When they got into the old study the light shone right through the door that led into Turpentine. It frightened Ruth. She thought the house might be on fire. But the door swung open of itself; and she and the baby, Satan and Turk, all entered. The little room was a blaze of glory. She had to put her hands up to her eyes and shade them, because the light was so strong. It all came from a row of packages arranged on the shelves. And such a wonderful, mysterious, lovely sight you never saw. The packages were various shapes and sizes. They were all done up in nothing with greatest care, and each was tied with a narrow piece of something or other. Several packages had strings of blue sky around them, ending in curious bows. Three packages were tied with real little rainbows. They were beautiful objects. The rest of them had sunsets twisted about them, gorgeous colors streaming from them in all directions. Do you wonder that Ruth's eyes were dazzled?
A singular thing about the packages was, that being done up in nothing, and bound with such tenuous and transparent stuff as blue sky, sunsets, and rainbows, one could see straight through these coverings and fastenings, and gaze upon the beautiful things within. Each present had a label of light above it. For instance, there were the shining letters, S,A,M,U,E,L, worked upon the background of darkness over the present for Samuel. The letters seemed to hover above the package just as you see light hover above children's heads in some pictures of the old masters. So it was very easy for Ruth to pick out the different gifts, and put them where they belonged. There were seventeen of them. One for each child, one for the minister, and one for his wife.
"How nice to remember father and mother!" said Ruth to the dog, the cat, and the baby. "I never thought of that. Now, how shall I carry them?" For she felt that she would like to show them to the Judge and his wife. So she raised the window that connected this closet with the parlor, and taking each gift, carried it to the piano, and arranged the whole show where Mr. and Mrs. "Judge" might see it from the pictures. The baby, Turk, and Satan watched her while she made the change. The parlor was warm; and just as soon as she brought the marvellous presents into the room, every nook and cranny was a perfect splendor of brightness. "Dear me!" exclaimed the child, "I must go up-stairs and get some colored glasses or I shall lose my eyesight." She was gone and back again in one minute and thirteen seconds. The green goggles gave her a wise and aged appearance, and she seemed to feel the importance of the occasion. "Here are the presents, Judge." She was now addressing the pictures. "They are just too sweet for anything. How nice it is that I don't have to undo any of them, but can look right straight through their covers, and see what's in every package!" The Judge and his wife were both wide awake, taking in every word that Ruth spoke.
"Now, what is this for Samuel? A flower, I do believe. He can wear it in his buttonhole. Oh, how sweet and beautiful it is! The house seems full of its sweetness. I love it." Ruth bent over to kiss the airy, fragile thing. "Why, here's a name under it, and a sentence. Did you write it Judge?" And the picture seemed to nod as much as to say "Yes." "Courtesy." "To be worn all one's waking hours. It will make the wearer welcome."
The next package was shaped round like a ball. The bow on it was blue sky. "It looks to me like a—what is it you call it, when you look into a mirror? Oh! I've got it. It's a reflection. Now, that must be for Helen. Yes, I see her name in fine letters of flame above. H,E,L,E,N. You didn't send the curls, did you?" Ruth looked anxiously at Mrs. "Judge." "I suppose you thought that as Helen was going to write a book she needed reflection more than the curls."
The third package was long. The thing within was long, and it looked like nothing that one had ever seen.
"What can it be?" said Ruth to herself. As she took it and felt of it, she found that it was sensitive, yet quite firm. The object was pure white, not a spot or wrinkle on it. The floating label above the package spelled out the letters H,E,R,B,E,R,T. Ruth read the name. "That can't be backbone. It's too light for that. And yet how strong it is. How in the world can he ever get that inside of him where it belongs?" The fourth package was about seven inches in length, rather narrow, and larger at one end than the other. "I do believe it's a spoon," shouted Ruth. "It must be for Theodora. They've found her gold spoon, and sent it to her. And yet it doesn't look like gold. How funny! When I feel of it I don't feel of anything. It isn't so pretty as I thought it would be. It has a kind of dull look. But how much better one feels to hold it." Ruth had taken the curious object in her hand, and was putting it up to her lips, and going through various motions with it. "Here is some writing. The spoon is marked. What big letters they are! Theodora hasn't all those initials. C,O,N,T,E,N,T,M,E,N,T. Well, that beats me. But I suppose she'll know what it means."
The child now picked up her own present. They all seemed so bright and wonderful that she had forgotten to choose her own first. Ruth's package had a great many sides to it. Every color imaginable appeared on the surface. It was tied with several little rainbows, and there were ever so many streamers and rosettes upon it. She saw her name above; and she saw some letters printed into the leaves of the flower, for it was a lovely, shining little blossom that was contained within her package. It seemed to her that all the colors of all the rainbows in the sky had been woven into this matchless posey. There were nine leaves to it, and each leaf was made up of half a dozen shades of one or another color. And then on each leaf there was distinctly seen a letter done in diamond embroidery; so that the light which shot forth from such delicate tracery was almost as bright as the sun. One leaf had S, a second E, a third N, a fourth T, a fifth I, a sixth M, a seventh E, an eighth N, and the ninth and last T. Ruth spelled it out carefully. S,E,N,T,—here she paused and thought a moment. "Why, to be sure!" she exclaimed; "it has a very sweet scent. I think it smells quite as good as Samuel's. But I told you, you remember" (she was now addressing the pictures), "that father said I needed sense. I'm afraid he'll say that one 'sent' isn't enough." Then she continued her spelling. "I, MENT. Well, now, isn't that queer? 'I meant.'" She repeated it several times. "I meant cent. Were you trying to correct me, Judge? When I said sense did I mean (what is it they call it), oh, singular, not plural? Everybody says I've got a great deal of imagination, but I lack (father says sense but that isn't what I mean now)—I lack."... And then Ruth looked at the flower again; and spelled the word, and spoke it aloud. "'SENTIMENT,' that's it. Sentiment. I know what it is. I shall certainly be a poet. They all say so. Thank you, dear Judge and Mrs. 'Judge.' I'm going to begin to-morrow and write poetry. I feel as if I could write some now. But I must go through the presents and put them in the children's stockings first." So Ruth put down her package of "Sentiment," and examined the other gifts.
She took the one marked H,E,N,R,Y into her hands, and the room was filled with the most heavenly music. The package was the shape of a cylinder. It had a transparent cylinder within it. And this cylinder was written all over with strange characters, exactly as you see or feel on the cylinder of a graphophone. Only it didn't seem to be made of anything, and when Ruth took the object into her hands it was like holding a pinch of air. It appeared to run of its own accord. Ruth was enchanted with the melodies. They made her think of everything good "in the heavens above, and in the earth beneath, and in the waters under the earth." She was so happy that she cried. Every tear that she dropped went into the machine, and made the music all the sweeter. Then she read the words under the package. "Music in the soul;" and she felt as if it were really stealing into her, and as if it were impossible to keep it there, and she must let this music in the soul go in every direction.