CHAPTER XVI
MERRY CHRISTMAS
On every Christmas morning it was the custom of Amzi's sisters to repair with their several families to his house, carrying their gifts and bearing thence such presents as he might bestow. The Fosdicks and the Watermans had children, and these were encouraged to display themselves frequently at their uncle's. And Amzi was kind and generous in his relations with all of them. Amzi Waterman and Amzi Fosdick, still in short trousers, had been impressed at their respective homes with the importance of ingratiating themselves with Uncle Amzi, and Amzi, fully cognizant of this, was an ideal uncle to each impartially. Mrs. Fosdick hoped that her little Susan would be as thoroughly established in Amzi's regard as Phil; there was always Phil,—that unbridled, unbroken, fearless young mustang of a Phil.
Amzi was down early giving the final revision to his list of presents. Having found in years gone by that it was decidedly unsafe to buy gifts for his sisters, as they were never satisfied with his selections and poorly concealed their displeasure, he had latterly adopted the policy of giving each of them one hundred dollars in gold.
Ten was the usual hour for the family gathering, and as the clock struck, Amzi began wandering through the house restlessly. Occasionally he grinned, and said "Thunder!" quietly to himself. In the night watches he had pondered the advisability of warning Lois's sisters of her return; but he saw nothing to be gained by this. Something of Lois's serene indifference had communicated itself to him; and as an attentive student of the continuing human comedy he speculated cheerfully as to the length and violence of the impending storm. Kirkwood had never participated in these Christmas morning visits, and Phil usually dropped in after her aunts had departed. It seemed easier to let Fate take charge of the disclosure.
A door slammed in the upper hall, and Amzi heard the colored woman descending the back stairs. Lois was having her breakfast in her room, an unprecedented circumstance in the domestic economy. Then Jeremiah was summoned to distribute the much-belabeled trunks. Amzi's sensations during these unwonted excitements were, on the whole, not disagreeable. The invasion of his bachelor privacy was too complete for any minute analysis of what he liked or didn't like. It was a good deal of a joke,—this breakfasting in bed, this command of the resources of his establishment to scatter trunks about. As he crossed the hall he was arrested by a cheerful "Merry Christmas."
Lois, in a pink kimona, smilingly waved her hand from the top step where she sat composedly watching him.
"Merry Christmas!" he called back.
"Here's a present for you,—got it in Paris, special. If you don't like it, I'll trade you another for it. Catch!"