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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Little Mixer, by Lillian Nicholson Shearon
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Little Mixer
+
+Author: Lillian Nicholson Shearon
+
+Release Date: June 14, 2007 [EBook #21830]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LITTLE MIXER ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Edwards and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was
+produced from scans of public domain material produced by
+Microsoft for their Live Search Books site.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE LITTLE MIXER
+
+
+
+_By_
+
+LILLIAN NICHOLSON SHEARON
+
+
+
+INDIANAPOLIS
+THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY
+PUBLISHERS
+
+
+Copyright, 1922
+By The Bobbs-Merrill Company
+
+
+_Printed in the United States of America._
+
+
+PRESS OF
+BRAUNWORTH & CO.
+BOOK MANUFACTURERS
+BROOKLYN, N.Y.
+
+
+
+
+THE LITTLE MIXER
+
+
+
+
+There was no fault to be found with the present itself; the trouble lay
+in the method of transportation. This thought was definite enough in
+Hannah's mind, but she had to rely upon a seven-year-old vocabulary for
+expression, and grown-ups are notably dull of comprehension. Even
+mothers don't always understand without being told exactly in so many
+words.
+
+"I didn't say the kimono wasn't nice, Mama," explained Hannah, "and
+'course Cousin Carrie was awful good to send it to me, but--but Santy
+Claus is going to bring Virginia one to-morrow night, _down the
+chimbley_!"
+
+Rose Joseph slipped the absurd little garment over her daughter's dainty
+lingerie frock, and stood her on a chair that she might view herself in
+the narrow mirror between the windows of the living-room. The child was
+as lovely as a flower, but vanity was still sound asleep in her soul,
+and she glanced indifferently at the reflection, her body sagging with
+disappointment. "It is just like those little Japanese girls wear," her
+mother cried in that over-enthusiastic adult tone which warns a child he
+is about to be the recipient of a gold brick. "I am sure Virginia's
+can't be any nicer than this one!"
+
+"But, Mama, Santy Claus is going bring hers _down the chimbley_.
+Mine"--her voice dropped to a mournful key--"mine came _through the
+door_!"
+
+"But, darling, what difference does that make just so you get it?"
+
+Pity for her mother's barren childhood shone in Hannah's soft black
+eyes. "That's--that's no way for presents to come," she explained;
+"Mama, it's Chris'mus."
+
+"It is Chanuca," Mrs. Joseph responded firmly. "Remember you are a
+Jewess, dear."
+
+"I can't never forget it," said the child with a catch in her voice,
+"'specially at Chris'mus."
+
+"But, darling, the Jewish children have Chanuca; it comes about the same
+time as Christmas, and amounts to the same thing."
+
+Hannah shook her bronze curls. "Chanuca is because the children of
+Israel took Jerusalem and the temple away from the bad people," she
+recited glibly, "and--and you say prayers, and light candles--eight
+days, and--and all your uncles and aunts and cousins send you things,
+but Santy Claus, he don't pay any 'tention to Chanuca. Chris'mus is just
+one day, and Santy Claus comes down the chimbley and brings things to
+all good children--'cept little Jews--because it is the birthday of our
+Saviour."
+
+Mrs. Joseph was silent so long that Hannah felt she had convinced her
+mother of the superiority of the Gentile Christmas over the Jewish
+Chanuca, and she continued more in detail. "And the children's kinfolks
+just give Santy Claus money, and tell him what to buy, and he brings the
+presents, and nobody has to bother about it 'cept him."
+
+"Hannah," Mrs. Joseph interrupted coldly, "who told you about the
+birthday of--of the Saviour?"
+
+"Nellie Halloran," answered Hannah, "and Virginia, too. They've--they've
+got the same one."
+
+"The same what?"
+
+"The same Saviour," Hannah explained.
+
+"Darling, hasn't Mama told you many times, that you must never, never
+talk about religion to Nellie and Virginia?"
+
+"Oh, we don't, Mama, never, never! But 'course we got to talk about
+Santy Claus, and things."
+
+There seemed to be no reasonable objection to that, so Mrs. Joseph
+dropped the subject. She spent a great deal of time folding the despised
+and rejected kimono into its tissue-paper wrappings. Presently she
+brought a narrow parcel from another room.
