It was fine Christmas weather. Several light snow-storms in the early part of December had left the earth fair and white, and the sparkling, cold days that followed were enough to make the most crabbed and morose of mankind cheerful, as with a foretaste of the joyous season at hand. Down town the sidewalks were crowded with mothers and sisters, buying gifts for their sons, brothers, and husbands, who found it impossible to get anywhere by taking the ordinary course of foot-travel, and were obliged to stalk along the snowy streets beside the curbstone, in a sober but not ill-humored row.
Among those who were looking forward to the holidays with keen anticipations of pleasure, were Mr. and Mrs. Brownlow, of Elm Street, Boston. They had quietly talked the matter over together, and decided that, as there were three children in the family (not counting themselves, as they might well have done), it would be a delightful and not too expensive luxury to give a little Christmas party.
“You see, John,” said Mrs. Brownlow, “we’ve been asked, ourselves, to half a dozen candy-pulls and parties since we’ve lived here, and it seems nothin’ but fair that we should do it once ourselves.”
“That’s so, Clarissy,” replied her husband slowly; “but then—there’s so many of us, and my salary’s—well, it would cost considerable, little woman, wouldn’t it?”
“I’ll tell you what!” she exclaimed. “We needn’t have a regular grown-up party, but just one for children. We can get a small tree, and a bit of a present for each of the boys and girls, with ice-cream and cake, and let it go at that. The whole thing sha’n’t cost ten dollars.”
“Good!” said Mr. Brownlow heartily. “I knew you’d get some way out of it. Let’s tell Bob and Sue and Polly, so they can have the fun of looking forward to it.”
So it was settled and all hands entered into the plan with such a degree of earnestness that one would have thought these people were going to have some grand gift themselves, instead of giving to others, and pinching for a month afterwards, in their own comforts, as they knew they would have to do.
The first real difficulty they met was in deciding whom to invite. John was for asking only the children of their immediate neighbors; but Mrs. Brownlow said it would be a kindness, as well as polite, to include those who were better off than themselves.
“I allus think, John,” she explained, laying her hand on his shoulder, “that it’s just’s much despisin’ to look down on your rich neighbors—as if all they’d got was money—as on your poor ones. Let’s ask ’em all: Deacon Holsum’s, the Brights, and the Nortons.” The Brights were Mr. Brownlow’s employers.