Ben Pepper (Musaicum Christmas Specials). Sidney Margaret
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"You're a nice boy," said Ben, picking him off from his chair. "Now march, Joe," and he kept him well in front of him; and at last, there he was, and Madam Van Ruypen had taken his hand. But he didn't look at her.
"Well, at last you are all here," she was saying; "now I'm going to tell you what I wanted you for."
No one of the five little Peppers appeared to breathe, except Phronsie, who chirped out, "Oh, we've come all this way to see you!"
"Yes, yes, I know," said Madam Van Ruypen, who was vastly pleased at that, and she nodded her head, that had a ponderous affair of lace and jet upon it, down toward Phronsie; "but there was something I especially wanted of you, and I'll tell it in one word. You must choose the toys I'm going to send to some poor children." Without another word, she turned and swung the door wide to another room, and there, before their entranced eyes, was toyland!
Joel took one look, and howled out, "Oh, I will; let me; let me!" bounding in.
"So you shall," said Madam Van Ruypen, laughing heartily. "There, get in there, all of you, and set to work."
There was no need to tell them this, and they were soon running about, not pausing long in any spot, for the attractions overflowed on tables and chairs, and even the carpet appeared to be covered with the best specimens of toys from all the shops in town. But Phronsie went directly over and sat down in front of a big doll, and gazed at her without a word.
"Oh, it's just like Gallagher's," cried Polly, flying about with sparkling eyes, and she clasped her hands. "Oh, what richness!"
"Hoh, it's better than Gallagher's," retorted Joel, in scorn, who had always thought that shop was the very finest place imaginable. "Dave, here's the steam-engine, the very one!" he cried, spying it in a corner.
Madam Van Ruypen laughed again, and this time it seemed as if she were not going to stop. And pretty soon the whole room looked as if Santa Claus himself had been there with his load, while as for the babel of voices,—well, it was exactly like a flock of blackbirds all chattering together.
"You said they were going to poor children," said Polly, at last, flying up to the tall figure that now it seemed as if they had known all their lives. "Oh, do tell us about it."
"So I will." Madam Van Ruypen swept off the articles from a big easy-chair, preparatory to sitting down.
"Let me!" said Ben, coming up in his slow way. But the toys were half off, and Polly had gathered up the rest, and the big figure was already in the chair.
"You see," she began—
"Oh, would you please wait?" begged Polly, in great distress, looking over across the room where Joel and David were deep in the charms of some mechanical toy.
"Yes, to be sure," said Madam Van Ruypen, good naturedly, while Polly ran over to them. "Boys, come!" she cried hurriedly.
"Something's the matter with this pig," said Joel, not looking at her, and fussing with the animal in question.
"Well, put it down," said Polly, impatiently. "She's going to tell us what she wants us to do."
"Then Dave'll get my pig," said Joel, with one eye askance at that individual.
"Oh, no, he won't touch it; will you, Davie?" said Polly. "Do put it down, Joe, and come along."
"No, I won't," said David, "touch it a single bit." So Joel laid the pig carefully down, and the two boys hurried after Polly.
Madam Van Ruypen now began again.
"Phronsie ought to hear," said Joel, as he crowded up.
"Hush," said Ben, looking over at her where she still sat absorbed in the big doll; "you let her be, Joel, and keep still."
"I have had so much trouble over every Christmas," said Madam Van Ruypen, proceeding briskly, "selecting presents for some children I happen to know about, who ought to have them, that really I sometimes wish there wasn't any Christmas."
Wish there wasn't any Christmas! Every one of the Peppers who heard those direful words tumbled back in dismay and gazed at her in amazement.
"I really did, but I don't now!" Madam Van Ruypen drew a long breath, then she laughed again. "Well, here we are, and this Christmas I mean to have an easy time, for I'm not to select a single thing myself, but put all the responsibility on you young people."
"Do you really mean," cried Polly Pepper, crowding up quite closely, with flushed cheeks, "that we can pick out the toys and things for you to give to your poor children? Oh, do you mean it?"
"To be sure, bless you, yes; why, that is just why I got you over here, and what I've had this room turned into a toy-shop for." She waved her long, white hands over at the array.
"Oh, oh, Joel," Polly seized the arm next to her and gave it a little tweak, "do begin, for she wants us to pick out the things she is to send to the poor children. I'm going to choose that work-box, and that backgammon board, and—" and Polly ran off and was deep in a dozen things at once.
"Hoh, I'm not," said Joel, who couldn't bear backgammon; "I'm going to choose my pig, when I fix him so he'll squeak, and my steam-engine. Yes, sir! that's the best of all."
And immediately the entire room was in a bustle.
Ben turned off with the others, but presently came slowly back to stand a minute at Madam Van Ruypen's chair, where she sat with folded hands.
"Well, what is it?" she asked, looking up into his face.
"Were you picking out toys for the poor children when we saw you yesterday?" asked Ben, looking at her steadily.
"Dear me, yes; what do you suppose could have induced me to go into such a mob?" cried Madam Van Ruypen.
"Oh!" said Ben, then he turned back and set to work on doing what he could to pick out the things he should want if he were really a poor boy, not likely to get presents in any other way.
But the nicest of all things, so he thought,—thick boots, mittens, and fur tippets to keep out the cold,—were not there, and he stifled a sigh, and gave his mind to do the best he could under the circumstances.
"Something is the matter, I see." He didn't know it, but there the old lady was, close by his side, and the next words showed clearly that she had discovered what was on his mind.
"Out with it, Ben,—for that's your name, I believe."
"Yes," said Ben, "it is."
"Well, you might as well tell me, for I see very plainly that you don't think I've had the right things sent up from the stores. What would you send to poor children for their Christmas?"
"I think a boy would like a pair of boots," said Ben, slowly; then he came to the conclusion that he might as well tell the whole, "or a thick coat, or some mittens, and a tippet."
"But those wouldn't be Christmas presents; those are everyday things," said the old lady, sharply.
"They