Nor, in the general largess, was the “stranger within the gates” forgotten. The tree held for Christine a fine pair of mittens from granny, a most beautiful woven coverlet from Anne, and a rosy apple each from Phœbe, Ellen, Minervy, Lukeanna, and John Jeems.
The scene was indeed a happy one. Absorbed in the joy of their offspring, and in their own gratified love of the beautiful, Goodloes and Talberts mingled freely, and melted into friendliness and cordiality. John Goodloe and Jeems Talbert alone stood apart, each by his fire, eying gloomily his orange and poke of candy.
Suddenly granny, laying her “pretty poppet” in Christine’s arms, stepped forward in front of the tree and raised a hand for silence.
“Friends, Talberts and Goodloes,” she began, in a wavering old voice which took on strength as she proceeded, “we find ourselves gathered to-day in onlooked-for and, I may say, onpossible fashion, refreshing our mortal eyes with the sight of this here wonderly tree, and our immortal sperrits with the good tidings the fotch-on woman has just read us out of the Book. I never heared just that particular scripture read before, or if so I never kotch its full meaning. Of course I knowed Christ had come to earth ’way back yander in old, ancient days some time or ’nother; but I never heared tell of his coming to all men. From what the preachers said, I got the idee he just come for to snatch a few elect favor-rites out of the hell to which all the rest of us was predestinated, whether or no; and consequent’, I never tuck no great interest in him, or felt particular’ grateful. Even if I had had the assurance of being one of the elect myself, which I never, I still would have worried a sight over them which was bound to be lost, not seeing no justice, let alone mercy, in it.
“But now comes the woman, and reads out of the scripture that the angels theirselves laid down and declared that unto all men was borned a Saviour, that the tidings of joy was for all. Which, though it takes me by surprise, is the very best and most welcomest news that ever fell upon my years. Yes, glory to God! all men,—not only the elect, not only the upright, but the very low-downest and dog-meanest, the vilest and needingest and most predestinated, is all took in. Now that’s the kind of a Saviour my heart has allus called for; that’s the kind I have laid awake of nights longing to hear tell of; and now at last the news has come, ’pears like my bosom will bu’st with the joy I hain’t able to utter.
“And that hain’t the only good tidings we have heared this notable day. That selfsame angel, and a multitude more, sang together in that Christmas sky, ‘Peace on earth, good-will toward men.’ O friends and chillens, words indeed fails me when I try to tell what powerful good news that is to me. For if ever a woman has craved peace and pursued it, if ever a woman has had her fill of bloodshed and warfare, and her heart tore and stobbed by violence and contention, I am that woman. Yes, for forty year’ I hain’t opened my eyes a single morning without fear of what the day might bring forth; my soul and body has been wore to a frazzle by anxiousness and tribulation. All you Talberts and Goodloes under the shadow of my voice know well what I mean, for all of you has staggered under the same burden. Yes, I’ll be bound there hain’t one here but has had his ’nough of war and strife, and is ready to welcome the good Christmas news to-day, and forgit whether he’s a Goodloe or a Talbert.
“Not a one, that is, but two. Surveying all around and about me, I don’t behold but two faces here that hain’t decked out, like the love-lie tree, with Christmas joy and peace. John Goodloe and Jeems Talbert is onliest humans in all this gathering that wears gloom and darkness on their countenance.
“John and Jeems, I am minded to speak out my full thought to you two boys here and now, if I die for it. I’m a-going to unbottle my mind and feelings, now I got you together, which God knows hain’t likely to happen ag’in. And I aim to speak to you, Jeems, just as free as to my son John, for the time was when you was every grain as dear to me as a son, and I never knowed no difference betwixt the two of you. Yes, when your pore young maw died at your birth, and you was left a leetle, pindling, motherless babe, not scarce able to cry, it was me, your nighest neighbor, that tuck you in and keered for you, that worked over you and prayed over you, tryin’ to keep life in your puny leetle body. Many’s the hour you and John have laid in my arms together, him a-sucking one breast and you t’other; and if the milk run short, he was the one that done without, being a week older and a sight stronger than you. And I would set, looking on you both, not able to tell which I loved the best. For him I had love, but for you both love and pity. Yes, I loved you pine-blank as good as John; I may say you was both my firstborns. And when your paw got him a new woman, it was with weeping and wailing and rebelling that I give you up; I reckon I’ll never git over the hurt of it. But even atter that, having fell into the hands of a step-maw, you was allus a-running back to me; my house was home to you; you knowed where to find understanding of your leetle troubles, sympathy for your hurts, and comfort for your stummick. I allow you hain’t forgot them batches of gingercake I used to keep cooked up for you and John?”
Jeems made no reply; but he swallowed perceptibly, and the hand on his crutch twitched nervously.
“You and John,” continued granny, “was allus together in your boy-time in all your pranks and antics; when I whupped one, I knowed it was safe to whup t’ other, and I done it glad’ and generous’, for your future profit. And as you begun, you kep’ on. In your teens, if one sneezed, t’ other kotch his breath. And finally when you got up to be tall, pretty boys, sprouting mustaches and dashing around on nags, you was just as onseparable, doing all your rambling and drinking and gallivanting together, even down to falling in love with the same gal. Yes, that ’ere pretty leetle jade, Nance Bolling, I can see her now,—these store-poppets reminds me pine-blank of her,—just as beautiful, just as empty-headed and hollow-hearted. Well, Nance she left nothing undone to agg you both on, and foment jealousy and hate in your hearts, and then, when she had you plumb beside yourselves, she sot you to fight it out. You fit it out, to that extent Jeems has gone through life on a crutch, and John with one eye and one lung; and while you was laid up with your wounds, Nance upped and run off with another boy, God help him! But did that restore you to your nateral senses and feelings? Did you rise up clothed in your right mind and ashamed of your conduct? Far from it! You riz up b’iling with rage, thirsting for blood, black in the face with that fierce hate which springs only from the root of love. You that had once lived closer than brothers, sot in to layway and ambush and kill, and to rid the earth of one another. You will both bear me out in saying it hain’t the fault of neither that t’ other draws the breath of life to-day.