Read Online Substitute Guest by Grace Livingston Hill - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Grace Livingston Hill
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red suit, his mother eyeing him proudly.
That was the first intimation that Ruth had of how bad the storm was, and she went to the outer door and looked out aghast. How could the children get there! No wonder Jimmy’s mother had been dubious about bringing him! Probably Jimmy would be the only child that would come; that would make it harder for her than if she had to entertain a lot of children.
But it was surprising how many came! Those kiddies were not to be cheated out of their Christmas party, not they. Most of them had bullied or coaxed or harried their unwilling parents into bringing them. A few of the older ones, mostly boys and tomboy girls, arrived by themselves, laughing and stamping snow, with knees and ankles sopping wet, and rubber boots wet inside. There was plenty to be done, drying them up and taking care that they didn’t catch cold. Fortunately a few mothers and a father or two remained and helped quite materially.
The party began in great shape. Ruth sent the children scurrying across the room in rows first, to pick up peanuts that had been laid down at intervals, and the exercise warmed them all up. Next they went to the other games for a time, until they were all out of breath and glad to sit down. Then she grouped them in front of the blackboard and told her picture story. After that, one by one, each was blindfolded and gravely walked ahead with a stocking solemnly grasped in his hand, to hang it on the cotton chimney place, and they had great laughs over the crooked walk of the little pilgrims.
Then they all sat down in the semicircle at the little tables to eat their ice cream and cake.
The helping mothers and fathers were serving now and Ruth, while she filled the paper stockings from the pile of bundles concealed behind the cotton fireplace, reflected that it was almost over and she would soon be free.
At last the weary happy children were being stuffed into leggings and rubber boots and the mothers were telling her what a wonderful time the children had had, and how they thanked her for the beautiful picture lesson. They said they never would forget it and they thought the children would always have a better idea of what Christmas meant, and they intended to follow up the lesson.
Ruth scarcely heard them. She was thinking that it was almost time for her to go. Then she followed them to the door and saw with horror the denseness of the storm. It seemed impassable and she came back in a panic. She telephoned to the garage almost in terror. Perhaps, after all, she would have to spend the night here in the lonely church!
Bill Gates was very nice. He told her the car was ready and he would send it around, but that she mustn’t think of driving it out to the farm until he got around with the snow plow, which would be in a few minutes now.
She turned away and stared at the gloomy window that was covered so thickly with snow.
Lance would think he had to come for her, of course, if he were back from the mountain with the tree. Oh, suppose he wasn’t! Suppose he should get lost on the mountain in the snow! But that was nonsense, of course. Lance was a man and could take care of himself. Still, she must prevent him from walking all the way to the village to drive her back.
So she called the Devereaux house and had that breathless moment with Lance, reassuring herself, so happy to know he was safely home and happily unconscious of the more perilous call that was on its way to him.
Ruth hurried back to help the janitor wash the spoons and ice cream saucers, and be ready to go when Bill Gates came, her eyes happy and her cheeks rosy at the thought of what was before her. As she worked swiftly wiping dishes and putting them away, she thought how she would arrive at the farm, and Lance would be out in the storm to meet her, and perhaps swing into the car and drive it into the garage for her. He would have a path all shoveled up to the house and they would go in to the light and warmth, and
That was the first intimation that Ruth had of how bad the storm was, and she went to the outer door and looked out aghast. How could the children get there! No wonder Jimmy’s mother had been dubious about bringing him! Probably Jimmy would be the only child that would come; that would make it harder for her than if she had to entertain a lot of children.
But it was surprising how many came! Those kiddies were not to be cheated out of their Christmas party, not they. Most of them had bullied or coaxed or harried their unwilling parents into bringing them. A few of the older ones, mostly boys and tomboy girls, arrived by themselves, laughing and stamping snow, with knees and ankles sopping wet, and rubber boots wet inside. There was plenty to be done, drying them up and taking care that they didn’t catch cold. Fortunately a few mothers and a father or two remained and helped quite materially.
The party began in great shape. Ruth sent the children scurrying across the room in rows first, to pick up peanuts that had been laid down at intervals, and the exercise warmed them all up. Next they went to the other games for a time, until they were all out of breath and glad to sit down. Then she grouped them in front of the blackboard and told her picture story. After that, one by one, each was blindfolded and gravely walked ahead with a stocking solemnly grasped in his hand, to hang it on the cotton chimney place, and they had great laughs over the crooked walk of the little pilgrims.
Then they all sat down in the semicircle at the little tables to eat their ice cream and cake.
The helping mothers and fathers were serving now and Ruth, while she filled the paper stockings from the pile of bundles concealed behind the cotton fireplace, reflected that it was almost over and she would soon be free.
At last the weary happy children were being stuffed into leggings and rubber boots and the mothers were telling her what a wonderful time the children had had, and how they thanked her for the beautiful picture lesson. They said they never would forget it and they thought the children would always have a better idea of what Christmas meant, and they intended to follow up the lesson.
Ruth scarcely heard them. She was thinking that it was almost time for her to go. Then she followed them to the door and saw with horror the denseness of the storm. It seemed impassable and she came back in a panic. She telephoned to the garage almost in terror. Perhaps, after all, she would have to spend the night here in the lonely church!
Bill Gates was very nice. He told her the car was ready and he would send it around, but that she mustn’t think of driving it out to the farm until he got around with the snow plow, which would be in a few minutes now.
She turned away and stared at the gloomy window that was covered so thickly with snow.
Lance would think he had to come for her, of course, if he were back from the mountain with the tree. Oh, suppose he wasn’t! Suppose he should get lost on the mountain in the snow! But that was nonsense, of course. Lance was a man and could take care of himself. Still, she must prevent him from walking all the way to the village to drive her back.
So she called the Devereaux house and had that breathless moment with Lance, reassuring herself, so happy to know he was safely home and happily unconscious of the more perilous call that was on its way to him.
Ruth hurried back to help the janitor wash the spoons and ice cream saucers, and be ready to go when Bill Gates came, her eyes happy and her cheeks rosy at the thought of what was before her. As she worked swiftly wiping dishes and putting them away, she thought how she would arrive at the farm, and Lance would be out in the storm to meet her, and perhaps swing into the car and drive it into the garage for her. He would have a path all shoveled up to the house and they would go in to the light and warmth, and
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