Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, December 25, 1910

A Jolly Christmas!

And a bright New Year!

Today is Christmas. But somehow it doesn’t seem so, for there is no snow, and besides we haven’t given our presents away yet, except a few. This morning, the first thing we did was to decorate the house. Frances had bought some holly and imitation poinsettia flowers; the holly we twined on the ballisters in the stairway in the hall; hung over corners and pictures or pinned on the curtains; the poinsettias we unpacked and twined around the chandeliers – an especially big one, we placed it in a tall glass vase. And – oh yes I almost forgot something else. In the center of the front room chandelier, we placed one branch and in the center of the arch-way we tied another branch of the bewitching and mysterious – mistletoe! We had more fun out of that mistletoe to-day! Occasionally while putting it up, or directing up to put up, Frances would remark mournfully:

“Wouldn’t it be nice to have a tree – but then they’re such a nuisance!” Then we would make some trivial remark, agreeing with her.

This done, I decided to take Bill’s present over to him, and as I folded up the brown and white cushion, I wished to myself that I had one. Then with plentiful admonition from Frances and Joe to hurry back, as we were going down to Aunt Em’s and several other places to make Christmas calls, I went over. Bill I know wasn’t expecting anything, for he looked kind of funny and said

“Why you rump-fed ronyon!” But he liked it I think. After we had chatted for a while I remarked.

“Come on over this afternoon, will you? And tell Jim.”

“All-right. What’s your hurry?”

“I’ve got to make Christmas calls with Frances, Joe and Louise.

“Well so –long. We’ll be over.”

On the way over home I met them, wrathful over the delay I had caused, but we proceeded, amiably enough to Aunt Em’s who was pleased that we should come down. Here we talked of Christmas and school and everything else. Then we departed for Aunt Em’s. Our reception here was cool – but I shouldn’t say that, as it might lead one to think Aunt Lou was cool. Long ago, her back became lame and she never has been able to walk since; her mind became weakened, altho of late she had been improving. Then she had complained of being sick, and when we came in, she didn’t know us, and besides she was tired. She was sitting, propped up in a big chair in the dining room, with her head drooping wearily over her breast. She barely glanced up as we entered, and, without a sign of recognition, her head drooped forward again. Uncle Mart was in another room and greeted our “Merry Christmas”, cheerily enough, but it was evident he didn’t care to have us then and so, after failing to make Aunt Lou recognize us, we went out, subdued in spirit. How different this was from the Aunt Lou we used to know – so cheery and intelligent and happy and now –

But we were climbing up a flight of stairs in Uncle Mart’s big building close by; here on the second floor lived Dan Howell, his son, (that is, Uncle Mart’s son) and his two daughters, whom we were going to see. Unceremoniously we trooped in with a great deal of noise. An awful choking smoke that savored of gasoline greeted us, along with Alice, another daughter who was married, but had come down here for Christmas dinner. Ethel, she said was at Church, and Emily was working, while she (who should have been the guest) was cooking the goose! But she joyfully dropped everything, leaving big fat Dan to tend the goose, and showed their presents. There were a beautiful lot of them, everything from a picture to a hat-pin holder that a girl delights in. Then we talked a while, and when we got up to go she wanted us to stay, but we told of the tree and that we were going for a box to set it in and hurried away.

On the way we met Fred Bennett, a druggist and asked him what drug store was open. He said Trimble’s was and when we told him our purpose, he accommodatingly said that if we couldn’t find one, he would gladly come and get one for us at his store.

But Mr. Trimble had a box that was all-right, and altho Frances declared that people would think we weren’t right, we went marching up Main St, indulging in much laughter and talking to Lundy, where we parted, Frances going to Word’s on Vine St, Louise to church, and Joe and I to Aunt Maggie’s where we had had the tree delivered.

Uncle Dave elected himself master of ceremonies here (as Joe complained afterward that Uncle Dave wouldn’t let us do anything,) and set to work to take off the two boards in the center of the box. It took him about ten-minutes of tinkering and fussing and sweating to accomplish this, but finally it was ready, altho I am sure, and Joe was too, that either of us could have dine it in less time.

We then went out to the barn and here I saw my first glimpse of the tree; it certainly was a beauty; it was a perfectly shaped tree and thick with branches, which, on setting it up, we found, could be spread out in to a very round compact piece of Christmas cheer. And it smelled so good too, but we had to set to work. A lot of the lower branches had to chopped off, and I hated to see them go but off they must come. It did not take long to get it all fixed, but seemed long, for the cold in the air bit our hands and faces until the y tingled. When we had finished we hurried home. Frances met us at the door.

“Wherever have you been?” she cried.

“Oh we were down and Reich & Ruggy’s” Joe reponded carelessly.

“Yes, we got to talking with some fellows” I added. It had the desired effect on Mother for she never suspected out criminal duplicity!

Joe has been intending to make a little house to put in the window seat and had bought a dog and a miniature Christmas tree. Just before dinner – I think it was just before dinner or it might have been just after – we assembled in Joe’s room. – for what reason no one knows, and Joe was in the act of going over his purchases to see if he’d forgotten anything. I was leaning against the door reading a magazine, indifferent to what was going on.

