JACK AND JILL AND SANTA CLAUS.

Auckland Star, Volume 304, Issue 304, 23 December 1926, Page 14 (Supplement)

JACK AND JILL AND SANTA CLAUS.

| (A CHRISTMAS STORY.)

By KATHARINE TYNAN.

I It was only too likely to be the last j Christmas tree party that Spencers I should ever give, and, of course, it was \ madness to give it at all in their circtuni stances, as Jack and Gillian Spencer had agreed mournfully, and yet laughing at themselves, as they always did. They were not going to deprive Michael and Cabriel, his little sister, of their Christmas tree this year, at all events. Next year—they did not like to think of next year —they were going to be separated. They could no longer keep a home together, and Jack was going out alone to the ends of the earth to seek his fortune and theirs. He had fallen on unemployment, or only temporary employment, after the war, and little by little they had given up everything—sometimes even hope. T'e term of years for which they had their house would be up at the March quarter, and Jack was going to South America for five years —to make good if he could in that time; and Gillian and the children were going to Aunt Gina, in a remote part of Suffolk, many miles from a railway station. It was not a pleasant prospect for two lovers, who could not endure being parted for even a week or a month. They did not .talk much about it, or they talked with a cheerfulness they did not feel. Gillian had to remind herself very often of the people whose husbands never came home; and Jack had to look at his new employment very hard, persuading I himself that he was wonderfully lucky I to get this job when so many poor fellows were still in the terrible state he had been. He had to persuade himself - and Gillian that her Uncle Joe, through whom this chance had come, was no end of a good fellow, whereas at the back of his mind he thought Mr. Joseph Travel's a hard-hearted rich man, who could have helped them in a way at least to keep them together, without presenting this hard alternative of a five years' parting. He had never seen Mr. Travels, nor had Gillian. He had gone seeking his fortune in South America before Gillian was thought of, and he had taken a pretty long time to find it, though he j had found it eventually, too late to be of much good to anybody. Jack rather judged Mr. Joseph Tra- | vers like Aunt Gina, who had opposed i their marriage as improvident, and offer- ' ing a home to Gillian and the children had said '"I told you so." She, with a sardonic humour, had called the young ! couple Jack and Jill, warning them that j they were heading for calamity. I His poor little woman! He was afraid ! she was not going to be very happy at ] that remote house in Suffolk, where Aunt Gina, an elderly spinster, as strong as 'a horse, farmed her own land and carried ■on twenty, activities. 1 "It will be splendidly healthy for the chilren," Gillian said, a quiver passing 'over her face, "and Aunt Gina is-not | really as she pretends to be. I know : she' will adore the' children, and she has always been very good to mc, though I in that queer, hard way of hers." 1 They were tying the presents on to the ' Christmas tree. It was their farewell party, as well as the children's Christmas ' tree, so they had been rather prodigal, ! and they had bidden all their neighbours | and friends, and there were presents for : everybody. : At least there would no longer be the money worries, the debts creeping up, the I terror about the rent, about