in your work,
"we are
"very respectfully,
"peter hanson & co.,
"florists, new york."
"is it a joke?" said miss billy, looking at saint nicholas as if she didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
but the good saint, holding his whiskers in his hand in the excitement of the moment, had stooped to the floor for the bit of blue paper, and was examining it closely in the glow of the tree.
-348-
"it's genuine, all right," he answered. "it's peter hanson's check for one hundred dollars on the first national bank of new york."
"it came this afternoon," said francis smilingly,—"and knowing what it might be, i received it and put it on the tree for you. i took the last snap shot and sent it away while you were ill, miss billy."
a prolonged, mighty, deafening cheer went up from the assembled throats of the improvement club,—a glorified cheer,—a cheer of triumph, pride, and growing strength, with cat-calls innumerable tacked on to the end. the astonished maggie, entering the door with a tray piled high with plates and napkins, was brushed lightly aside by mr. hennesy.
"clare the middle av the room," he shouted in stentorian tones: "i'm a-goin' to cut a pigeon wing."
"three cheers for miss billy," proposed francis.
"and now a tiger for francis," returned-349- miss billy, and the hubbub, but just ended, rose again.
"an' another fer the frinds av the club," said mr. hennesy, shaking hands right and left with everybody.
saint nicholas, with his whiskers readjusted, rapped once more for order. "let me suggest, my friends," he said, "that we give one last lusty cheer for cherry street. one, two, three—now!"