+
+"See what Uncle Aaron has sent you, dear," she cried gaily. "A little
+man; you wind him up in the back with this key--so--and then he dances
+and plays the fiddle!"
+
+Hannah forced a polite giggle at the little man's antics. He too rested
+under the ban of having come "through the door," and her attention soon
+wandered.
+
+"Nellie got a jumping-jack in the very top of her stocking last
+Chris'mus; 'cause she's such a jumping-jack herself, her papa said. You
+know, Mama, Santy Claus puts nuts and candy, and _little_ things in your
+stocking and puts your big things all around the room. Sometimes he
+brings a tree and hangs them all on a tree. Virginia and Nellie want a
+tree and a new doll. Virginia gets a new doll every Chris'mus, and she's
+got every doll Santy ever brought her--even her little, baby, rubber
+doll. She's eight years old and will have eight dolls! But Nellie
+ain't--hasn't saved a single one, and she's scared she won't get one
+this Chris'mus--awful scared."
+
+"Why, dear?" asked Mrs. Joseph, when Hannah paused for breath.
+
+"Because the doll Santy brought Nellie last Chris'mus, you know what?
+She was playing Indian with her brother one day, and _chopped her head
+off_! And Nellie's mama says she don't know whether old Santy's going to
+forget that or _not_! But Nellie, she says she prays hard to the Virgin
+Mary every night--if she don't go to sleep too quick. Mama, what's a
+virgin? Mama, what's----"
+
+"A virgin is a lady who has never been married," answered Mrs. Joseph,
+putting the neglected musician back into his box.
+
+Hannah wrestled alone for a moment with a mighty ecclesiastical problem,
+and then gave it up.
+
+"The Virgin Mary is God's mother," Hannah continued. "That's her picture
+over our fireplace,"--pointing to a copy of a crude thirteenth century
+Madonna and Child in a carved Gothic frame, which Eli and Rose Joseph
+had bought in Italy while on their wedding trip. Flanked now by candles
+burning in silver candelabra in honor of Chanuca, it gave the mantel a
+passing resemblance to a Catholic shrine.
+
+"I don't think God's mother is very pretty, do you, Mama? And I think
+Nellie's little brother is a heap prettier'n God was when He was a
+baby."
+
+Mrs. Joseph showed signs of having reached the limit. "Hannah," she said
+firmly, "it is time you were in bed."
+
+"But, Papa hasn't come home yet."
+
+"Papa will be late to-night, dear."
+
+"The Chris'mus rush," sighed Hannah. "Mama, you haven't looked down my
+throat to-day," she added, playing for time.
+
+Mrs. Joseph went through the daily ritual. "It looks all right," she
+pronounced.
+
+"It _is_ all right," came the triumphant answer. "It is never going to
+be sore again. Virginia says----"
+
+"Never mind what Virginia says. If your throat ever hurts you the least
+little bit, you are to come to me instantly and tell me. Do you
+understand?"
+
+"Yes, Mama, but it isn't going to hurt any more," Hannah insisted.
+
+"Come on up-stairs to bed."
+
+Still Hannah hung back. She had not played her trump card yet, and the
+time was short. She caught her mother's slim white hand in hers and
+fingered nervously at the rings. "Mama," she almost whispered, "Virginia
+says it's Jewish mamas' fault that Santy Claus don't come to see Jewish
+children. If the mamas would just go to Santy and _tell_ him to
+come--You will, won't you, Mama? _Please, Mama!_"
+
+"Hannah, not another word about Christmas and Santy
+Claus--not--another--word!"
+
+Hannah swallowed something that came in her throat, and bravely winked
+back her tears. "Can't Mandy put me to bed?"
+
+"No, dear; Mandy is busy in the kitchen. Mama will put you to bed and
+tell you stories." She bent down and kissed the child tenderly.
