Christmas Holidays; or, a Visit at Home

by Anonymous

And heaven, who gave the precious boon, designed

That she should train her infant for the skies.

The stage coach stopped at the door of the Academy in Abington, an hour later than the expected time, and Howard and George Barrington ran forward with eagerness, as school boys are wont to do, when they are going from a retired part of the country into the city, at the Christmas Holidays.

The stage passed rapidly along the fine turnpike road; and at dusk the blowing of the horn announced their near approach to the great city; soon the coachman’s whip was thrown on the top of the vehicle, a loud ring at the door of their father’s mansion was answered by the servant in waiting; the boys beheld the cheerful lighted hall, and were soon locked in the arms of their parents and sisters, who ran out of the parlour to receive them. The parlour too was lighted, not only with lamps, but by a blazing hickory fire, for it was a cold, frosty evening, toward the end of December. “What kept you so late?” said Emma to her brother George, whose hand she still held. “I believe,” said he, “we were not longer than usual in coming, but the stage did not leave Abington for an hour after the appointed time; it was waiting for passengers, and was very much crowded.” “I thought you would never come,” said Emma.

Howard, who had been in earnest conversation with his mother, now turned to George, and said, “Did you not feel sorry for poor John when he found he could not get into the coach? I really pitied him, for he was just as eager to go as we were; and I could not help thinking what a disappointment it would be to his parents, who, no doubt, were looking out as anxiously for him, as our parents were for us.” “O, don’t think about it, Howard,” said George. “I dare say he’ll get down to-morrow, and that will do as well.”

Before we proceed, we will give the reader a little insight into the characters of these boys: Howard, the eldest, (who was named after the great philanthropist of that name,) was twelve years old, slender and delicately formed; his capacity was good, his disposition amiable and obliging, and his school mates called him the finest fellow in the world. He possessed, indeed, genuine sensibility; that sensibility which feels the misfortunes of others, as well as its own sorrows. This latter quality, though a lovely one, subjected him to a great many trials; and one of the objects his judicious mother had in view in sending him from home, was to counteract this tendency to morbid feeling; she did not wish to crush the beautiful germs, which, if properly directed, might at some future period, make him the benefactor of mankind; but she wanted his strength of mind to keep pace with his benevolent feelings, and she found, the only way to accomplish this, was to throw him upon his oars, (to use a sea phrase,) and compel him to think and act in a great measure for himself. The school and the family provided for him, were every way unexceptionable. The teacher was a clergyman, past the middle of life, of exemplary piety, one who possessed great suavity of manners, and who had the happy faculty of attaching his pupils to him in an extraordinary degree. He was made acquainted with Howard’s peculiar temper, and suited himself to it; treating him with great kindness, yet, with that firmness he so much required.

George Washington, called after the beloved father of our country, was almost the opposite of his brother; yet we will not take away from him the commendation he deserves, for he too had his good qualities, and at ten years old, was called by most folks, a smart and brave fellow. He was short and chubby, with the promise of very good talents; bold and daring, and of a quick, passionate temper, which continually wanted a curb. His parents had early been aware of this, and by discreet management, had so far kept him under complete control. When out of their sight, however, he would sometimes break out, and get into scrapes; his brother was then his refuge, for the respect shown to him, even at this tender age, generally ensured peace, and the culprit was forgiven.

Providence, who is ever watchful over the affairs of life, apparently designed these lads to be blessings to each other. If George was sometimes betrayed into rashness by the boldness of his nature, the same confidence was exerted to raise his brother from his desponding fits, as he laughingly termed the tenderness Howard discovered for the human woes he felt, or saw around him.

After greetings all round had taken place, and the domestics also had welcomed their young masters home, the tea-table was set out; and George, who was generally on the look out for something good, saw to his great pleasure, a nice plum cake placed in the middle of the table. It was Mrs. Barrington’s desire to make her children happy. She did not approve of giving them luxuries at all times, because health is best promoted by plain food, but at this time, she thought she might innocently allow them a few indulgencies, as her circumstances in life were affluent, and she was not compelled to rob the poor, in order to afford her children the gratification. They were soon seated at the tea-table. Emma and the two little ones were permitted on this evening to join the group, in honour of the arrival of their brothers. They were two sweet cherub-looking children; the one three years old, had a very fair complexion, and glossy flaxen hair, which hung in curls on her little shoulders,—and such is the effect of habit, or imitation, that the moment she was placed at table, she put her little hands on it, closed her soft blue eyes, and was ready for the blessing her father was to ask; never was there a sweeter picture of innocent loveliness: the young folks had a great deal of merry chit-chat round the table; after the tea things were removed, the two younger children were sent to bed—Emma remained an hour longer.—Mamma then directed the servant to place the table nearer the fire, and to add fresh fuel to it—the green cloth was then thrown over the table, the newspapers were placed on it for papa, and sewing materials, and interesting books for the rest of the party. They were tolerably quiet, while papa was reading, only now and then George would forget that he was not in the woods at Abington, and Emma would whisper a few words in his ear, which would make him laugh out. Soon, however, Dr. Barrington went into his office, a very neat room, which adjoined the parlour. The children tenderly loved their father, yet they were not sorry to see him go away for a little while; the respect they likewise felt for him, did not produce restraint; but yet they were generally rather silent when he was present, because they could not bear to interrupt him. They knew his mind was almost always engaged with some important duty. He was a physician, and in truth, even the few hours he gave to domestic enjoyment, were not without their cares: when surrounded by an attractive circle, which his reputation had drawn around him, he was oftentimes compelled to think deeply: he was responsible for the lives of his fellow creatures, and was conscientious in the discharge of every duty to them. After he withdrew, their little tongues were all in motion. “Come, come, my children,” said Mrs. B., “it is my turn to be speaker now;” a cry of hush! hush! went round, and soon they were all mum. Mamma then addressed them, “I have been thinking, my dear boys, and Emma too, what Christmas box I should get for you. Your father and myself were talking over this weighty matter before you came home, intending to surprise you; he, however, thought it best, as you are all now of an age to have some judgment of your own, to let you choose for yourselves.” “And me too, mamma?” said little Emma. “Yes, my dear,” said her mother, “you will go with your brothers, and Howard, if not George, can surely advise you.” “Dear, dear mamma,” vociferated the trio, “how good you are!” “and will you give us the money in our own hands,” cried Emma? At that moment she drew from her reticule a nice purse, and presented each of them with a beautiful new bank note. Their father had sent to the bank for them that day, on purpose to have them fresh; but mamma said to little Emma, after she had sufficiently admired her possession, “now, my dear, as you are a little girl, you had better let Howard take care of your treasure, till the purchase is about to be made.” She did as she was requested to do, and then a debating took place. Many articles were named for the purchase, but for some, the sum was too little, and others would not cost so much. In this state they went to bed, to dream of every thing delightful. As they were leaving the apartment, after having affectionately bade their mother good night, she called to them, and said, “now remember, my dear children, you have but one day more to decide upon your purchase before Christmas, and remember too, you must think well, before you decide; and after you have fixed upon the articles you intend to buy, you must not change your mind. It must also be all concluded upon before you go to the shops, so that you may not give unnecessary trouble, and expose yourselves, as many little boys do, who cannot make up their minds. I would be pleased too, if you would talk the matter over among yourselves, and appeal neither to your father nor myself for advice.” They promised to do all their mother advised, and retired.