THE CHRISTMAS PRESENT.

Wairarapa Standard, Volume I, Issue 50, 16 December 1867, Page 3

THE CHRISTMAS PRESENT.

Chapter I. “ Looking at jour watch again, husband! Why, you’re worse nor me, I declare! That’s the third time sin I looked at the clock. Well, what’s the time noo ? She must he here soon.” They were a very cosy little couple, sitting in a very cosy little parlour, each in an old-fashioned high-backed and lowseated chair, opposite the other, on each side the fire. A cheerful blaze brightened the whole room, and the kettle was singing merrily on the hob. Tea-things for three were set on a small round table, with a neatness and care that betokened the expectation of some honored guest. The best bright metal teapot and real silver spoons shone as il in holidaydress; andthegorgeous painted peacock on the “ company” tray as proudly erected his crest as if ho was fully conscious of the importance of the occasion. A vacant chair, with a new silk-patch-work cushion, was placed exactly opposite the fire, in readiness to receive and warm the coming visitor, for it was a bitterly cold night, that particular Christmas Eve.

“It’s half-past.five to a minute, noo,” was the. husband’s reply, as with Loth hands he repocketed his huge silver timekeeper. “Is tea made, and- the rashers ready? Don’t keep the poor lass waiting for something to eat when she comes in, for I’ll warrant she’ll be cold and hungry enow. It's a powerful journey from Lunnon i’ such weather as this.” ■

“ Half-past five d’ye say ? "Why,.she’ll be here directly!’’ said his wife. “ Burly Joe pushes on the old mare when ho has the driving 1 of her; and the old,,man didn’t go to-day, as his son has coomed home for Christmas, and so could relieve him of the job. Hark! there’s the wheels, I believe, coomlng up street noo ! Bless the bairn! 1 must go down and meet her.”

“Now, just sit thee still, missus,” said the husband authoritatively, as the little woman started up, and made for tide parlour door. “ It’s not Joe yet, I’ll answer for it. He’s never afore half-past five; and, on a night like this, when he’s sure to be full o’folks, and parcels, and ; the like, he can’t possibly get up street till near upon six.” “True maister. I didn’t,think o’that,” she said, slowly returning to her seat “I gets dazed with the big lump o’ plea sure a dancing f my throas and heart, and afore my eyes. Oh, father, what a blessed thing it is to hev a child like our own Maggie, so beautiful, so good) so clever, and so fond of her plain old. parents! I feel as if she were too good for us; and I often trembles lest'something should happen to take her from us, for we do love her so, that it’s almost like idolatry ; and that’s wrong, you know, father—isn’t it?"’ ; - “ Ay,” said he, “ if .we- think,more of her than of God who gave her to us. But I hope we don’t do that, wife.” Honest old Mr Leyhurn and his wife were as worthy a couple as over journeyed through life together. They had but ona child, their daughter Maggie, whose loved presence they were now so anxiously awaiting; and never were parents more proud and happy than they whenreceiving her affectionate embraces, and gazing on her lovely countenance. Old Leyhurn was a small tradesman in a northern country village. His wares were of that mixed description to be found in almost every country place not boasting a market or near vicinity to a Railway. He had been tolerably prosperous as times went; and his sole ambition bad been to bestow on his darling child an education that should grace the early promise of beauty she gave. In this he so far succeeded as to awaken the envy and jealousy of nearly all the mothers and daughters in the village. . Maggie Leyhurn returned from hoarding school a really lady-like and’pretty girl, without the least vanity or arrogance on account of her suprriority to the rest of the village girls, and not ir. the least ashamed of her homely parents and the shop, the profits of which had raised her to her proud position. She even took her place behind the counter to wait on her father’s customers, until her fond parents discovered that there might be danger to their child in the simple act of weighing and dealing out a few ounces of tobacco; for it was very evident that the cases containing the fragrant weed grew empty much more rapidly when Maggie was at home than when sue happened to be visiting amongst her: friends at a distance; and they drew their own conclusions respecting its fitful consumption amongst the better class of j r ouug men in the village and its neighborhood. “I don’t quite like those idle young fellows who are visiting at the Hall coming here so often for an ounce or two of tobacco, wife,” the worthy man had said to his spouse one day. “ It doesn’t seem natural that such as they should buy it in such oddments; and; what’s more queer, they never seem to smoke at all when our little' Maggie isn’t in tho village. What do you think of it old woman ? There must be .smoking influence in her bright eyes—he}' ?” “ Ha! you’ve,'found it out, too, hev you ?” was the wife’s reply. “ I’ve noticed it this fortnight hack. I tell you what, I don’t half relish them gentlemen lounging in here as they do; but wouldn’t say anything so long as you didn’t mind.il; for, yer see, I shouldn’t like to stop *tho sale o’ the sfuff if thee thought it wur all right; and Maggie’s so good in relieving you of standing behind the counter, that I wouldn’t hinder heir if thee wished it.” “But I doesn’t wish it, wife; if it’s to injure the dear child’s reputation. 1 . She’s as dear and good a ‘ vonng thing as any jn,the r w.orld; apd I’d tayther day’s SQjle o’ gohd| P-weekthhn give rise to a treholi.o^slander'oi'-Wlwißpa