+
+Hannah flung her arms about her mother's neck. She loved the feel of the
+soft throat and the gently curving bosom against her little cheek, and
+the fragrance of her mother's hair and silken laces. She didn't know
+that her mother looked like a portrait by Raphael, but she did know that
+her mama was the prettiest, sweetest mama in all the world; and yet--
+
+"Mama, I'm so tired of stories about the children of Israel. They never
+did anything funny. Mandy tells me tales about the old plantashun, when
+her ma was a slave, and about ole Marse, and ole Mis' going to town and
+giving Santy Claus money so's he'd bring beads and 'juice' harps and
+things to the little niggers; and he never forgot one, from the biggest
+to the littlest darky, Santy didn't."
+
+The child's body began to tremble with repressed sobs. "I--I wisht I was
+a--a little darky! It's--it's awful--sad to be a little Jewish child at
+Chris'mus time."
+
+And then the storm broke.
+
+Two hours later Eli Joseph's tired step sounded on the veranda, and Rose
+hurried to admit him, lifting a silencing hand as soon as he had crossed
+the threshold. "Hannah has just gone to sleep," she whispered. "No--no,
+she's not sick at all." He placed an arm around her and drew her into
+the library.
+
+"Eli, your overcoat is wet," she exclaimed, untwining her arms from his
+neck.
+
+"Snow," he said, his good-looking boyish face lighting up with pleasure.
+"It seems we are to have a white Christmas after all."
+
+"Christmas!" she cried; "I wish I could never hear that word again."
+
+"Well, I'm glad it comes only once a year. To-night ends my siege,
+though. To-morrow night Stein goes on duty, and I come home for dinner
+to stay. Rose, darling, you look all tired out. You shouldn't wait up
+for me."
+
+"It isn't that. It's Hannah. She cried for more than an hour to-night,
+and but for Mandy and her tales I believe she would still be crying."
+And she detailed the scene to him.
+
+"But, good gracious, Rose, let Santa Claus bring her presents to her,"
+said Eli, when she had finished. "Hannah's nothing but a baby."
+
+"She is beginning to think for herself."
+
+"As you did at a very early age," he reminded her, "and your father the
+strictest of orthodox rabbis. How old were you when you began slipping
+off to the reformed temple?"
+
+"I broke my father's heart," she said somberly. "I'll be punished
+through Hannah."
+
+"Not unless you let Hannah think faster than you do. And remember," he
+added teasingly, "if you hadn't run off to the reformed temple you would
+never have met me."
+
+"Outside, at the foot of the steps," she recalled. "I would never have
+met you inside."
+
+"Maybe I am lax," he acknowledged, "but it seems to me that if you are
+living a decent life yourself, and giving the other fellow a square
+deal, you are pretty nearly fulfilling the law and the prophets."
+
+"And what do you suppose is happening to Hannah with a Christian Science
+family on one side and Roman Catholics on the other?" she demanded
+tragically. "She's decided not to take any more medicine, because
+Virginia Lawrence doesn't. And she has Nellie Halloran's every
+expression about the Virgin and the Saviour. Not only that, but she has
+made friends with a Christian Science practitioner through the
+Lawrences, and calls him 'my friend Mr. Jackson.' She runs to meet him
+and walks the length of the block with him every time he passes."
+
+"Hannah is certainly a natural born mixer," laughed the father. "We are
+saving ourselves trouble by giving her the best there is to mix with!"
+
+"Eli, I am afraid we made a mistake moving out here, away from all our
+people."
+
+"No, we didn't make a mistake," he declared earnestly. "The Square was
+no place to bring up Hannah, among those parvenu Jews. We have the
+prettiest home on the heights and the best people in town for
+neighbors."
+
+"Our child is losing her identity as a Jewess."
+
+"Let her find it again as an American," he replied. "Frankly, Rose, I
+don't lose any sleep over trying to keep _my_ identity as a Jew intact.
+If a Jew doesn't like it here, let him go back to Palestine or to the
+country that oppressed him, I say. I've got the same amount of patience
+with these hyphenated Americans as I have with the Jews who try to
+segregate themselves and dot the map with New Jerusalems. Where's the
+sense in throwing yourself into the melting-pot, glad of the chance, and
+then kicking because you come out something different?--Come on to bed,
+dear; you are as pale as a ghost, and I'm so tired I can't see straight.
+Our baby is all right. Don't you worry."
