I.
Little Tessa sat alone by the fire,
waiting for her father to come home from work.
The children were fast asleep, all four in the big
bed behind the curtain; the wind blew hard outside,
and the snow beat on the window-panes; the room was
large, and the fire so small and feeble that it didn’t
half warm the little bare toes peeping out of the old
shoes on the hearth.
Tessa’s father was an Italian
plaster-worker, very poor, but kind and honest.
The mother had died not long ago, and left twelve-year
old Tessa to take care of the little children.
She tried to be very wise and motherly, and worked
for them like any little woman; but it was so hard
to keep the small bodies warm and fed, and the small
souls good and happy, that poor Tessa was often at
her wits’ end. She always waited for her
father, no matter how tired she was, so that he might
find his supper warm, a bit of fire, and a loving
little face to welcome him. Tessa thought over
her troubles at these quiet times, and made her plans;
for her father left things to her a good deal, and
she had no friends but Tommo, the harp-boy upstairs,
and the lively cricket who lived in the chimney.
To-night her face was very sober, and her pretty brown
eyes very thoughtful as she stared at the fire and
knit her brows, as if perplexed. She was not
thinking of her old shoes, nor the empty closet, nor
the boys’ ragged clothes just then. No;
she had a fine plan in her good little head, and was
trying to discover how she could carry it out.
You see, Christmas was coming in a
week; and she had set her heart on putting something
in the children’s stockings, as the mother used
to do, for while she lived things were comfortable.
Now Tessa had not a penny in the world, and didn’t
know how to get one, for all the father’s earnings
had to go for food, fire, and rent.
’If there were only fairies,
ah! how heavenly that would be; for then I should
tell them all I wish, and, pop! behold the fine things
in my lap!’ said Tessa to herself. ’I
must earn the money; there is no one to give it to
me, and I cannot beg. But what can I do, so small
and stupid and shy as I am? I must find
some way to give the little ones a nice Christmas.
I must! I must!’ and Tessa
pulled her long hair, as if that would help her think.
But it didn’t, and her heart
got heavier and heavier; for it did seem hard that
in a great city full of fine things, there should be
none for poor Nono, Sep, and little Speranza.
Just as Tessa’s tears began to tumble off her
eyelashes on to her brown cheeks, the cricket began
to chirp. Of course, he didn’t say a word;
but it really did seem as if he had answered her question
almost as well as a fairy; for, before he had piped
a dozen shrill notes, an idea popped into Tessa’s
head — such a truly splendid idea that she
clapped her hands and burst out laughing. ‘I’ll
do it! I’ll do it! if father will let me,’
she said to herself, smiling and nodding at the fire.
’Tommo will like to have me go with him and
sing, while he plays his harp in the streets.
I know many songs, and may get money if I am not frightened;
for people throw pennies to other little girls who
only play the tambourine. Yes, I will try; and
then, if I do well, the little ones shall have a Merry
Christmas.’
So full of her plan was Tessa that
she ran upstairs at once, and asked Tommo if he would
take her with him on the morrow. Her friend was
delighted, for he thought Tessa’s songs very
sweet, and was sure she would get money if she tried.
’But see, then, it is cold in
the streets; the wind bites, and the snow freezes
one’s fingers. The day is very long, people
are cross, and at night one is ready to die with weariness.
Thou art so small, Tessa, I am afraid it will go badly
with thee,’ said Tommo, who was a merry, black-eyed
boy of fourteen, with the kindest heart in the world
under his old jacket.
’I do not mind cold and wet,
and cross people, if I can get the pennies,’
answered Tessa, feeling very brave with such a friend
to help her. She thanked Tommo, and ran away
to get ready, for she felt sure her father would not
refuse her anything. She sewed up the holes in
her shoes as well as she could, for she had much of
that sort of cobbling to do; she mended her only gown,
and laid ready the old hood and shawl which had been
her mother’s. Then she washed out little
Ranza’s frock and put it to dry, because she
would not be able to do it the next day. She
set the table and got things ready for breakfast, for
Tommo went out early, and must not be kept waiting
for her. She longed to make the beds and dress
the children over night, she was in such a hurry to
have all in order; but, as that could not be, she
sat down again, and tried over all the songs she knew.
