“Why—sure enough, Buddy.”
“Kismas time, Mama!”
Before his mother was able to answer, Buddy had run out of the bedroom and was on the way down stairs. It was not until he had reached the foot of the lowest step that Mama caught up with him, and he would likely have run right out doors into the cold and snow had he not been stopped. Aunt Clara called from the kitchen to remind him of the stockings he had hung up. In she came also. Uncle John was already seated in his big chair, and Uncles Martin and Will were warming themselves. With a shout Buddy hurried up and was soon very busy digging out of his stockings the many presents that were there, bags of candy, toys, nuts. He was so busy, as were they all, that they almost forgot their breakfast. When Aunt Clara reminded them that breakfast was ready, Buddy could only be persuaded to come to the table when he was allowed to take with him a roly-poly policeman of celluloid and an iron horse that he had found among his presents. They had all bowed their heads quietly, while Uncle Will read the Christmas story from the Gospel of St. Luke, and had bowed their heads in prayer.
The last words of the Lord’s Prayer were just being uttered, with the “Amen,” when there was the sound of a rap at the door. All about the table started with surprise. Uncle Martin arose to open the door. When the door swung back there stood before them a tall figure dressed in a heavy gray overcoat.
The sudden silence of a deep surprise fell upon them all. Uncle Martin seemed at a loss. It was a very unusual time to get a visitor. The stranger took off his cap. He said:
“Mary?” Why he put the word in the tone of a question seemed hard to understand. Then suddenly Mama gave a scream, and rose from her chair. The stranger came forward, and took her in his arms. Horse in one hand and policeman in the other, Buddy looked up wonderingly.
“Oh, Buddy! Oh, Charles!”
These were the words with which Mama greeted Daddy. For it was no other than Daddy, returned from the World War.
The Christmas breakfast was indeed a happy one. Daddy told of his long and delayed stay with the Army of Occupation, of his prolonged and deadly illness, in which he had twice been given up for dead, and of how he had at last found himself able to set out for home. Thus there was a busy hour of talk, in which Uncle Martin and Uncle Will forgot their chores, as they sat about the table and conversed. Buddy was safely located between his mama and papa, altho he looked with somewhat shy wonder at the latter, whom he could not be said to know, as he had never seen him before.
The men went about their work, and this reminded Buddy of his presents. Quickly he wriggled down to the floor and ran to where his stockings had hung.