+
+                    *      *      *      *      *
+
+Snow falls on the just and the unjust. There was quite as much of it in
+Hannah's back yard as in either Virginia's or Nellie's--perhaps even a
+little more had drifted into the fence corners. Hannah's joy in
+discovering that in this respect she had not been slighted crowded her
+troubles into the background. Immediately after breakfast, bundled up
+snugly, she stood in her yard and threw snowballs toward her neighbors'
+homes, while she squealed with delight. In a very few minutes, three
+little girls were playing where only one had played before.
+
+The two newcomers, Virginia Lawrence and Nellie Halloran, presented an
+interesting contrast. Virginia, slim, and tall for her age, with long,
+flat, yellow braids, handled the snow daintily, even gingerly. Nellie,
+fat and dimpled, her curls tousled into a flame colored halo, rolled
+over and over in the snow, and then shook herself like a puppy. Until
+the advent of Hannah, a subtle antagonism had existed between the two
+children. Virginia's favorite game was playing "lady" with a train
+floating gracefully behind her; Nellie's chief joy in life was seeing
+how long she could stand on her head, her short skirts obeying the laws
+of gravity all the while. Hannah, however, vibrated obligingly between
+the two sports, and kept the peace inviolate.
+
+Romping in the snow is hard play, and presently the little girls sat
+panting on the top step of the Josephs' back porch. Immediately Nellie
+produced a string of amethyst colored beads from her coat pocket, with
+the announcement that she would say her prayers while resting.
+
+"What kind of beads are those?" asked Hannah.
+
+"Rosary beads, 'course," responded Nellie. "Hannah, you don't know
+anything."
+
+"I do, too."
+
+"Huh! you didn't even know about the Mother o' God until I told you."
+
+"I reckon I thought God was an orphan," Hannah pleaded in extenuation.
+"But, what about God's papa?" she demanded with sudden inspiration.
+"You're so smarty, tell me about that!"
+
+"Oh, God didn't have to have a father," Nellie answered easily.
+"Everything is free in Heaven; so He didn't have to have a father to
+work for Him when He was little."
+
+"Then why did He have to have a mama?"
+
+"To tell Him what to do, 'course. You know how 'tis. If you ask your
+papa anything, don't he always say, 'Go ask your mama'?"
+
+Hannah had noticed this shifting of masculine responsibility more than
+once. "That's so," she acquiesced. Then a terrible thought struck her.
+"I don't want to go to Heaven! I don't want to go anywhere unless my
+papa can go too."
+
+Nellie's nimble Irish wits were ready. "I just said _God_ didn't need
+any papa. 'Course _our_ papas will go to Heaven, 'cause that's the only
+place they can quit working. Didn't I hear my papa say one time he hoped
+he'd get a little rest in Heaven, 'cause he never got any on this
+earth?"
+
+"But, you have to die before you can get to Heaven," sighed Hannah.
+
+Virginia, who had been maintaining a most dignified silence, looked as
+if she must speak or explode. "No you don't. Heaven begins here and
+now," she recited. "If you are good, you are well and happy, and that's
+Heaven."
+
+"'Tisn't," scoffed Nellie. "Do you see any angels flying 'round in this
+here yard? I don't."
+
+Hannah rather took to Virginia's argument, and resolved to have
+conversation with her some time, undampened by Nellie's skepticism. If
+there could be feasting on the joys of Heaven here and now, Hannah had
+every intention of being at the banquet table. At the present moment,
+however, the rosary beads were of fascinating interest; she must hold
+them in her own hands, and watch the play of purple lights upon the snow
+as she flashed them in the sun. Questions about the crucifix, she found,
+brought on an embarrassing silence. Nellie looked at Virginia. Virginia
+looked at Nellie. Then the two excused themselves for a whispered
+colloquy at the other end of the yard. When they returned, Virginia
+acted as spokesman, fixing Nellie with an unrelenting eye.
+
+"That is Jesus nailed to the cross, Hannah. Some very wicked people did
+it."
+
+There was nothing exciting in this to Hannah; wicked people were doing
+wicked things the world over, all the time. The statement fell flat, and
+Nellie, disappointed at the lack of dramatic effect, broke treaty. "I
+'spect the Jews did it," she said.
+
+"They did not!" Hannah's voice trembled. "The Jews are nice people; they
+wouldn't do a wicked thing like that!"