Six pretty ones were chosen; and she sang away with
all her heart in a fresh little voice so sweetly that
the children smiled in their sleep, and her father’s
tired face brightened as he entered, for Tessa was
his cheery cricket on the hearth. When she had
told her plan, Peter Benari shook his head, and thought
it would never do; but Tessa begged so hard, he consented
at last that she should try it for one week, and sent
her to bed the happiest little girl in New York.
Next morning the sun shone, but the
cold wind blew, and the snow lay thick in the streets.
As soon as her father was gone, Tessa flew about and
put everything in nice order, telling the children
she was going out for the day, and they were to mind
Tommo’s mother, who would see about the fire
and the dinner; for the good woman loved Tessa, and
entered into her little plans with all her heart.
Nono and Giuseppe, or Sep, as they called him, wondered
what she was going away for, and little Ranza cried
at being left; but Tessa told them they would know
all about it in a week, and have a fine time if they
were good; so they kissed her all round and let her
go.
Poor Tessa’s heart beat fast
as she trudged away with Tommo, who slung his harp
over his shoulder, and gave her his hand. It was
rather a dirty hand, but so kind that Tessa clung
to it, and kept looking up at the friendly brown face
for encouragement.
’We go first to the cafe,
where many French and Italians eat the breakfast.
They like my music, and often give me sips of hot coffee,
which I like much. You too shall have the sips,
and perhaps the pennies, for these people are greatly
kind,’ said Tommo, leading her into a large
smoky place where many people sat at little tables,
eating and drinking. ’See, now, have no
fear; give them “Bella Monica;” that is
merry and will make the laugh,’ whispered Tommo,
tuning his harp.
For a moment Tessa felt so frightened
that she wanted to run away; but she remembered the
empty stockings at home, and the fine plan, and she
resolved not to give it up. One fat old
Frenchman nodded to her, and it seemed to help her
very much; for she began to sing before she thought,
and that was the hardest part of it. Her voice
trembled, and her cheeks grew redder and redder as
she went on; but she kept her eyes fixed on her old
shoes, and so got through without breaking down, which
was very nice. The people laughed, for the song
was merry; and the fat man smiled and nodded
again. This gave her courage to try another, and
she sung better and better each time; for Tommo played
his best, and kept whispering to her, ’Yes;
we go well; this is fine. They will give the
money and the blessed coffee.’
So they did; for, when the little
concert was over, several men put pennies in the cap
Tessa offered, and the fat man took her on his knee,
and ordered a mug of coffee, and some bread and butter
for them both. This quite won her heart; and
when they left the cafe, she kissed her hand
to the old Frenchman, and said to her friend, ’How
kind they are! I like this very much; and now
it is not hard.’
But Tommo shook his curly head, and
answered, soberly, ’Yes, I took you there first,
for they love music, and are of our country; but up
among the great houses we shall not always do well.
The people there are busy or hard or idle, and care
nothing for harps and songs. Do not skip and
laugh too soon; for the day is long, and we have but
twelve pennies yet.’
Tessa walked more quietly, and rubbed
her cold hands, feeling that the world was a very
big place, and wondering how the children got on at
home without the little mother. Till noon they
did not earn much, for every one seemed in a hurry,
and the noise of many sleigh-bells drowned the music.
Slowly they made their way up to the great squares
where the big houses were, with fine ladies and pretty
children at the windows. Here Tessa sung all
her best songs, and Tommo played as fast as his fingers
could fly; but it was too cold to have the windows
open, so the pretty children could not listen long,
and the ladies tossed out a little money, and soon
went back to their own affairs.
All the afternoon the two friends
wandered about, singing and playing, and gathering
up their small harvest. At dusk they went home,
Tessa so hoarse she could hardly speak, and so tired
she fell asleep over her supper. But she had
made half a dollar, for Tommo divided the money fairly,
and she felt rich with her share. The other days
were very much like this; sometimes they made more,
sometimes less, but Tommo always ‘went halves;’
and Tessa kept on, in spite of cold and weariness,
for her plans grew as her earnings increased, and
now she hoped to get useful things, instead of candy
and toys alone.
