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Mr. Bluff's Experiences Of Holidays · The Children's Book of Christmas Stories

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  Speaker 1: Story number thirty of the Children's Book of Christmas Stories.
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  Speaker 1: This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in
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  Speaker 1: the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please
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  Speaker 1: visit LibriVox dot org. Recording by Alissa mc caslin, July
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  Speaker 1: two thousand twelve. Children's Book of Christmas Stories by various artists.
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  Speaker 1: Mister Bluff's Experiences of Holidays by Oliver Bell Bunts. I
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  Speaker 1: hate holidays, said bachelor Bluff to me with some little
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  Speaker 1: irritation on a Christmas a few years ago. Then he
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  Speaker 1: paused an instant, after which he resumed, I don't mean
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  Speaker 1: to say that I hate to see people enjoin themselves,
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  Speaker 1: but I hate holidays nevertheless, because to me there always
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  Speaker 1: the saddest and dreariest days of the year. I shudder
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  Speaker 1: at the name of holiday. I dread the approach of one,
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  Speaker 1: and thank Heaven when it is over. I pass through
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  Speaker 1: on a holiday, the most horrible sensation, the bitterest feelings,
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  Speaker 1: the most oppressive, melancholy. In fact, I'm not myself at
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  Speaker 1: holiday times, very strange. I ventured to interpose a plague
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  Speaker 1: on it, said he, almost with violence. I'm not inhuman.
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  Speaker 1: I don't wish anybody harm. I'm glad people can enjoy themselves.
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  Speaker 1: But I hate holidays all the same. You see, this
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  Speaker 1: is the reason I'm a bachelor. I'm without kin. I'm
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  Speaker 1: in a place that did not know me at birth,
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  Speaker 1: and so when holidays come around, there's no place anywhere
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  Speaker 1: for me. I have friends, of course, I don't think
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  Speaker 1: I've been a very sulky, shut in, reticent fellow, and
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  Speaker 1: there is many a board that has a place for me,
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  Speaker 1: but not at Christmas time. At Christmas, the dinner is
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  Speaker 1: a family gathering, and I've no family. There is such
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  Speaker 1: a gathering of kindred on this occasion, such a reunion
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  Speaker 1: of family folk, that there is no place for a friend,
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  Speaker 1: even if the friend be liked. Christmas, with all its
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  Speaker 1: kindliness and charity and good will, is after all deuced selfish.
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  Speaker 1: Each little set gathers within its own circle, and people
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  Speaker 1: like me, with no particular circle, are left in the lurch.
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  Speaker 1: So you see, on the day of all the days
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  Speaker 1: in the year that my heart pines for good cheer,
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  Speaker 1: I'm without an invitation. Oh it's because I pine for
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  Speaker 1: good cheer, said the bachelor, sharply interrupting my attempt to
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  Speaker 1: speak that I hate holidays. If I were an infernally
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  Speaker 1: selfish fellow, I wouldn't hate holidays. I'd go off and
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  Speaker 1: have some fun all to myself somewhere or somehow. But
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  Speaker 1: you see, I hate to be in the dark when
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  Speaker 1: all the rest of the world is in light. I
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  Speaker 1: hate holidays because I ought to be merry and happy
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  Speaker 1: on holidays and can't. Don't tell me, he cried, stopping
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  Speaker 1: the word that was on my lips. I tell you,
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  Speaker 1: I hate holidays. The shops look merry, do they, with
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  Speaker 1: their bright toys and their green brain branches. The pan
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  Speaker 1: of mine is crowded with merry hearts, is it. The
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  Speaker 1: circus in the show are brim full of fun and laughter,
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  Speaker 1: are they? Well, they all make me miserable. I haven't
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  Speaker 1: any pretty faced girls or bright eyed boys to take
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  Speaker 1: to the circus or the show. And all the nice
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  Speaker 1: girls and fine boys of my acquaintance have their uncles
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  Speaker 1: and their granddads or their cousins to take them to
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  Speaker 1: those places. So if I go, I must go alone.
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  Speaker 1: But I don't go. I can't bear the chill of
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  Speaker 1: seeing everybody happy and knowing myself so lonely and desolate
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  Speaker 1: confound it, sir. I've too much heart to be happy
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  Speaker 1: under such circumstances. I'm too humane, sir, And the result
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  Speaker 1: is I hate holidays. It's miserable to be out, and
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  Speaker 1: yet I can't stay at home for I get thinking
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  Speaker 1: of Christmas past. I can't read. The shadow of my
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  Speaker 1: heart makes it impossible. I can't walk, for I see
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  Speaker 1: nothing but pictures through the bright windows and happy groups
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  Speaker 1: of pleasure seekers. The fact is I've nothing to do
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  Speaker 1: but to hate holidays. But will you not dine with me?