+
+Virginia put an arm across Hannah's shoulders. "Now see what you've
+done," she snapped at Nellie.
+
+"Oh, I 'spect the Irish helped them," Nellie added magnanimously. "My
+papa says the Irish are into every thing."
+
+Not having to bear the ignominy alone Hannah was comforted. "What makes
+you say prayers on the beads?" she asked.
+
+"'Cause I want Santy to bring me a doll to-night. I wrote him 'bout
+sixteen letters, and I'm going to say my rosary a dozen times to-day."
+
+To-morrow was Christmas Day! Hannah's face fell. All her sorrows
+returned with a rush. "Have you got any more of those beads?" she asked.
+
+"Yes, but they wouldn't do you any good," Nellie answered with quick
+understanding. "You're not a Catholic."
+
+"Couldn't I be one?"
+
+"Not unless you're baptized with holy water. The priest does it."
+
+The leaven had begun to work.
+
+"What did your mama say about asking Santa Claus to come?" Virginia
+inquired, with a quick glance toward the beads.
+
+Hannah shook her head, speechless. She compressed her lips into a tight
+line with an effort at self-control, but two large tears rolled down her
+cheeks and splashed on her scarlet coat. Again Virginia placed an arm
+protectingly across Hannah's shoulder.
+
+Nellie's bright blue eyes grew soft with pity. "I tell you what," she
+exclaimed. "I'll baptize Hannah, then she'll be a Gentile, and Santa
+Claus will come, no matter what. And when your mama sees how nice it is,
+she won't care."
+
+"But, you said a priest has to baptize anybody," objected Virginia.
+
+"He does 'less it's a time of danger and you can't get any priest. Then
+any Catholic can baptize anybody. My mama baptized our washerwoman's
+little baby 'cause they knew it was going to die before Father Murphy
+could get there. And ain't this a time of danger?"
+
+"Nobody's dying." Virginia was distressingly literal.
+
+Hannah looked from one friend to the other, hoping against hope.
+
+"No, but there's danger Santa Claus won't come to see Hannah less'n
+sump'n is done mighty quick," came Nellie's ready reply. "And can we get
+a priest? You go get one, Virginia. Go get one."
+
+Clearly there was no answer to this. The ceremony was set for early
+afternoon when Grandmother Halloran took her nap and Nellie could borrow
+the bottle of holy water from her shelf. As to the place, there were six
+boys at the Hallorans' always in the way; Mrs. Lawrence had guests;
+obviously the baptismal rite would have to be performed at Hannah's
+home. After lunch the children assembled in the sun parlor of the
+Josephs' home, in full view of Mrs. Joseph who sat embroidering in the
+library, the French door closed between them, so that she did not hear.
+
+Nellie had secured the bottle of holy water, and, arrayed in her brother
+Joe's long, black rain-coat, a towel about her neck for a stole, acted
+as priest. Virginia, not to be left out of such an important affair,
+consented to be godmother. In lieu of a prayer manual, Nellie used one
+of Hannah's story books. She chose a verse, which, because she knew it
+by heart, she could read exceptionally well:
+
+    "Little boy blue, come blow your horn,
+    The sheep are in the meadow,
+    And the cows are in the corn."
+
+Then she poured a little of the holy water on Hannah's forehead (wet
+hair might occasion unanswerable questions) and baptized her "Hannah
+Agnes Ignatius Joseph."
+
+Called upon for a response, the godmother recited very impressively the
+Scientific Statement of Being as found in the Christian Science
+text-book, and Hannah was pronounced a Gentile and a Catholic.
+
+One thing more remained to be done. Hannah ran to her mother, cheeks
+aglow. "Mama, may I trade my striped ball to Nellie for some beads?"
+
+"Why of course, darling, if you wish."
+
+The exchange was made, and some time was spent in mastering the use of
+the rosary. All three of the children knew the "Our Father," though
+there was some difference of opinion as to "debts" and "trespasses"
+which is apt to hold in all mixed congregations. The "Hail Mary" proved
+a bit difficult for Hannah, and she finally abandoned it. "I'll say,
+'Hear, oh Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is One,'" she said. "I
+already know that, and a prayer is a prayer, isn't it?"