On the day before Christmas she made
herself as tidy as she could, for she hoped to earn
a good deal. She tied a bright scarlet handkerchief
over the old hood, and the brilliant color set off
her brown cheeks and bright eyes, as well as the pretty
black braids of her hair. Tommo’s mother
lent her a pair of boots so big that they turned up
at the toes, but there were no holes in them, and
Tessa felt quite elegant in whole boots. Her
hands were covered with chilblains, for she had no
mittens; but she put them under her shawl, and scuffled
merrily away in her big boots, feeling so glad that
the week was over, and nearly three dollars safe in
her pocket. How gay the streets were that day!
how brisk every one was, and how bright the faces
looked, as people trotted about with big baskets,
holly-wreaths, and young evergreens going to blossom
into splendid Christmas trees!
’If I could have a tree for
the children, I’d never want anything again.
But I can’t; so I’ll fill the socks all
full, and be happy,’ said Tessa, as she looked
wistfully into the gay stores, and saw the heavy baskets
go by.
‘Who knows what may happen if
we do well?’ returned Tommo, nodding wisely,
for he had a plan as well as Tessa, and kept chuckling
over it as he trudged through the mud. They did
not do well somehow, for every one seemed so
full of their own affairs they could not stop to listen,
even to ‘Bella Monica,’ but bustled away
to spend their money in turkeys, toys, and trees.
In the afternoon it began to rain, and poor Tessa’s
heart to fail her; for the big boots tired her feet,
the cold wind made her hands ache, and the rain spoilt
the fine red handkerchief. Even Tommo looked
sober, and didn’t whistle as he walked, for he
also was disappointed, and his plan looked rather
doubtful, the pennies came in so slowly.
’We’ll try one more street,
and then go home, thou art so tired, little one.
Come; let me wipe thy face, and give me thy hand here
in my jacket pocket; there it will be as warm as any
kitten;’ and kind Tommo brushed away the drops
which were not all rain from Tessa’s cheeks,
tucked the poor hand into his ragged pocket, and led
her carefully along the slippery streets, for the
boots nearly tripped her up.
II.
At the first house, a cross old gentleman
flapped his newspaper at them; at the second, a young
gentleman and lady were so busy talking that they
never turned their heads, and at the third, a servant
came out and told them to go away, because some one
was sick. At the fourth, some people let them
sing all their songs and gave nothing. The next
three houses were empty; and the last of all showed
not a single face as they looked up anxiously.
It was so cold, so dark and discouraging, that Tessa
couldn’t help one sob; and, as he glanced down
at the little red nose and wet figure beside him,
Tommo gave his harp an angry thump, and said something
very fierce in Italian. They were just going to
turn away; but they didn’t, for that angry thump
happened to be the best thing they could have done.
All of a sudden a little head appeared at the window,
as if the sound had brought it; then another and another,
till there were five, of all heights and colors, and
five eager faces peeped out, smiling and nodding to
the two below.
‘Sing, Tessa; sing! Quick!
quick!’ cried Tommo, twanging away with all
his might, and showing his white teeth, as he smiled
back at the little gentle-folk.
Bless us! How Tessa did tune
up at that! She chirped away like a real bird,
forgetting all about the tears on her cheeks, the ache
in her hands, and the heaviness at her heart.
The children laughed, and clapped their hands, and
cried ’More! more! Sing another, little
girl! Please do!’ And away they went again,
piping and playing, till Tessa’s breath was
gone, and Tommo’s stout fingers tingled well.
’Mamma says, come to the door;
it’s too muddy to throw the money into the street!’
cried out a kindly child’s voice as Tessa held
up the old cap, with beseeching eyes.
Up the wide stone steps went the street
musicians, and the whole flock came running down to
give a handful of silver, and ask all sorts of questions.
Tessa felt so grateful that, without waiting for Tommo,
she sang her sweetest little song all alone.
It was about a lost lamb, and her heart was in the
song; therefore she sang it well, so well that a pretty
young lady came down to listen, and stood watching
the bright-eyed girl, who looked about her as she
sang, evidently enjoying the light and warmth of the
fine hall, and the sight of the lovely children with
their gay dresses, shining hair, and dainty little
shoes.
‘You have a charming voice,
child. Who taught you to sing?’ asked the
young lady kindly.