No, no, old woman, that shan’t be if I can. help it; an’ I’ll tell yer what I’ve thought —she wants to go out into the world, to earn some money, she says, to pay her old father back for the advantages of edication he has given her, Noo I’ve allers set my face agin that, fearing the very thing that is like to happen to her before my very eyes. But now I’se of a'different opinion—she shall go if she wishes it; and I*ll trust to God and her own pure nature to protect her from all evil. So the pretty and amiable Maggie was permitted to follow her own bent, and accept the first opening as a nursery governess that should present itself to her. She had just been one twelvemonth in that capacity, with a family residing in the metropolis, when our story opens, •and it was her 4 first visit home that her doating parents were anticipating on this Christmas Eve. Chapter 11. “Deary me, Joe’s very late to-night,” said the carrier’s wife, going for the •dozenth time to the door to listen if the •heavy covered cart were within hearing. •“■l’m afraid that he's stopped dqon at ■ the “Bine Bell” again. I wish that you’d - gone with - him, maister. He’s -really not to be trusted on an occasion like this. Every one’s glad to see him; and one gives him a glass, and another, until fad’s more than half over before he’s done ‘ Merry Cbristmasing’ it. He‘ll be losing his money, or some such mischief; and then he’ll hev hosts o’ parcels to de- ’ liver when he does coome, that I don’t know what time we shall get tea if we hev to wait for him. Dear, dear, I wish that he’d hurry a bit.” “Whoay, doan’t thee be impatient, hoo;” said her husband. “Joe’s a good lad, an’ as steady as here an’ there one. Noa doobt he’s kept at the station, for them excursion trains makes sad havoc o’ Christmas railway time. Thee can get thee tea, if thee’s hungry. I’ll wait for him.” “They say that Leyburn’s lass is coming home for Christmas,” said Mrs Gibbs;-forgetting her impatience in the midden recollection of the news; “an Tie’ll come with Joe, of course, unless she’s too high an’ mighty to coome by the cart, after her twelvemonth of London. ‘ Lawk, what a fuss they do make V that girl, to he sure! It war a wainten piece ot affectation to make such a fine lady of her. See if they doan’t repent it some day—noo, mark my words.” “TI m’s jealous missus,” said the old Barrier, with a sly smile. “ Jealous, indeed!” replied Mrs Gibbs, with an indignant toss of the bead. “What should I be jealous of, pray? Haven’t I three as fine daughters as man or woman need to clap eyes on ?” “Ay, ay,” said Gibbs, “week enow. Though more nor one o’ them has given * thee pride a twitch, old lass.” To this homethrust Mrs Gibbs deigned no reply, hut she walked again to the •door, and listened for her son’s approach. This time She was not disappointed. The rumbling ofthe heavy cart was heard in the distance, and she immediately 'came in again, and began to bustle about 'her cooking preparations for tea, A huge dish df sausages was into the frying-pan, and quickly began to splutter and hiss over the hot red fire. She was . yet standing over her savoury task—both hands being engaged with "the pan and •turning-fork—when she was startled hv the laying of two heavy palms upon her Shoulders. Thinking it was her boisterous sop, she only gave a sharp remonstrance, and went on with her work, never turning her bead. “ Well, old girl! Haven’t yer a word to ■say to yerrespectedbrother, who’s coomed all the way from Lunnon to see yer?” was the next greeting that assailed her. . .“Lawk a massy me! Whoay if it ain’t Richard himsel!” said the surprised woman, turning quicklykat the wellknown voice . “ Ay, Richard ‘himsel, and no other man,” said that burly, good-humoured specimen of humanity, drawing up to his full height before her. “ Well now, to think of your cooming without saying riivcr a word! Why, •couldn’t yer write,.and let a body be prepared for yer ?” “ I wants no other ‘prepanitians ‘than that steaming pan of sausages and six feet o’ flock mattress, Becky. It's not particular about luxuries,yer knaws, and I _ expect ye’ll have a hit o’ dinner to give one, won’tye?” “ Ay, ay, ye’s welcome to aught we’ve got But where’s maister ? Does he knaw ye’ve coomed ?” “I seed him when first we -drew up,” replied Richard, ■“l’s a little business in this neighborhood, ye must know. And sod tbougbt*3’d come a atop out of my way to hev a sight o’ye. So that’s how it is ye see me without an invitation.”

