The Four Corners

"Yes, he is the person. Who is left on the list, Mary Lee?"

"Let me see. Mrs. Boggs, the boys, Mitty and Unc' Landy, ourselves, Aunt Helen and grandmother, if you say so."

Nan swept something from the trunk and hid it behind her. "I've something for you," she sang out.

"That's not fair," said Mary Lee, in an aggrieved tone. "You are right there and can pick out anything."

"Well," spoke up Jack, "grandmother sent it all to her."

"That's so, I forgot that," said Mary Lee, abashed.

"You know perfectly well that I wouldn't take anything unless the rest of you had share and share alike," said Nan, "and I'll tell you what we'll do; each one shall have a pick in turn: three grabs apiece and if we can't find anything we like we shall have to make something. How will that do?"

All agreed that this was not only fair but generous and one after another was sent out of the room while the choice for her was being made, and at last Nan shut the trunk and shoved it under the bed. "Hasn't it been fun?" she said. "I do feel so grateful to grandmother for sending over that trunk. Think what has come out of it. We never in the world could have given half the Christmas gifts nor nearly such nice ones. What shall we give the boys, Mary Lee?"

"I suppose they'd as soon have panuchee as anything."

"We can't all give them panuchee; they'll be ill if we do."

"Then we'll have to think up something; we've done enough planning for one day."

"I'm more bothered about Aunt Helen and grandmother than any one just now, to tell you the truth."

"One of them can have panuchee."

"Oh, Mary Lee, we aren't going to set up a candy factory."

"I know, but two or three goes of it will make enough to give a lot of people and everybody likes it."

"Well, as you say, we have done enough planning for one day. I am going over to see Aunt Helen now. I want to tell her what fun we had over the trunk and besides I know she will have some ideas for Christmas."

Each girl carried off her treasures and Nan set out for Uplands, but, before she had gone far, she came rushing back, rummaged for paper and pencil and started forth again wearing what was called the family cloak. This was a dark red golf cape which was worn indiscriminately by all the members of the family from Aunt Sarah down. The pointed hood upon it could be taken off, by unbuttoning it, and made a convenient pouch for the wearer who wished to bring home any chance spoils gathered by the way, so the cloak was always in demand.

It was a brisk winter's day, but too cold for a stop at Place o' Pines, though Nan turned aside to peep into her old shelter. As she turned from the spot, she gave a gleeful skip. "Joy, joy," she cried, "I have an idea!"

"So glad," said some one near her. "Where are you going, West Corner?" This was Ran's favorite name for her and it was he as she well knew.

"I am going to Uplands, but I came around this way to look for some little wee pine cones."

Ran appeared from behind a tree where he had been in hiding. "What are you going to do with little pine cones?" he asked.

"I want to use them on a picture frame for mother's Christmas gift. I have seen real pretty frames made of them. We shall have to get mother's Christmas box ready first and we have none too much time. We have been having lots of fun, Ran, planning out the presents we shall give. It will be rather a forlorn Christmas, I am afraid, with all we can do, for there will be no mother and you boys will not be here."

"That's where you are mistaken," said Ran soberly. "We shall be here. We are not going home after all."

"You're not? Oh, dear, I'm so sorry for you, though I am glad we shall be able to keep you; the more the merrier, you know. What is the matter at home, Ran?"

"My little sister, Leila, has scarlet fever, and, as soon as she is well enough, they are going to take her to Florida. That lets us out of any holiday at home either way. Father and mother wouldn't want us to be exposed to the danger of taking the fever, and, if Leila gets well before Christmas, they will leave anyhow."

"Isn't it just too bad? Well, we must try to have as jolly a time as we can. We are in something the same box, for we must do without our mother, too. There will be all sorts of parties and things going on in town, so maybe you will enjoy yourselves more than you think; still I am very sorry for you. Christmas anywhere except in one's own home and with one's own family can't help being sort of dreary."