‘My mother. She is dead
now; but I do not forget,’ answered Tessa, in
her pretty broken English.
‘I wish she could sing at our
tree, since Bella is ill,’ cried one of the
children peeping through the banisters.
’She is not fair enough for
the angel, and too large to go up in the tree.
But she sings sweetly, and looks as if she would like
to see a tree,’ said the young lady.
‘Oh, so much!’ exclaimed
Tessa; adding eagerly, ’my sister Ranza is small
and pretty as a baby-angel. She could sit up in
the fine tree, and I could sing for her from under
the table.’
‘Sit down and warm yourself,
and tell me about Ranza,’ said the kind elder
sister, who liked the confiding little girl, in spite
of her shabby clothes.
So Tessa sat down and dried the big
boots over the furnace, and told her story, while
Tommo stood modestly in the background, and the children
listened with faces full of interest.
’O Rose! let us see the little
girl; and if she will do, let us have her, and Tessa
can learn our song, and it will be splendid!’
cried the biggest boy, who sat astride of a chair,
and stared at the harp with round eyes.
‘I’ll ask mamma,’
said Rose; and away she went into the dining-room
close by. As the door opened, Tessa saw what looked
to her like a fairy feast, — all silver mugs
and flowery plates and oranges and nuts and rosy wine
in tall glass pitchers, and smoking dishes that smelt
so deliciously she could not restrain a little sniff
of satisfaction.
‘Are you hungry?’ asked the boy, in a
grand tone.
‘Yes, sir,’ meekly answered Tessa.
‘I say, mamma; she wants something
to eat. Can I give her an orange?’ called
the boy, prancing away into the splendid room, quite
like a fairy prince, Tessa thought.
A plump motherly lady came out and
looked at Tessa, asked a few questions, and then told
her to come to-morrow with Ranza, and they would see
what could be done. Tessa clapped her hands for
joy, — she didn’t mind the chilblains
now, — and Tommo played a lively march, he
was so pleased.
’Will you come, too, and bring
your harp? You shall be paid, and shall have
something from the tree, likewise,’ said the
motherly lady, who liked what Tessa gratefully told
about his kindness to her.
’Ah, yes; I shall come with
much gladness, and play as never in my life before,’
cried Tommo, with a flourish of the old cap that made
the children laugh.
‘Give these to your brothers,’
said the fairy prince, stuffing nuts and oranges into
Tessa’s hands.
‘And these to the little girl,’
added one of the young princesses, flying out of the
dining-room with cakes and rosy apples for Ranza.
Tessa didn’t know what to say;
but her eyes were full, and she just took the mother’s
white hand in both her little grimy ones, and kissed
it many times in her pretty Italian fashion.
The lady understood her, and stroked her cheek softly,
saying to her elder daughter, ’We must take
care of this good little creature. Freddy, bring
me your mittens; these poor hands must be covered.
Alice, get your play-hood; this handkerchief is all
wet; and, Maud, bring the old chinchilla tippet.’
The children ran, and in a minute
there were lovely blue mittens on the red hands, a
warm hood over the black braids, and a soft ‘pussy’
round the sore throat.
’Ah! so kind, so very kind!
I have no way to say “thank you;” but Ranza
shall be for you a heavenly angel, and I will sing
my heart out for your tree!’ cried Tessa, folding
the mittens as if she would say a prayer of thankfulness
if she knew how.
Then they went away, and the pretty
children called after them, ’Come again, Tessa!
come again, Tommo!’ Now the rain didn’t
seem dismal, the wind cold, nor the way long, as they
bought their gifts and hurried home, for kind words
and the sweet magic of charity had changed all the
world to them.
I think the good spirits who fly about
on Christmas Eve, to help the loving fillers of little
stockings, smiled very kindly on Tessa as she brooded
joyfully over the small store of presents that seemed
so magnificent to her. All the goodies were divided
evenly into three parts and stowed away in father’s
three big socks, which hung against the curtain.
With her three dollars, she had got a pair of shoes
for Nono, a knit cap for Sep, and a pair of white
stockings for Ranza; to her she also gave the new
hood; to Nono the mittens; and to Sep the tippet.