a thousand things. Gillian would no longer have [money worries at the gabled house; the ! children would live on the fat of the i land. There would be Jack's letters to ! live on, and the certainty that Jack was i making good. But the absence, that was ' something Gillian did not dare to think j of. And the chances of life and death i for five years. If she and the children | could only have gone with him! ! They were making all the preparations i for this Christmas party in a rather 1 feverish state of mind, distracting them- ; selves with childish things because of the ' coming parting I It was three days before Christmas and ! the party was to be on Boxing Day. Jack ! was pretty busy, going to the city every ' day training for his new post. So it was I only in the evenings, after dinner, that j they could work together at the Christ--1 mas-tree. | They were working together this even- | ing, and there were moments when Gili lian could hardly see what she was doing ' for tears, and sometimes their hands met I by accident and clasped for a second and • parted. Suddenly there was a loud post- ! man's knock. There were a good many i presents coming for the children these ] days, and letters and gifts for Jack and Gillian, who were very popular. But this 1 evening there were only two letters. Gillian's was from Aunt Gina. The hard, angular writing was all over the envelope. She opened it listlessly and stared. There was a cheque for £50 enclosed. "You'll lie wanting to outfit yourself and the children," wrote Aunt Gina. "I'd like you to look nice before the neighbours. I don't suppose you've anything to spare these days. Can you put mc up for a few days from the 23rd to the 30th ? I am tired of spending my Christmas alone or with strangers. My friends are dropping off. Wire reply, and I'll he with you on the 23rd." She handed the cheque to Jack. It was very welcome. She had been getting a little dowdy, though Jack would never discover it. It was very kind of Aunt Gina. But the letter fretted. It was Aunt Gina all over—doing the right thing in the wrong way. "You'll get yourself a pretty frock tomorrow," said Jack. "She's a decent old lady after all." "She's coming to stay for Christinas, Jack. She'll be here for the party." "Never mind." said Jack, consolingly. "She'll only think she's justified in her opinion of our fecklessness. You wouldn't deny her that pleasure. Anyhow—every penny of that 50 quid is to be spent on yourself and the children. I've got my outfit from the company. And these clothes are well cut. I can do with them till the outfit comes along." Aunt Gina a:rived on Lhe night of the l 23rd. She was accompanied by mounain- . ous hampers. She might have known about the party in advance and about the ; Christmas Day dinner to some of Jack's pals who had not been as lucky as he. : * She was certainly generous. There was a turkey as big as an ostrich, sausaget?. eggs, home-cured bacon, home-made bread, butter, cakes; they might have been pro- . visioned for a siege at the little house in Dolwvn Road. On' Christmas Eve she offered to take the children oft Gillian's hands, so ; chartered a taxi soon after breakfast and, ! with a warning to Gillian not to expect them till she saw them, departed with the two jubilant little people, who were fortunately very sensible for five and .seven. They did not come back till the after-1 noon, and Aunt Gina had splendid re- f ports of the children's good behaviour, j They had shopped all the morning and J

