Daddy, again, was a Word he never used but lovingly. I stooped over him, and kissed him two or three Times; then set him completely to rights, for his Head had slipped off the Pillow, and he was lying very uncomfortably, without the Power to right himself.
"You're a prime one!" says he. "Thy dear Mother has no Strength to handle me, though the Will's ne'er a-wanting; and I can't bear her to move me for fear of her doing herself a Hurt. As for Prue, she does nought but sit by the Fire and sigh! But thou'rt able and willing both, Patty; so keep about me all you can."
I promised him I would, and he soon became again quiet. Prudence presently stole in; and in dumb Show bade me go down to sup with my Mother. As my Father seemed sleeping, I did so, and had a long Talk with dear Mother; after which, I prevailed with her to sleep with Prue, and let me keep Watch, assuring her I was quite fresh. She consented at length, from sheer Incapacity to hold out any longer; and, after a good Meal, I went up and took my Sister's Place. Shortly, the House became perfectly silent, and the distant Clocks struck Twelve.
I sate by the Fire, musing on many Things and Persons, and a good deal of Mr. Fenwick; and, before I was aware, large Tears were quietly rolling down my Face. I was not pleased with my late Conduct of my own Mind, and resolved on more Self-control and Self-discipline. While framing these seasonable Resolutions, a Strain of low, sweet, solemn Music stole through the Air. The Christmas Waits were playing beneath some distant Window, and at the End of their soft Melody, I could make out by the Rhythm, though not by the Articulation, the poor Musicians crying out:
"The Chelsea Waits make bold to call,
Good-morrow to you; Masters and Mistresses all."
I dreaded their waking my Father as they drew nearer, but there was no Help for it. I rested my Head against the high Back of the Nursing-chair, in a Kind of dreamy, lazy Luxury, listening to the lovely Sounds; and called to Mind the old Text, "Ye shall have a Song in the Night; as when some holy Solemnity is kept."
Ah, thought I, we are apt to fancy ourselves in the Blackness of Darkness, when any Sorrow or Bereavement comes over us, and yet our good God sends us a Song in the Night!—The poor Shepherds in the Fields of Bethlehem lay watching their Flocks by Night, when all seemed dark and dreary, but suddenly a Light shone upon them, and they heard sweet Music in the Air, even sweeter than that which I hear now.
Then I thought of the Manger, and the holy Child, and the Mother; and the wise Men following the Star. The Folds of the Window-curtains were a little apart, and I could see the Stars glimmering.
All at once, my Father, in a hurried Voice, exclaims, "They're moving now!"
"What, dear Father?" said I softly, looking in on him.