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The New Zealand Railways Magazine, Volume 11, Issue 9 (December 1, 1936)

The Spirit of Christmas

page 67

The Spirit of Christmas

A Christmas Tale for Children.

Jill was not feeling particularly pleased with herself that morning, in fact, she was feeling very sad and sorry, which was not a very nice state to be in, at all.

She had quarrelled with her three small brothers, Bruce, Derrick and Peter, as to what they were going to have for Christmas dinner. Jill didn't suppose that there would be many nice things, now Daddy was out of work. She wondered if she could earn some money, so that they could all have a lovely Christmas dinner. She was only such a little girl, what could she do? She could peel potatoes, shell peas, pick and arrange flowers, weed the garden. Weed the garden, that was it! She could weed Mrs. Dudley Higgins' garden. It was awfully big, but then she need only do a little patch at a time. Mrs. Dudley Higgins had wanted a good gardener for a long time, and she could be a good gardener, for Mother had said so.

Her mind made up, Jill disappeared out of the front door of the little house. Mrs. Dudley Higgins lived in a large grey house, with “diamond windows” as Jill called them. She skipped all the way there and arrived a little breathless at the gate, and walked slowly up the long drive leading to the house. There were lovely swaying poplar trees by the side of the house, and a pretty pool with waterlilies, beautiful red and pink rose bushes, sweet smelling stock, dainty anemones, and many other flowers of every colour and scent. The green lawn which stretched in front of the house, Jill noticed was trim and neat. “Pr'aps Mrs. Dudley Higgins has already engaged a gardener,” thought Jill. She knocked with the brass knocker on the large grey door. She did not have long to wait before the door opened and a pleasant-faced woman said very kindly, “Well, what can I do for you?”

Jill had been expecting to see a maid appear in cap and apron, but surely this lady could not be a maid?

“P-please,” she stammered, “Are—are you—Mrs. Dudley Higgins?”

“I am,” answered the lady.

Jill hadn't rehearsed a speech, so the words tumbled out with a rush, “Do—do you want a gardener?”

“A gardener?” Mrs. Higgins looked in some surprise at the small girl standing before her in well-worn sandals, a faded, yet clean print frock, and, with well-brushed straight, dark hair. She was on the point of saying, “I have one,” when she stopped. “You aren't by any chance,” she asked amusedly, “wanting a position as one?”

“Oh, yes, please!” exclaimed Jill excitedly, “and I'm awfully good, Mummy says. I can pull up weeds like wildfire.”

“Can you? But no plants, I hope?”

Jill was horrified. “Plants? Oh, no, only weeds.”

“What do you charge, shall we say, for a half day? Mind you, the weeding must be done well.”

“Charge?” Jill was a little confused, “Oh, I don't know. I—”

“Well, you're a funny gardener not to know what to charge. Let me see—Shall we say six shillings for a half day?”

“Six shillings!” Jill almost jumped for joy. “That would be lovely, please!”

“And what, may I ask, do you want such a large sum for?”

“Oh,” Jill looked down at the doormat and rubbed the toe of her sandal over its rough surface. “You see, Daddy's out of work, and I thought—well—I thought I could help to give Christmas dinner to my three brothers—”

“I see,” said Mrs. Higgins thoughtfully. “Well, I'll engage you. Can you start work right away?”

“Rather!” Jill exclaimed.

“Come, then, and I will show you the part I wish you to weed.”

She led the way over to the pool. Jill followed, her heart beating more loudly than usual. Six silver shillings! Wouldn't Mummy be pleased!

Her brothers had called her a “crybaby” this morning when she had fallen down in a game of chasing and scraped her knee, but she would show them that she was almost grown up, and could help Mummy and Daddy by earning money. A vision of plum pudding and cream, and cake with thick icing on it glistened before her eyes…

“I want you to weed this part round the edge of the pool,” Mrs. Higgins' voice broke in on her thoughts,” and here are the gloves and the gardening fork.” She picked them up off the page 68 page 69
“The Sphinx,” a limestone curiosity at Castle Hill, South Island, New Zealand.

“The Sphinx,” a limestone curiosity at Castle Hill, South Island, New Zealand.

ground and gave them to Jill. “Don't weed any further than the tree.”

“No, Mrs. Higgins,” Jill murmured as she put on the gloves which were three sizes too large for her small hands, and bent busily to her task.

“I want no weeds showing, now,” Mrs. Higgins said as she left and made her way back to the house.

Mrs. Jones, a member of the social circle in the town, looked inquiringly at her as she entered the sitting-room.

“A young visitor?” She arched her plucked eyebrows.

“Mrs. Simmons' little girl. I have given her a job weeding the garden.”

“Weeding?” exclaimed Mrs. Jones in surprise.

“Yes, she asked for the job. I couldn't refuse her, and I'm going to pay her six shillings.”

“Whatever for,” Mrs. Jones laughed. “Fancy giving a child six shillings. She'll only spend it on sweets.”

“Oh, no, not this child. She has never had a penny for sweets in her life. The bare necessities is all they've got. The father has been out of work for months and there are three brothers all younger than the little girl.”

“Why doesn't Mr. Higgins give him a job in the firm, then. Is he a clerical worker?”

Mrs. Higgins patted the waves of her hair into position and looked at herself in the mirror over the fireplace.

“That's an idea, Mrs. Jones,” she said. “I'll ring up my husband and plead the case.”

“Never interfere in your husband's business, is my motto,” said Mrs. Jones airily.

“And never to interfere in anybody else's, is mine,” said Mrs. Higgins as she dialed her husband's number.

A long conversation took place over the telephone and when at length Mrs. Higgins put the receiver on its hook, she beamed happily at Mrs. Jones.