lunched at a restaurant and shopped again; and they had brought home more parcels and boxes, with which Aunt Gina was busy in her own room after the children had gone to bed. What had come to her? Her gifts were munificent. She had given Gillian a fur coat and Jack a gold watch. She might have known what had become of the other in the thin days. She had made no remark about the sparseness of the furniture —they had got rid of a good many things —and she had fitted out the children from top to toe at Debenham and Freebodj's, besides giving them carte blanche at Ilamley's She was the success of the dinner to Jack's old pals. So sympathetic and understanding. And she had offered a job to Trevor, who was nearest the end of his tether; and she might be able to find room for one or two of the other.. Tlie hearts of the young people had warmed towards her. They were very soft hearts indeed, and very ready to warm. Jack found himself on Christmas night, when everyone had gone and Gillian was upstairs with the children talking, to her with an entire forgetful ness of her supposed hardness and lack 01 sympathy. It was really much easier now to leave Gillian and the children, now that Aunt Gina had proved so amazingly, unexpectedly kind. ' Being a simple 'person, he let more of his attitude of mind slip into what he was saying than lie intended, and Aunt Gina listened to him with an amused, half-cynical smile. "Gillian was always a dear little girl,*' she said at last. "I couldn't keep her from being afraid of mc. I had that hard way. I'd had to be hard once, and it grew. It's not so easy to get through it when it grows.'' There was one disappointment about the Christmas-tree, for Archer, the old family friend, who had always brought his friend Hassan, the famous artist, who was the merriest man on the London stage, to be Santa Claus, had failed this year. Hassan was down witii influenza, but Mr. Archer had found a substitute, whom he hoped would do as well. The substitute began by falling down the chimney of the spare room over the drawing room, with a fearful clatter of lire-irons, to the huge excitement of the children. When he appeared, covered with snow from head to foot and with a very red nose, he did not seem a penny the" worse, but stamped about aud blew on his lingers and cracked jokes, and altogether behaved in a most Santa Clausian manner. Everyone voted the new Santa Claus even better than the old one. And the Spencers had certainly been very extravagant, for, in addition to the presents on the tree, there was a great reserve stock in the background, from which everyone seemed to get the very thing they" wanted. Apparently Miss GeorIgina Travers had been asking questions and discovering just what people would like. The oddest gifts of all were the sealed envelopes, of which there was one for each of Jack's down-and-out pals, who had been persuaded to come to the Christmas tree, and were standing a little apart in a desolate companionship with each other, and away from more fortunate man. Each envelope was marked, "Not to be taken till after dinner," and there wae great laughter over it, for Santa Claus said they contained pills for sad hearts! There was also a sealed envelope for Jack Spencer, who thrust it into his pocket and forgot all about it. And presently the guests were all leaving, witii a great wrapping up of little people and gathering together of gifts by mothers and nurses, not one of whom had been forgotten. Santa Claus was to stay for dinner with Mr. Archer and Jack's poor pals, who had been asked at the last moment to eat up the good things Aunt Gina had provided, and drink tiie champagne, which had arrived from an unknown donor late on Christmas Eve night. Santa Claus came down in his proper garments to dinner, —a little red-faced elderly gentleman, with a twinkling eye. He sat on one side of Gillian at dinner, and Mr. Archer on the other side. Aunt Gina sat by Jack, and was very amiable to him, and the rest of tlie space was filled in by the old pals. Xv one thought of inquiring the elderly gentleman's name, aud when one of the old pals addressed him as Mr. Santa Claus, that seemed quite good enough for the rest of the table. It was a very enjoyable occasion. Jack and Gillian confessed to each other aftorwards that they had a strange misty sense of unreality about it all. Here was Aunt Gina, who had disapproved of their marriage, and kept up her attitude of cynical disapproval ever since, being as nice as possible to them and everybody; and Gillian had a queer idea that Aunt Gina and Santa Claus had some kind of friendly knowledge of each other. She thought she had intercepted glances between them—smiles. When the crackers had been pulled and the gaiety began to subside a little—very soon now the guests must take their hats and overcoats and go out into the cold night—Mr. Santa t'laus stood up. "A speech! A speech!" cried one of Jack's pals, and they all echoed him. "The first thing I want done," said Mr. Santa Claus, "i s for each of you gentlemen to open and read the letter received from Santa Claus by mv hand this afternoon. Please begin, Mr. Jack Spencer." Jack opened the envelope, and lookout what it held. It was a letter from the London house of his South American firm. It had been decided, owing to the representations of Mr. Joseph Travers, to keep Mr. Spencer at the London house. An interview with the manager at Mr. Spencer's convenience, to arrange details, would follow. He looked up from the letter at the face of Mr. Santa Claus. "It is a practical joke," he began. "It isn't, my boy," said Mr. Santa Claus. "I'm one of the biggest shareholders in the South American Nitrate Corporation, and I'm also Gillian's Uncle Joe. I've done nothing much for you up to this, but my sister had been sending mc good reports of you. I got you ' taken on to the South American business, • although you didn't know it, but you'll . do very well at home, though perhaps j you won't make quite as big a fortune, j Perhaps you won't need 'it. Lpon my ; word, I don't know how you had the courage to leave my niece and those j two beautiful children. It was a test case. I don't say I'd have let you down if you hadn't pone, you know, but it shows what stuff you and she are made of." "I couldn't help it, sir."' said Jack bewildercdly. His pals were staring at their letters, each of which contained £o0 "for immediate expenses/ and an appointment card with the manager of the Nitrate | Corporation and one or two other important businesses. So that was how Santa f"lau« cam.' : > '■ Jack and Gillian Spencer and to iialf-a-j dozen of Jack's pals. j