“This is something like Christmas,” said Uncle Bill, as they sat down to a good dinner from what Danny had brought, though the plum pudding and mince pies were being kept for Christmas Day.
After dinner Danny started off for the village to buy the things Aunt Bridget needed. By the time he had finished his shopping and was starting back again for the woodcutter’s, the sun had set, in a glory of red, beyond the snowy trees, and blue dusk was quickly closing in.
. . . . . . . .
As Danny passed the last house in the village he was surprised to see a figure standing in the garden. He had noticed this house before, as he passed, and had seen that it stood empty, the windows shuttered, the doors locked, and everything deserted. Coming nearer, he looked curiously at the figure. It was that of a very, very old man, thin and bent, with a long white beard, and long white hair. He was shaking his head and talking to himself in a most sorrowful voice.
“A sorry thing, a sorry thing,” he was saying, “to be gone eighty year old and never a corner to lay your head on Christmas Eve.”
Danny stopped, filled with pity for the aged man.
“Hullo, grandad!” he said, “is there anything I can do for you?”
The old man shook his head mournfully. “Nay, nay,” he said, “I be eighty year old, and I’ve walked nine mile to spend Christmas with me gran’son, and now I come to his house and find it empty. I haven’t got nowhere to lay me head this night, and not a penny to pay for a lodging. It’s dying of cold I’ll be, a-lying in a ditch all night.” And he took out a big red handkerchief from his pocket and began to wipe his eyes.
It was too sad to think of this! Somehow a happy Christmas must be provided for this old man, so pathetically like Father Christmas himself! Danny knew the charitable spirit that Uncle Bill always showed, and the warm, generous heart of his Irish aunt, and so he felt sure they would welcome this poor old stranger.
“Come home with me, grandad,” he said, “you’ll find a roaring log fire, and an armchair in the chimney corner, and to-morrow you shall eat Christmas pudding.”