Such sweet sympathy was consoling and Ran helped her to look for the pine cones which she put in the hood of her cloak to carry away. He promised to help her with the wooden framework upon which she was to glue the cones, and suggested a quadruple frame which would look more important than four small ones.

"But the glass will be harder to get," said Nan. "I have some old photograph plates that I was going to clean off and use for the small frames. Ammonia cleans them beautifully."

"I'll attend to getting the glass for you," promised Ran. "I know where there is a piece of glass that will just do." The glass was at the one frame-maker's in town and Ran meant to buy it, but he did not tell Nan so, knowing she would object. Nan told him about Jack's calendar and he offered not only to furnish the photograph they wanted but to take several more of interiors which could be scattered through the pages to give comfort and pleasure to the absent mother.

Never before had Ran been so kind and interested and when he left her at her grandmother's door Nan said: "I always wanted an older brother, Ran, to do just the things for me that you are going to do. It is a real comfort to know you are going to be here all through the holidays."

Her Aunt Helen gave her the warm greeting with which she always met this niece for whom she daily felt a deeper affection. Nan was so graciously appreciative, so winsomely enthusiastic, so spontaneously affectionate, that her aunt felt that of all her nieces she must always love her best. Nan first told of the pleasure they had been having in looking over and dividing the remaining articles of the trunk, and then she said, "There are two or three things I want to consult you about, Aunt Helen. We ought and want to give something to the boys, but boys are so hard to get things for, and when one has no money – " She stopped short with a blush. Never, except by accident, did she refer to this fact in the presence of her aunt and grandmother. "I mean," she went on, "it is much nicer to make something unless you can really buy something worth while, as mother says. There are four of us and there are two boys; that makes eight presents, you see."

"Truly that is quite a number to think of," said her aunt.

"Yes, it is. Mary Lee is going to give each of them a box of panuchee – I don't know what we should do this year if we didn't know how to make it – so that leaves six."

"We shall have to put on our thinking-caps," said Miss Helen, meditatively. "You could make a twine ball, for one thing; that is cheap and easy and boys always are glad of string."

"But it takes a ball of twine."

"I have several and shall be pleased to present you with a couple."

"But – "

"No buts, please, dear; it is such a very little thing."

"Oh, very well," Nan replied weakly, seeing it would hurt her aunt to refuse.

"Then I am sure there must be a silk handkerchief in that trunk."

"Of course there is. I never thought of that, and I saw it only to-day. Why that is half the eight already."

"Then – let me see – did you ever see a devil penwiper made from a wishbone? I'll show you how to make one. It costs nothing and that makes five, you see. I think a blotter always does very well to give a schoolboy."

Nan sighed. There would be blotting paper to be bought. Her aunt read her thought and did not insist upon this. "A burnt match-receiver can be easily made," she went on, "and it is nice to give things for a boy's room when he is away from home. There is a kind that is made by crocheting a cover over a goblet from which the stem has been broken."

"I am sure we can get that easily enough," laughed Nan. "I suppose worsted will do for the crocheted part, and I have some of that."

"Worsted is the proper thing. It will make a nice, useful present."

"There are only two more and they can be something very simple for the twins to give."

"Then a couple of little calendars will do. Two or three have come to us from advertising houses. We'll take off the advertisement and put the calendars on pretty cards. There are some in the trunk, aren't there? So now you have every one supplied."

"I knew you would help us out, you dearest Aunt Helen. Now, there is one thing more, and this is my own secret. I am going to give mother the photographs in a frame that I am going to make myself, though Ran will help me, but the others have so much nicer things and I would like to send her something that comes right from myself, from my inside heart, so" – she hesitated a moment. "You know," she went on shyly, "you said long ago you thought my little tune wasn't so bad and I thought I'd try to write some words that would go with the tune. Would you mind very much helping me a little to get it all right?"

"Why, darling girl, of course I shall be delighted to give you any help within my power, and it is a lovely thought, one I am sure your mother will appreciate."

"I thought of the beginning while I was coming over here, and I went back to get a paper and pencil, but Ran came along and I didn't have a chance to write it down."