_ '‘‘Lawk, Hichard, je wants no iimtatioD to come here, I hopes! Only I likes to knaw when yer 'coming. V/cll, -and how do yer lave the folks at whoam ? Sarah and the childer ?” “All well and hearty, ’’ replied Richard. “I’ve lots o’ love-and messages for yer.” “ Jfowt else ?” said. Mrs Gihhs with a laugh, for her brother seldom came emptyhanded f tom the great city. “Ay, a .fine rug ohawl, that Sarah spent half a day in choosing for yer; and a ; brawled comforter that our eldest lass hes knitted for her uncle.” . u Well noo,- that’s nice o’the bairn. He’ll be rare an’ glad of it this biting weather.. And the shawl is mighty acceptable, top, thanks 'to ye, brother. But sit doon and .warm yersel.' -I’ll go an* fetch yer luggage in, or,.doe 71 be locking it up i’ t’other toom ■ “•Ho’s a tftre load to-night, I can tell ye. to filf a barn,” said JjCtf Gibte'disappeared Quickly out of the. icom.

Many visitors to the village .besides the burly Richard Sanierson, had come in the carrier’s large covered cart, from -the little market tov. n that lay more than half a dozen miles off; and in the bustle and hubbub of friends- meeting, babies crying, and passengers looking out for their luggage, the carrier and his son were half bewildered. - “ Here, missus, come and help us, for goodness sake, for it’ll be morning afore we pick out the folks’ belongings,” said the carrier, backin off the pressing crowd with his stoutly squared elbows; “ I’ll be dashed if everybody hesn’t been, leaguing to make there packages as much like their neighbors as possible, just to give us a bit of extra trubble; as if we hadn’t enow at holiday times ! Here’s no end o’ small square hampers.” “ Let’s carry them all into the empty room, and sort them out there,” said Mrs. Gibbs, making off with her brother’s parcel. “Ay, ye may take all the hampers, mother; but I knows who the boxes and parcels belong to,” said Joe. “Ye’ll no deliver yer parcels afore we’ve had tea, Joe,” said his mother, authoritatively; “ we’ve waited long enow for yer. And here’s, yer uncle coomed now.” “ Ay, I knaws,” said Joe; “ didn’t I bring him ? But I say, mother, Leyburn’s lass isn’t coomed. What’ll the old folks say ? They’ll be nigh crazed.” “ Not coomed! ” said Mrs Gibbs. “Well, if ever! Didn’t I say——” “Well doan’t thee stand magging there missus, but help us clear this lumber off,’, said the carrier, cutting short her eloquence. “Here’s some game for the doctor ye can t ,ke in the house.” “ Well, Richard, what d’ye think 1 ” said Mrs Gibbs, laying her brother’s parcel on the table, and then lifting the doctor’s game to a hook on the lowbeamed ceiling. “ Leyburn’s lass hesn’t coomed, after writing to say she Wad spend Christmas with ’em. What’s up noo?” TO BE CONTINUED.