CHRISTMAS AT THE TRADING POST

Christmas Day is always a day of great joy and blessed peace.

Fred was glad that it could be celebrated in a peaceful manner, the only way which becomes this great peace day of the Prince of Peace.

Let us note how Fred with Matthew and Agnes, spent this day in glorifying their Lord.

The log house had been rebuilt, but it was much larger than the old one which the Indians had burned. In fact, it was a little fort with palisades surrounding it, for never again would they find themselves without the means of defense in a war with the Indians.

The main building was the trading post proper, which was twice as large as the old one and could accommodate all the furs and articles of trade which the increasing merchant ventures required. South of it on the bank of the river, with a wonderful view to the other side, stood a spacious dwelling house, consisting of two stories, very conveniently built. West of these two buildings stood a school, which Agnes intended for the Indian children that would return with their elders to their old haunts. In fact, even now some of the tribes had come back, very sorry for the war in which they had engaged. But not far up the river a settlement of white people had been made, and even now log houses were being built for the settlers. Agnes was anxious to have in her school also such white children as would come.

John Rawlins had superintended the erection of the fort, and as he was clever in making plans, he had done his work well.

“Shall we proceed with our Christmas program?” Agnes asked her brother; “the school is filled with people, and they are becoming impatient.”

“No, let us wait,” Fred replied; “our friends from Boston must be here any minute. They started early from Hartford this morning, and I expect them every moment, for it is almost noon.”

To his great joy, he soon heard the barking of dogs, and as the children ran forward toward the trail, they heard the hoofs of horses stamping the hard ground.

“They are coming,” Matthew cried.

In a short time the visitors were welcomed by the men, women, and children of the trading post. There were Mr. and Mrs. Bradley, who where anxious to see the children, a young Puritan pastor, who had recently come from England, and to whom the new settlement in the woods was assigned, and among other great and distinguished men, Captain John Mason, the hero of Mystic.

The joy of every one was great beyond words, and every one felt like talking, but Agnes urged them to come to the school, where the celebration was to take place.

We shall not enter into detail in describing the service, which was attended alike by white men and Indians. The new pastor preached a long and edifying sermon, and then Agnes with her class of little ones sang hymns about the little Lord Jesus and His wondrous love. Though the time was short, Agnes and Matthew had drilled the story of the nativity well, and the children answered promptly. The service lasted three hours. Then each child received a small gift, and the whole company was treated royally with a feast that all remembered for a long time after.

John Rawlins, clever and resourceful, had arranged this in his usual thorough way. For many days before he had sent out his trappers and hunters, and these brought huge supplies of game, –­turkeys, ducks, geese, partridges, bears, and what ever else could be found in the Connecticut woods, beautiful to behold and pleasant for food.

When finally the settlers and Indians had left, and darkness shrouded the woods, the children with their parents, John Rawlins, John Mason, and the new pastor gathered in the large living room of the new dwelling.

Here they related what had happened during the last months, and they united once more in giving thanks to the good Lord who doeth all things well.

They spoke also of the future.

“Now, you children must return to Boston,” Mrs. Bradley said, “and never leave us again; for we miss you so much. The home seems dead to us since you left.”

But the children demurred, very respectfully, but firmly.

“We shall always return to Boston and spend a number of weeks with you during the summer,” Agnes said; “but this is our home, and you must promise to visit us often.”

“And what will you do here?” Mr. Bradley asked.

“I will be a trapper and trader,” Fred said proudly, “and will serve you faithfully und John Rawlins, so that Agnes and Matthew, who are not interested in this work, may have food and clothing.”

“And I will be a school teacher,” Agnes said, “and teach all the children that come, white or Indian, the blessed story of Jesus, besides other things. It is a noble calling, and one which deserves that many good children dedicate themselves to it with heart and soul.”

“And I,” Matthew finally said, “will study theology under our new pastor, until I, too, may preach and teach and win souls for Jesus.”

There were tears in the eyes of all, even in those of the rough soldier John Mason.

“If our young people are thus minded,” he said, “we shall have no fear for the future of our colonies. We shall become a strong and powerful nation.”

“If our young people are thus minded,” said old, genial John Rawlins, “we shall have a large city here in the woods some time, with plenty of happiness and peace and wealth.”

“If you are thus minded,” Mrs. Bradley finally said, “I shall die in peace and thank God eternally for having bestowed upon me such dear children. God bless you richly in time and eternity.”

“And that is also my prayer,” Mr. Bradley joined in, as he gathered his arms around the children and kissed them.

“Well, well,” John Rawlins finally said, when no one knew exactly just what to say. “All day long I thought of something which would not come into my fool head, because we were so busy and happy. I never forgot it in England, but here my poor head is so addled that I am forgetful of even the most important thing.

“What is that?” they all asked.

“I forgot to wish you all a merry, merry Christmas,” the old servant said, as he bowed himself out of the room to go to bed.