about the house. Now this Christmas dinner had been much talked of; for certain charitable and patriotic persons had endeavored to provide every hospital in Washington with materials for this time-honored feast. Some mistake in the list sent to headquarters, some unpardonable neglect of orders, or some premeditated robbery, caused the long-expected dinner in Wilson Hospital to prove a dead failure; but to which of these causes it was attributable was never known. The deepest mystery enveloped the sad situation.
The full weight of the dire disappointment was mercifully lightened by premonitions of the impending blow. Barney was often missing, for the attendants were to dine en masse after the patients were done. Therefore a speedy banquet for the latter parties was ardently desired, and he probably devoted his energies to goading on the cooks. From time to time he appeared in the doorway, flushed and breathless, made some thrilling announcement, and vanished, leaving ever-increasing appetite, impatience, and expectation behind him.
Dinner was to be served at one. At half-past twelve Barney proclaimed, "There ain't no vegetables but squash and pitaters." A universal groan arose, and several indignant parties on a short allowance of meat consigned the defaulting cook to a warmer climate than the tropical one he was then enjoying. At twenty minutes to one, Barney increased the excitement by whispering, ominously, "I say, the puddings aren't very good."
"Fling a pillow at him and shut the door, Ben," roared one irascible being, while several others not fond of puddings received the fact with equanimity. At quarter to one, Barney piled up the agony by adding the bitter information, ''There isn't but two turkeys for this ward, and they's little fellers."
Anxiety instantly appeared in every countenance, and intricate calculations were made as to how far the two fowls would go when divided among thirty men. Also friendly warnings were administered to several of the feebler gentlemen not to indulge too freely, if at all, for fear of relapses from overeating. Once more did the bird of evil omen return, for at ten minutes to one, Barney croaked through the keyhole, "Only half of the pies has come, gentlemen." That capped the climax, for the masculine palate has a predilection for pastry, and mince pie was the sheet anchor to which all had clung when other hopes went down.
Even Ben looked dismayed; not that he expected anything but the perfume and pickings for his share, but he had set his heart on having the dinner, an honor to the institution and a memorable feast for the men so far away from home, and all that usually makes the day a festival among the poorest. He looked pathetically grave as Turner began to fret, Sam began to swear under his breath, Hayward to sigh, Joe to wish it was all over, and the rest to vent their emotions with a freedom that was anything but inspiring. At that moment, Miss Hale came in with a great basket of apples and oranges in one hand, and several useful looking bottles in the other.
"Here is our dessert, boys! A kind friend remembered us, and we will drink her health in her own cider."
A feeble smile circulated around the room, and, in some sanguine bosoms, hope revived again. Ben briskly emptied the basket while Miss Hale whispered to Joe:
"I knew you would be glad to get away from the confusion of this next hour to enjoy a breath of fresh air and dine quietly with Mrs. Burton 'round the corner, wouldn't you?"
"Oh, Ma'am, so much! The noise, the smells, the fret and flurry make me sick just to think of! But how can I go? That dreadful ambulance 'most killed me last time, and I'm weaker now."
"My dear boy, I have no thought of trying that again till our ambulances are made fit for the use of weak and wounded men. Mrs. Burton's carriage is at the door, with her motherly self inside, and all you have got to do is to let me bundle you up and Ben carry you out."
With a sigh of relief Joe submitted to both these processes, and when his nurse watched his happy face as the carriage slowly rolled away, she felt well repaid for the little sacrifice of rest and pleasure so quietly made; for Mrs. Burton had come to carry her, not Joe, away.
"Now, Ben, help me to make this unfortunate dinner go off as well as we can," she whispered. "On many accounts it is a mercy that the men are spared the temptations of a more generous meal. Pray don't tell them so, but make the best of it, as you know very well how to do."
"I'll try my best, Miss Hale, but I'm no less disappointed, because some of 'em, being no better than children, have been living on the thoughts of it for a week; and it comes hard to give it up."
If Ben had been an old-time patriarch, and the thirty boys his sons, he could not have spoken with a more paternal regret, or gone to work with a better will. Putting several small tables together in the middle of the room, he left Miss Hale to make a judicious display of plates, knives, and forks, while he departed for the banquet. Presently he returned, bearing the youthful turkeys and the vegetables in his tray, followed by Barney, carrying a plum pudding baked in a milk pan and six very small pies. Miss Hale played a lively march as the procession approached, and, when the viands were arranged, with the red and yellow fruit prettily heaped up in the middle, it really did look like a dinner.
"Here's richness! Here's the delicacies of the season and the comforts of life!" said Ben, falling back to survey the table with as much apparent satisfaction as if it had been a lord mayor's feast.
"Come, hurry up, and give us our dinner; what there is of it!" grumbled Sam.
"Boys," continued Ben, beginning to cut up the turkeys, "these noble birds have been sacrificed for the defenders of their country. They will go as far as ever they can, and when they can't go any further, we shall endeavor to supply their deficiencies with soup or ham, oysters having given out unexpectedly. Put it to a vote. Both have been provided on this joyful occasion, and a word will fetch either."
"Ham! Ham!" resounded from all sides. Soup was an everyday affair, and therefore repudiated with scorn; but ham, being a rarity, was accepted as a proper reward of merit and a tacit acknowledgement of their wrongs.
The "noble birds" did go as far as possible, and were handsomely assisted by their fellow martyr. The pudding was not as good as could have been desired, but a slight exertion of fancy made the crusty knobs do duty for raisins. The pies were small, yet a laugh added flavor to the mouthful apiece; for when Miss Hale asked Ben to cut them up, that individual regarded her with an inquiring aspect as he said, in his drollest tone:
"I wouldn't wish to appear stupid, Ma'am, but when you mention 'pies,' I presume you allude to these trifles. ‘Tarts’ or ‘patties’ would meet my views better, in speaking of the third course of this lavish dinner. As such, I will do my duty by 'em, hoping that the appetites are to match."
Carefully dividing the six pies into twenty-nine diminutive wedges, he placed each in the middle of a large clean plate and handed them about with the gravity of an undertaker. Dinner had restored good humor to many; this hit at the pies put the finishing touch to it. And from that moment, an atmosphere of jollity prevailed. Healths were drunk in cider; apples and oranges flew about as an impromptu game of ball was got up; Miss Hale sang a Christmas carol; and Ben gamboled like a sportive giant as he cleared dishes away. Pausing in one of his prances to and fro, he beckoned the nurse out, and when she followed, handed her a plate heaped up with good things from a better table than she ever sat at now.
"From the matron, Ma'am. Come right in here and eat it while it's hot; they are most through in the dining room, and you'll get nothing half so nice," said Ben, leading the way into his pantry and pointing to a sunny window seat.
"Are you sure she meant it for me and not for yourself, Ben?"
"Of course she did! Why, what should I do with it, when I've just been feastin' sumptuous in this very room?"
"I don't exactly see what you have been feasting on,"