“Mr. Simmons has a job,” she said. “Beneath John's hard exterior which he shows to the world, there is a kind heart. He said, ‘I'll do it to please you.’”

Mrs. Jones rose and pulled on her kid gloves.

“It's nice to have a husband who's still in love with you after fifteen years of married life.”

“Yes,” laughed Mrs. Higgins, “and it's a lovely experience, too.”

With a frosty “good-bye,” Mrs. Jones was gone.

Mrs. Higgins laughed amusedly as she glanced out of the window in the direction of the pool. “I wonder how my little gardener is getting on,” she murmured.

She settled on the couch by the window and continued to read the novel, which the arrival of Mrs. Jones had interrupted.

Jill found the weeding more strenuous than she had anticipated. The ground was very hard and the weeds had long, strong roots. She sat back and surveyed the clean patch which she had already done. It is lovely and shady underneath the trees, she thought. Wouldn't it be beautiful if they could have a pool at home like this? Her hands were hot and sticky. She pulled off one glove and put her hand into the pool and murmured,

“Water, water, sweet and cool,
You make a lovely, little pool.”

With the other hand she put the gardening fork in the pool and began to make ripples in the water with it. Then she didn't know how it happened, but the fork fell with a plop! into the pool and disappeared from sight.

Jill gave a gasp. Now, what was she going to do? She peered into the cool, green depths of the pool. What was that she could see, way down there? She rubbed her eyes. A face looked up at her through the water. It came nearer and nearer to the surface. Jill wanted to scream, but she seemed rooted to the spot. She could only continue to stare, open-mouthed. The face of a beautiful young girl appeared out of the water followed by a graceful body, clothed in flowing garments, which swept over the water and over the large water-lily on which she sat. She shook her golden hair out until it fell almost down to her ankles. In her lap lay Jill's gardening fork. She placed it on the bank beside Jill.

“Don't be afraid, little girl,” she said in a silvery tone, “There is the fork which you dropped.”

Jill found her voice at last. She swallowed hard.

“T-thank y-you,” she stammered, “b-but—who are you?”

“I am the Spirit of Christmas. I bring luck to all who see me, or who feel that I am near them. I live in shady places, in cool, deep pools, or in places where Nature has been most lavish in her beauty. I am here in this garden because it is a beautiful garden and because there are kind thoughts here. Someone, I feel is doing a good deed. That someone must be you, little girl, or it may be the lady of the house. I am not quite sure. Always remember, little girl, to share your joys ….” Her voice died away, her head dropped forward and her golden hair fell about her face almost completely covering her body. The water-lily began to move away over to the other side of the pool. Her hair shone like burnished gold as the sun peeped through the leafy branches of the trees, then there appeared what looked like a golden star, and when Jill rubbed her eyes and looked again, the beautiful maiden had disappeared.

Jill sat for a few minutes in wonder. “The Spirit of Christmas,” she murmured. But there was weeding to be done, even if a beautiful maiden did appear out of a pool, so Jill set to
“The fork fell with a plop!”

“The fork fell with a plop!”

work again, and when Mrs. Higgins returned some time later, her face was very red, and her small back was aching.

“Why!” exclaimed Mrs. Higgins, “you have been busy! You have earned your six shillings, and I have a piece of cherry cake and a glass of milk waiting for you.”

“Oh, thank you,” Jill rubbed her moist face with her rather grubby hand.

“Your name is Jill, isn't it?” asked Mrs. Higgins as they walked to the house.

“Yes, but how did you know?”

“I know all about you,” Mrs. Higgins smiled.

page 70

page 71

“All about Daddy?” asked Jill sorrowfully.

“Yes, and I want you to take a message home to him to-night. Tell him to see Mr. Higgins to-morrow at the firm and a job will be waiting for him. Can you remember that?”

“Do you mean Daddy will always have work and we can buy things for Christmas?”

“Yes, dear.”

“Oh, isn't it lovely! You know, Mrs. Higgins, it must be the Spirit of Christmas who has done this.”

“The Spirit of Christmas,” Mrs. Higgins looked surprised, “What's that?”

Jill poured out the whole story of the beautiful maiden at the pool. Mrs. Higgins did not laugh and say, “how silly!” She just said, “There may be something in what you have said, Jill, for this afternoon, I fell asleep and I dreamt a wonderful dream. It was all about nice things and there was a little girl in my dreams just like you and she said to me, ‘May I come and play in your garden by the pool,’ and I said, ‘if you don't get wet,’ Wasn't that a funny thing to say?”

“Yes,” laughed Jill, “but I never get wet by pools. My dress isn't even a bit sprinkled.”

“Well, you may come into my garden and play whenever you like, Jill, and so may your little brothers.”

“Oh, thank you Mrs. Higgins, they will be pleased.”

Jill walked home very tired, but happy, carrying six shillings in a hot little hand and a very important message in her head for Daddy.

The meal at home that evening was a joyous one. Jill recounted her lovely adventure with the Spirit of Christmas over and over again. Her father, whose eyes were bright and twinkling once again, was smiling happily at her mother across the table.

Jill was staring at six silver shillings by her plate on the table. “How do you divide six shillings by four, Mummy?” she asked suddenly.

“You will have one and sixpence each,” answered her mother, smiling.

Jill drew herself up very straight in her chair, looked at her three small brothers, who were gazing at her across the table, and said in a tone of importance, “You may have one and sixpence each, but, remember, it is a lot of money for small boys, and you mustn't waste it, for I earned it.”

(Photo., Thelma R. Kent.) The scenic glory of the Eglinton Valley, South Island, New Zealand.

(Photo., Thelma R. Kent.)
The scenic glory of the Eglinton Valley, South Island, New Zealand.