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  Speaker 1: Of course I have to plead engagement with my own
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  Speaker 1: family circle, and I couldn't quite invite mister Bluff home
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  Speaker 1: that day, when cousin Charles and his wife, and sister
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  Speaker 1: Susan and her daughter, and three of my wife's kin
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  Speaker 1: have come in from the country, all to make a
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  Speaker 1: merry Christmas with us. I felt sorry, but it was
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  Speaker 1: quite impossible. So I wished mister Bluff a merry Christmas
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  Speaker 1: and hurried homeward through the cold and nipping air. I
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  Speaker 1: did not meet Bachelor Bluff again until a week after
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  Speaker 1: Christmas of the next year, when I learned some strange
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  Speaker 1: particulars of what occurred to him after our parting on
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  Speaker 1: the occasion just described, I will let bachelor Bluff tell
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  Speaker 1: his adventure for himself. I went to church, said he,
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  Speaker 1: and was as sad there as everywhere else. Of course,
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  Speaker 1: the evergrains were pretty and the music fine. But all
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  Speaker 1: around me were happy groups of people who could scarcely
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  Speaker 1: keep down merry Christmas long enough to do reverence to
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  Speaker 1: Sacred Christmas. And nobody was alone but me. Every happy
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  Speaker 1: pat or Familius in his pew tantalized me, and the
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  Speaker 1: whole atmosphere of the place seemed so much better suited
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  Speaker 1: to every one else than me, that I came away
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  Speaker 1: hating holidays worse than ever. Then I went to the
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  Speaker 1: play and sat down in a box all alone by myself.
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  Speaker 1: Everybody seemed on the best of terms with everybody else,
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  Speaker 1: and jokes and banter passed from one to another with
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  Speaker 1: the most good natured freedom. Everybody but me was in
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  Speaker 1: a little group of friends. I was the only person
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  Speaker 1: in the whole theater that was alone. And then there
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  Speaker 1: was such clapping of hands and roars of laughter and
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  Speaker 1: shouts of delight at all the fun going on upon
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  Speaker 1: the stage, all of which was rendered doubly enjoyable by
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  Speaker 1: everybody having somebody with whom to share and interchange. The
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  Speaker 1: pleasure that my loneliness got simpler unbearable, and I hated
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  Speaker 1: holidays infinitely worse than ever. By five o'clock, the holiday
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  Speaker 1: became so intolerable that I said I'd go and get
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  Speaker 1: a dinner, the best dinner the town could provide, A
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  Speaker 1: sumptuous dinner for one, a dinner with many courses, with
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  Speaker 1: wines of the finest brands, with bright lights, with a
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  Speaker 1: cheerful fire, with every condition of comfort. And I'd see
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  Speaker 1: if I couldn't for once extract a little pleasure out
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  Speaker 1: of a holiday. The handsome dining room at the club
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  Speaker 1: looked bright, but it was empty. Who dines at this
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  Speaker 1: club on Christmas but lonely bachelors. There was a flutter
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  Speaker 1: of surprise when I ordered a dinner, and the few
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  Speaker 1: attendants were, no doubt glad of something to break the
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  Speaker 1: monotony of the hours. My dinner was well served. The
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  Speaker 1: spacious room looked lovely, but the white snowy cloths, the
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  Speaker 1: rich window hangings, the warm tints of the walls, the
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  Speaker 1: sparkle of the fire in the still grate gave the
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  Speaker 1: room and air of elegance and cheerfulness. And then the
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  Speaker 1: table at which I dined was close to the window,
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  Speaker 1: and through the partly drawn curtains were visible centers of
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  Speaker 1: lonely cold streets, with bright lights from many a window.
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  Speaker 1: It is true, but there was a storm, and snow
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  Speaker 1: began whirling through the street. I let my imagination paint
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  Speaker 1: the streets as cold and dreary as it would, just
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  Speaker 1: to extract a little pleasure by way of contrast from
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  Speaker 1: the brilliant room of which I was apparently soul master.
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  Speaker 1: I dined well, and recalled in fancy, old youthful Christmases,
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  Speaker 1: and pledged mentally many an old friend, and my melancholy
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  Speaker 1: was mellowing into a low, sad undertone, when just as
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  Speaker 1: I was raising a glass of wine in my lips,
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  Speaker 1: I was startled by a picture at the window pane.
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  Speaker 1: It was a pale, wild, haggard face in a great
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  Speaker 1: cloud of black hair pressed against the glass. As I looked,
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  Speaker 1: it vanished with a strange thrill at my heart, which
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  Speaker 1: my lips mocked with a derisive sneer. I finished the
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  Speaker 1: wine and set down the glass. It was, of course
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  Speaker 1: only a beggar girl that had crept up to the
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  Speaker 1: window and stole a glance at the bright scene within.