“Well, let’s see” Joe remarked “I’ve got the tree – “

In alarm, Frances nudged Joe furiously and Louise glared at him in despair.

“What are you nudging him for?” asked Mama of Frances

“I wanted him to see how funny Charlie was looking, while he read” improvised Frances hopefully.

I glanced up, ready to dispute such a slight, but something in Frances’ face told me to be quiet.

“What did I look like anyway” I asked carelessly.

“Oh I can’t describe it” Frances cried laughingly, “but it was funny.

Mother went down to see about the dinner and Joe said to Frances;

“Did you think I meant the big tree?”

“Oh – did you mean the little one. I never thought. I expect we’ll give it away yet.”

This afternoon, while Joe was industriously make plans for his house upstairs and while I was drawing Santy and the Reindeers to go over it, Bill + Jim came over. Jim greeted everyone hilariously. Excusing myself, I continued drawing the Reindeers, while they either talked to Frances and Louise or watched me, giving me advice in profusion. When I had finished drawing, I got scissors and went into the parlor to cut them out. But the card-board was cheap and the scissors were dull, and consequently, the card-board tore; and besides I was too interested in talking to the fellows to work carefully so I rebelled; Frances going on with the work. Presently Joe came down with his house and proceeded to set it up on the window-seat in the living-room. The he placed his tree at the corner of the house, and then scattered cotton around on the tree and house: icicles were of glass and so they didn’t drip; during this operation, the fellows made fun of it all, and Joe insisted that snow-storms didn’t happen that way, while Joe retorted that we always were different,after which he placed two watch-dogs in front of the house and a golden automobile at the side. Frances wanted to see it let up, so Joe put in a candle and touched a match to it. We put down the curtains and then it did certainly look like a typical winter scene – with the lights shining over the snow and Santa Claus in the act of scooting over the roof.

At this moment Kinkie stopped in to see us and as usual made a fool of himself. He seemed to desire to make fun of everyone, so when he went out in the hall, we all went out and teased him. I don’t suppose we should have done it in our own house, but he deserved it and besides none of us cared much what he thought. Evidently his thoughts toward us weren’t loving, for he went away mad.

After this excitement, we four boys started a game of cards; then mother went down to Aunt Lou’s; and Frances persuaded Fred to take the clothes as I had company; then she came in excitedly and said.

“Say, will you boys stop playing cards and go for the tree. Mama and Fred are both away now.”

“What’s this?” asked Jim; I had told Bill, but Jim was as yet in the dark.

“Why we’re going to have a tree” explained Frances

“And we don’t want either Fred or Mama to know it; and I thought this would be a good time.

“Sure,” chorused Bill & Jim “we’ll go.”

We seized out hats and went scrambling up the alley to Fifth; it was icy and cold. We raced all the way to Aunt Maggie’s, where we secured the tree and hurried back, hiding it in Lodge’s back yard. Then we went up to Edith’s to get the dishes, a present which, Jim, Frances, Louise + Joe were giving to Mother. By this time it was supper-time, and the fellows went home, saying they were going out to Schnurrenberger’s in the evening.

After supper it was hard to get settled down at anything – I forgot whether I played solitaire or read; possibly we played Five-hundred; it doesn’t matter – whatever it was, it was done spasmodically and intermittently or something of the sort. Frances told me how they were going to get Mother and Fred to bed: they were going to tell Mother that Joe had a special funny present that he had to get ready and she must go to bed; Fred was to sacrifice himself and go to bed so Mother wouldn’t be so reluctant to go. This scheme worked fine, altho Mother somewhat piqued and being hustled off in this high-handed manner. After they were gone, we took off all the presents, which we had arranged on the table (all wrapt of course) as usual, so as not to excite suspicion, and piled them in the front room. The we began to place the dishes on the table, taking the greatest care not to let the dishes strike each other, and so make a noise. Once Fred started to come down-stairs: but Frances became excited and cried:

“Here don’t let him come down – he musn’t come down!”

I tried to tell her to let him come down but we were all too excited to pay any attention to each other. While Fred hesitated, I told him to come down, and he did, to get a drink.

“He know about the dishes” I said to Frances.

“That’s right” she replied “I never thought. It’s a wonder we haven’t given it away before”

“Mama asked me” said Louise “but in the kitchen if we were going to have a tree for her. I hardly know what to say but I said no and asked her if she wanted one.”

“I wonder if she knows” I remarked

“No” said Jim “if she did she wouldn’t say anything about it.”

The dishes on the table, Joe & I hurried over to get the tree; and when we brought it in we made (as we thought) a lot of noise about it: once we scraped the ceiling under Mother’s bedroom. The tree was about a foot too tall, so we cut that off. Then we began decorating it; Frances + Louise had gotten everything ready to tie on, and soon the tree was all a-glitter with all sorts of spangles and baubles, gold + silver stuff and the other decorations. Then, putting on the candles, the others told me I had to go to bed, as there was a surprise for me too. As I went into my room I asked Fred, who was still awake, if he had heard anything and he replied “No.” A moment later Frances came up and asked him the same question!

Altho its only about ten o’clock now, still I’m rather sleepy, but I can hardly wait until to-morrow to see what I’ll get, for I haven’t the slightest idea – I never asked for anything.

Charles E Burchfield, December 25, 1910