“Nothing,” was the satisfied response. “I only just stopped to see if my money was still there. I won’t feel really safe until I’ve spent it, I guess!”
CHAPTER V
CHRISTMAS DAYS
Arnold had his wish that Christmas, for when Toby awoke on the morning of the twenty-fifth in his little room under the eaves he found that a miracle had occurred while he slept. In fact the miracle was still occurring! Greenhaven was smothered in snow, and big, lazy flakes were still falling from a leaden, misty void. Harbor Street, as it wound northward, showed a single line of footprints, and those were fast being obliterated. The boat yard, across the road, was covered with a white mantle. Beyond, the Cove was dimly discernible, gray-green. The stern of a coal-scow peered through the white mist from the end of Rollinson’s Wharf and a little black fishing boat swung at moorings near by. It was a white, silent and, to Toby, very wonderful world that met the sight that Christmas morning. But Toby didn’t linger long at his window, for the room was cold. Instead, wondering whether Arnold had discovered the snow yet, and deciding, with a chuckle, that he hadn’t, since it was only seven and Arnold was not a very early riser when at home, he hurried into his clothes and was presently on his way down the creaky staircase.
Appetizing odors came from the kitchen, but the dining-room was deserted save for Mr. Murphy. Mr. Murphy’s greeting was a strident “Hello, dearie! Won’t you come in and take off your bonnet?” After which he sidled lumbersomely along his perch, put his head coyly on one side and chuckled.
“Hello, you old scoundrel,” said Toby. “Merry Christmas to you.” He rubbed the parrot’s head with a finger and Mr. Murphy closed his beady eyes and enjoyed it. Toby was glad there was no one there, for it gave him an opportunity to place the packages he had brought around the table. Others, he saw, had been ahead of him, for already each plate held its quota of mysterious parcels tied with red ribbon. Then Phebe came in from the kitchen and Mr. Tucker stamped in from outdoors and Christmas greetings mingled, while Mr. Murphy, who loved excitement, bobbed about on his perch and cried “All hands stand by!” and “Come to breakfast! Come to breakfast! Come to breakfast!” And in the middle of the hubbub appeared Toby’s mother bearing a big platter, and a minute later they were all seated at the table.
That was a very merry meal. One after another the packages were undone and the contents exclaimed upon and passed from hand to hand to be admired and every one quite forgot to eat anything until all the presents had been opened. Mr. Tucker was very much pleased with his shaving set, and Phebe, who was thirteen and fast becoming a very pretty young lady, wound the blue-and-white silk scarf Toby had given her round her throat and refused to be parted from it. Toby’s gift to his mother was a pair of gloves which Mrs. Tucker declared very much too fine for her. The fact that they were a full size too small was not divulged. Toby’s own presents were simple and practical; a dressing-gown and handkerchiefs from his mother and sister, a five-dollar gold piece from his father, a pair of woolen mittens from Long Tim and a watch-fob of braided leather from Shorty Joe. Tim and Joe worked in Mr. Tucker’s boat yard. When, later in the day, Billy Plank, the postman, plowed up to the door, there was another gift for Toby. Of course he guessed right away who it was from, and his guess proved right. There was a card on top of the little blue box which read: “Merry Christmas to Toby from Arnold.” When the layer of cotton had been removed, as well as much white tissue paper, the gift resolved itself into a pair of gold cuff-links with the letters T. T. intertwined on them. Of course, as Toby said, they were much too expensive for his use, but they pleased him immensely and he carried them around in his pocket all day and viewed them proudly at intervals. By comparison, his gift to Arnold, an inexpensive little leather case for pins and studs, looked rather mean, but he was much too sensible to be worried over it.
After breakfast he set out to visit Long Tim and Shorty Joe and deliver the presents he had brought them, two ties of most remarkable hues which, judged solely as color effects, had been stupendously cheap at thirty-seven cents apiece! Fortunately, as Toby well knew, both Joe and Tim were fond of bright colors, and his gifts were received with open-eyed admiration. It was almost noon when he at last got away from Shorty Joe, who had much to tell him of happenings during his three months’ absence from Greenhaven. They weren’t very important happenings, but they were of interest to Toby. Dinner was at two o’clock, and Toby’s Uncle Benedict and Aunt Sarah, from Good Ground, arrived a few minutes before, Aunt Sarah bringing him a pair of worsted gloves which she had knitted. Toby was sorry that he had neglected to provide a gift for her, but Aunt Sarah didn’t appear to notice the omission. Dinner was a very jolly and very hearty affair, and after it was over, Toby, resisting a desire to go to sleep, persuaded Phebe to don her new muffler and go for a walk with him. It was getting well along toward dusk by that time and the snow, which had fallen steadily since before midnight, had almost stopped. They took the road through the town and then turned up the hill behind the little village from which a wonderful view of Spanish Harbor and the bay lay before them. They had lots to talk about and Phebe was full of questions regarding Toby’s school adventures. On the way back they met two of Toby’s friends, Billy Conners and Gus Whalen, and the quartette went on to the little white cottage around the end of the Cove and satisfied surprisingly vigorous hungers with slices of cold turkey and cranberry tarts.
Toby returned to New York Monday afternoon and spent a glorious four days with Arnold. They went twice to theaters, had several sleigh rides far out into the country, patronized the “movies” two afternoons, explored the Park, lunched one day with Arnold’s father at a sumptuous club and, in short, were busy every moment and went to bed each night so tired that they fell asleep the instant their heads touched the pillows.