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  Speaker 1: But still the pale face troubled me a little and
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  Speaker 1: threw a fresh shadow on my heart. I filled my
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  Speaker 1: glass once more with wine, and was again about to
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  Speaker 1: drink when the face reappeared at the window. It was
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  Speaker 1: so white, so thin, with eyes so large, wild and
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  Speaker 1: hungry looking, and the black, unkept hair into which the
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  Speaker 1: snow had drifted, formed so strange and weird a frame
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  Speaker 1: to the picture that I was fairly startled. Replacing untasted
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  Speaker 1: the liquor on the table, I rose and went close
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  Speaker 1: to the pane. The face had vanished, and I could
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  Speaker 1: see no object within many feet of the window. The
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  Speaker 1: storm had increased, and the snow was driving in wild
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  Speaker 1: gusts through the streets, which were empty, save here and
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  Speaker 1: there a hurrying a wayfarer. The whole scene was cold,
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  Speaker 1: wild and desolate, and I could not repress a keen
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  Speaker 1: thrill of sympathy for the child, whoever it was, whose
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  Speaker 1: only Christmas was to watch in cold and storm, the
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  Speaker 1: rich banquet ungratefully enjoyed by the lonely bachelor. I resumed
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  Speaker 1: my place at the table, but the dinner was finished,
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  Speaker 1: and the wine had no further relish. I was haunted
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  Speaker 1: by the vision of the window, and began, with an
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  Speaker 1: unreasonable irritation at the interruption, to repeat with fresh warmth
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  Speaker 1: my detestation of holidays. One couldn't even dine alone on
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  Speaker 1: a holiday with any sort of comfort, I declared, on
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  Speaker 1: holidays one was tormented by too much pleasure on one
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  Speaker 1: side and too much misery on the other. And then
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  Speaker 1: I said, hunting for justification of my dislike of the day,
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  Speaker 1: how many other people are like me, made miserable by
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  Speaker 1: seeing the fullness of enjoyment others possess. Oh yes, I know,
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  Speaker 1: sar castically, replied the bachelor to a comment of mine.
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  Speaker 1: Of course, all magnanimous, generous and noble, souled people delight
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  Speaker 1: in seeing other people made happy, and are quite content
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  Speaker 1: to accept this vicarious felicity. But ah, you see, and
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  Speaker 1: this dear little girl, dear little girl, Oh, I forgot,
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  Speaker 1: said bachelor, bluff, blushing a little in spite of a
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  Speaker 1: desperate effort not to do so. I didn't tell you. Well,
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  Speaker 1: it was so absurd. I kept thinking, thinking of the pale, haggard,
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  Speaker 1: lonely little girl on the cold desolate side of the
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  Speaker 1: window pane, and the over fed, discontented, lonely old bachelor
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  Speaker 1: on the splendid side of the window pane. And I
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  Speaker 1: didn't get much happier thinking about it. I can assure you.
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  Speaker 1: I drank glass after glass of the wine, not that
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  Speaker 1: I enjoyed its flavor any more, but mechanically, as it were,
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  Speaker 1: and with a sort of hope thereby to drown unpleasant reminders.
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  Speaker 1: I tried to attribute my annoyance in the matter to holidays,
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  Speaker 1: and so denounced them more vehemently than ever. I rose
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  Speaker 1: once in a while and went to the window, but
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  Speaker 1: could see no one to whom the pale face could
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  Speaker 1: have belonged. At last, in no very amiable mood, I
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  Speaker 1: got up, put on my wrappers, and went out, And
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  Speaker 1: the first thing I did was to run against a
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  Speaker 1: small figure crouching in the doorway. A face looked up
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  Speaker 1: quickly at the rough encounter, and I saw the pale
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  Speaker 1: features of the window pane. I was very irritated and angry,
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  Speaker 1: and spoke harshly, and then all at once, I am sure.
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  Speaker 1: I don't know how it happened, but it flashed upon
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  Speaker 1: me that I, of all men, had no right to
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  Speaker 1: utter a harsh word to an one oppressed with so
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  Speaker 1: wretched a Christmas as this poor creature was. I couldn't
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  Speaker 1: say another word, but began feeling in my pocket for
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  Speaker 1: some money, and then I asked a question or two,
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  Speaker 1: and then I don't quite know how it came about.