+
+Nellie refilled the holy-water bottle from the kitchen hydrant, and
+hurried home to replace it before her grandmother should awaken. Hannah
+spent the next hour lying flat on her stomach printing letters,
+appealing to Virginia from time to time for aid as to the spelling,
+Virginia being a very superior speller.
+
+Mrs. Joseph was busy with callers when Virginia went home, and Hannah
+was left to her own devices. Suddenly she thought of one stone that had
+been left unturned: there was her friend Mr. Jackson to whom the
+Lawrences always appealed in time of stress. She knew the formula, she
+knew his number, for on the list by the Lawrences' telephone, his name,
+like Abou-ben-Adhem's, led all the rest. "Main 1234," it was as easy as
+counting. She slipped into the telephone closet and closed the door.
+
+There was no trouble with Hannah that night. She went to bed early, and
+didn't care to have any stories told--she could go to sleep by herself.
+
+"Quite a change of heart, eh?" Eli commented to Rose, as they sat by the
+living-room fire after telling their little girl good night.
+
+"She has been like that all day, playing as happily as you please," Rose
+responded. "I suppose she got it all out of her system in last night's
+scene."
+
+Eli drummed abstractedly on the arm of his chair: "I don't feel quite
+right about it, even so," he said.
+
+"Maybe you will think me inconsistent," she confessed, flushing, "but
+Hannah was so indifferent about the presents sent her for Chanuca, I
+only showed her two. I've saved the others to give her Christmas Day, so
+she will have something of her own to show when the other children bring
+theirs over."
+
+Eli didn't seem any too pleased. "Poor little mite," he murmured.
+
+                    *      *      *      *      *
+
+"His-st! Missis Joseph!"
+
+It was Bridget, the Hallorans' old family servant, calling softly from
+the hall.
+
+"I'll be after takin' the prisints ye've stored away for us. I'll lave
+'em on the back porch 'n' carry 'em over when the childer are all
+asleep. Nellie's in bed like a little angel, bless 'er heart, but them
+divilish b'ys do be a-snoopin' into ivery crack 'n' corner!"
+
+Mrs. Joseph unlocked a closet under the stairs, and loaded Bridget's
+arm's with heavy and bulky parcels.
+
+"Shure, an' 'tis a sad Chris'mus we'll be havin', savin' the childer.
+Mr. Timmy, him that's old Missis Halloran's youngest, but old enough to
+know better, he ups an' runs away to-day an' marries a Protestant
+gir-rl. An' if ye'll open y'r windy the bit av a crack, ye'll hear the
+poor old lady this minit, wailin' like a banshee."
+
+"But Mr. Timothy is such a nice young man, he must have married a lovely
+girl, Bridget," said Rose.
+
+"Shure, an' that may be, but she is a Protestant, Missis Joseph. She
+runs away fr'm her folks, an' he runs away fr'm his, an' they get
+married by a justice o' peace. An' no peace will come o' such doin',
+Lord 've mercy on their souls!"
+
+"Oh, poor Grandma Halloran!"
+
+"Poor lovers," said Eli, when Bridget had gone. "I'll wager they had the
+very deuce of a time with both sides."
+
+No sooner had they settled themselves again than the door knocker
+sounded. Eli admitted Mr. Jackson, the Christian Science practitioner.
+
+"I have only a minute," he said. "I just dropped by to leave a doll my
+wife dressed for your little girl. We chose one that we thought looked
+like Hannah."
+
+"Oh, but that is kind of you!" Rose looked her gratitude. "Mrs. Lawrence
+has told me how busy both you and your wife always are--and to take time
+to think of our little girl----!"
+
+"I had intended to give it to her myself," Mr. Jackson continued, "but
+after her talk with me to-day I decided she would enjoy it more if I
+asked Santa Claus to bring it." His eyes twinkled reminiscently. "She
+called me up by telephone and asked me to give Santa Claus a
+treatment--she seemed to think that he would pass her by. I could assure
+her that he wouldn't, as I had already seen the doll. Hannah is a
+wonderful child."
+
+"We think so," smiled Eli. "I am sure we thank you, and wish you the
+very merriest Christmas."