’Now the dear boys can go out,
and my Ranza will be ready for the lady to see, in
her nice new things,’ said Tessa, quite sighing
with pleasure to see how well the gifts looked pinned
up beside the bulging socks, which wouldn’t
hold them all. The little mother kept nothing
for herself but the pleasure of giving everything
away; yet, I think, she was both richer and happier
than if she had kept them all. Her father laughed
as he had not done since the mother died, when he
saw how comically the old curtain had broken out into
boots and hoods, stockings and tippets.
’I wish I had a gold gown and
a silver hat for thee, my Tessa, thou art so good.
May the saints bless and keep thee always!’ said
Peter Benari tenderly, as he held his little daughter
close, and gave her the good-night kiss.
Tessa felt very rich as she crept
under the faded counterpane, feeling as if she had
received a lovely gift, and fell happily asleep with
chubby Ranza in her arms, and the two rough black heads
peeping out at the foot of the bed. She dreamed
wonderful dreams that night, and woke in the morning
to find real wonders before her eyes. She got
up early, to see if the socks were all right, and
there she found the most astonishing sight. Four
socks, instead of three; and by the fourth, pinned
out quite elegantly was a little dress, evidently meant
for her — a warm, woollen dress, all made,
and actually with bright buttons on it. It nearly
took her breath away; so did the new boots on the
floor, and the funny long stocking like a grey sausage,
with a wooden doll staring out at the top, as if she
said, politely, ’A Merry Christmas, ma’am!’
Tessa screamed and danced in her delight, and up tumbled
all the children to scream and dance with her, making
a regular carnival on a small scale. Everybody
hugged and kissed everybody else, offered sucks of
orange, bites of cake, and exchanges of candy; every
one tried on the new things, and pranced about in them
like a flock of peacocks. Ranza skipped to and
fro airily, dressed in her white socks and the red
hood; the boys promenaded in their little shirts, one
with his creaking new shoes and mittens, the other
in his gay cap and fine tippet; and Tessa put her
dress straight on, feeling that her father’s
‘gold gown’ was not all a joke. In
her long stocking she found all sorts of treasures;
for Tommo had stuffed it full of queer things, and
his mother had made gingerbread into every imaginable
shape, from fat pigs to full omnibuses.
Dear me! What happy little souls
they were that morning; and when they were quiet again,
how like a fairy tale did Tessa’s story sound
to them. Ranza was quite ready to be an angel;
and the boys promised to be marvellously good, if
they were only allowed to see the tree at the ‘palace,’
as they called the great house.
Little Ranza was accepted with delight
by the kind lady and her children, and Tessa learned
the song quite easily. The boys were asked;
and, after a happy day, the young Italians all returned,
to play their parts at the fine Christmas party.
Mamma and Miss Rose drilled them all; and when the
folding-doors flew open, one rapturous ‘Oh!’
arose from the crowd of children gathered to the festival.
I assure you, it was splendid; the great tree glittering
with lights and gifts; and, on her invisible perch,
up among the green boughs, sat the little golden-haired
angel, all in white, with downy wings, a shining crown
on her head, and the most serene satisfaction in her
blue eyes, as she stretched her chubby arms to those
below, and smiled her baby smile at them. Before
any one could speak, a voice, as fresh and sweet as
a lark’s, sang the Christmas Carol so blithely
that every one stood still to hear, and then clapped
till the little angel shook on her perch, and cried
out, ’Be ‘till, or me’ll fall!’
How they laughed at that; and what fun they had talking
to Ranza, while Miss Rose stripped the tree, for the
angel could not resist temptation, and amused herself
by eating all the bonbons she could reach, till
she was taken down, to dance about like a fairy in
a white frock and red shoes. Tessa and her friends
had many presents; the boys were perfect lambs, Tommo
played for the little folks to dance, and every one
said something friendly to the strangers, so that
they did not feel shy, in spite of shabby clothes.
It was a happy night: and all their lives they
remembered it as something too beautiful and bright
to be quite true. Before they went home, the kind
mamma told Tessa she should be her friend, and gave
her a motherly kiss, which warmed the child’s
heart and seemed to set a seal upon that promise.
It was faithfully kept, for the rich lady had been
touched by Tessa’s patient struggles and sacrifices;
and for many years, thanks to her benevolence, there
was no end to Tessa’s Surprises.