+
+"It will be a _happy_ Christmas for me," he answered. "I am going to the
+station to meet my father and mother. Some years ago they felt estranged
+from me--they are both staunch Presbyterians of the old school and it
+nearly broke their hearts when I went into Christian Science work. But
+they are beginning to look more tolerantly upon my calling, and they are
+on their way now to spend Christmas with us. You can guess how happy
+that makes me. 'Peace on earth, good will to men'--it is a
+wonder-working thought."
+
+"It is indeed," Eli agreed heartily.
+
+When the door had closed upon their visitor, Rose and Eli stood staring
+at each other rather foolishly. She was the first to speak: "Is there no
+end to the fight between the old and the new generation?"
+
+"We are just beginning the scrap with _our_ new generation," he said.
+"She called him up and asked for Christian Science help! I wonder what
+else that little monkey has been up to?"
+
+They soon found out. Carrying the doll Mr. Jackson had brought, Rose
+tiptoed after Eli into the nursery and gradually turned on the light.
+The first object to meet their eyes was Hannah's stocking, hanging
+precariously to a pin driven into the mantel. Pinned to the wall were
+several messages, neatly printed in pencil, which told their own tale:
+
+    Deer Santy--Nellie babtized me. Holy wotter.
+                                                Hannah.
+
+
+    Deer Santy--I want things in my stockin.
+                                                Hannah.
+
+
+    Deer Santy Claws--Ime a jentile. Nellie babtize me. Ime a jentile
+    cath-lic C. S.
+                                                Hannah.
+
+
+    Deer Santy--Bring me any nice things you got left. With love
+                                                Hannah.
+
+
+    Deer Santy--Don't let my Mama and my Papa get mad bout you.
+                                                Hannah.
+
+Eli began to chortle, and Hannah stirred in her sleep, throwing both
+chubby arms over her head. Clutched tightly in her left hand they saw a
+rosary of amethyst colored beads.
+
+Rose snapped off the light and pushed Eli out into the hall. He sat down
+on the stairs and laughed until he cried. "The dog-gone little mixer!"
+he chuckled. "A Gentile Catholic Christian Scientist is she? And if she
+has ever happened to hear anything about Mahomet, believe me, she's
+sleeping with her feet toward Mecca right now!"
+
+Rose was weeping silently over the message: "Don't let my Mama my Papa
+get mad bout you." She touched her husband on the shoulder, "Eli, what
+shall we do about it?"
+
+"Do?" He stood up and set his jaw determinedly. "You spoke just now of
+the fight between the old and the new generations: do you see what we
+are coming to if we don't concede our child her legitimate rights. She
+will seek them out, and take them by force, and never forgive us for
+withholding them, that's what! Every child who has ever heard of Santa
+Claus has a right to enjoy the myth. Didn't I give a hundred dollars to
+the Elks and a hundred dollars to the Big Brothers who are looking after
+the empty stockings of the poor children, while my own baby----"
+
+He had reached his bedroom door and was kicking off his house slippers.
+
+"Eli, where are you going?"
+
+"Down-town to see Santa Claus if I have to break open a dozen stores,"
+he answered determinedly.
+
+                    *      *      *      *      *
+
+It seemed that Santa Claus, never having visited Hannah before, had a
+mind to make up for lost time. An overflowing stocking hung from the
+mantel; a tree loaded with presents and tinsel stood by her bed; about
+the room were placed large gifts, everything a little girl might wish
+for. Hannah was dazed. She didn't see her mother and father standing in
+the doorway of the nursery, their arms about each other, and smiling.
+She tugged at her window until it opened and then called to Nellie
+across the intervening space.
+
+"He came! He came!" she screamed, as a tousled, flame-colored head
+showed at the window opposite.
+
+Hannah brushed by her parents and, running to the window nearest
+Virginia's room, repeated her message. Then she came back into the
+nursery, still oblivious of mother and father, and stared about her in
+ecstasy. The occasion called for some expression of thanksgiving--what
+could it be? A seven-year-old child hasn't words for such a big emotion.
+She could think of but one thing to do.
+
+Reverently bowing her little bronze head, she made the sign of the
+cross--upside down!
+
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Little Mixer, by Lillian Nicholson Shearon
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