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  Speaker 1: Isn't it very warm here? Exclaimed bachelor Bluff, rising and
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  Speaker 1: walking about and wiping the perspiration from his brow. Well,
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  Speaker 1: you see, he resumed nervously. It was very absurd, But
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  Speaker 1: I did believe the girl's story, the old story, you know,
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  Speaker 1: of privation and suffering, and just thought i'd go home
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  Speaker 1: with the brat and see if what she said was
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  Speaker 1: all true. And then I remembered that all the shops
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  Speaker 1: were closed and not a purchase could be made. I
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  Speaker 1: went back and persuaded the steward to put up for
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  Speaker 1: me a hamper of provisions, which the half wild little
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  Speaker 1: youngster helped me carry through the snow, dancing with delight
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  Speaker 1: all the way. And isn't this enough? Not a bit,
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  Speaker 1: mister Bluff, I must have the whole story, I declare,
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  Speaker 1: said bachelor Bluff. There's no whole story to tell a
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  Speaker 1: widow with children in great need. That was what I found.
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  Speaker 1: And they had a feast that night, and a little
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  Speaker 1: money to buy them a load of wood and a
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  Speaker 1: garment or two the next day. And they were all
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  Speaker 1: so bright and so merry, and so thankful and so
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  Speaker 1: good that when I got home that night, I was
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  Speaker 1: mightily amazed that instead of going to bed sour at holidays,
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  Speaker 1: I was in a state of great contentment in regard
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  Speaker 1: to holidays. In fact, I was really merry. I whistled,
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  Speaker 1: I sang, I do believe I cut a caper. The
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  Speaker 1: poor wretches I had left had been so merry over
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  Speaker 1: their unlooked for Christmas banquet that their spirits infected mine.
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  Speaker 1: And then I got thinking again. Of course holidays had
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  Speaker 1: been miserable to me, I said, what right had a
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  Speaker 1: well to do, lonely old bachelor hovering wistfully in the
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  Speaker 1: vicinity of happy circles, when all about there were so
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  Speaker 1: many people as lonely as he, and yet oppressed with want.
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  Speaker 1: Good gracious, I exclaimed to think of a man complaining
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  Speaker 1: of loneliness with thousands of wretches yearning for his help
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  Speaker 1: and comfort, with endless opportunities for work and company, with
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  Speaker 1: hundreds of pleasant and delightful things to do. Just to
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  Speaker 1: think of it, it put me in a great fury
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  Speaker 1: at myself to think of it. I tried pretty hard
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  Speaker 1: to escape from myself, and began inventing excuses and all
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  Speaker 1: that sort of thing. But I rigidly forced myself to
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  Speaker 1: look squarely at my own conduct. And then I reconciled
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  Speaker 1: my confidence by declaring that if ever after that day
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  Speaker 1: I hated a holiday again, might my holiday's end at once?
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  Speaker 1: And forever did I go and see my proteges again?
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  Speaker 1: What a question? Why? Well, no matter. If the widow
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  Speaker 1: is comfortable now, it is because she has found a
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  Speaker 1: way to earn without difficulty enough for her few wants.
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  Speaker 1: That's no fault of mine. I would have done more
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  Speaker 1: for her, but she wouldn't let me. But just let
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  Speaker 1: me tell you about New Year's The New Year's Day
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  Speaker 1: that followed the Christmas I've been described, It was lucky
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  Speaker 1: for me there was another holiday, only a week off.
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  Speaker 1: Bless you. I had so much to do that day.
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  Speaker 1: I was completely bewiltered, and the hours weren't half long enough.
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  Speaker 1: I did make a few social calls, but then I
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  Speaker 1: hurried them over and then hastened to my little girl,
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  Speaker 1: whose face had already caught a touch of color, and
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  Speaker 1: she looking quite handsome in her new frock and a
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  Speaker 1: Ribbons took me to other poor folk. And well that's
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  Speaker 1: about the whole story. Oh as to the next Christmas,
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  Speaker 1: Well I didn't dine alone, as you may guess. It
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  Speaker 1: was up three stairs, that's true, and there was none
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  Speaker 1: of that elegance that marked the dinner of the year before.
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  Speaker 1: But it was merry and happy and bright. It was
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  Speaker 1: a generous, honest, hearty Christmas dinner, that it was, although
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  Speaker 1: I do wish the widow hadn't talked so much about
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  Speaker 1: the mysterious way a turkey had been left at her
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  Speaker 1: door the night before. And Mollie, that's the little girl,
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  Speaker 1: and I had a rousing appetite. We went to church early. Then,
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  Speaker 1: we had been down to the Five Points to carry
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  Speaker 1: the poor outcast there something for their Christmas dinner. In fact,
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  Speaker 1: we had done wonders of work, and Mollie was in
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  Speaker 1: high spirits, and so the Christmas dinner was a great success.
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  Speaker 1: Dear me, sir, No, just as you say, holidays are
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  Speaker 1: not in the least wearisome any more plague on it.
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  Speaker 1: When a man tells me now that he hates holidays,
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  Speaker 1: I find myself getting very wroth. I pin him by
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  Speaker 1: the buttonhole at once and tell him my experience. The
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  Speaker 1: fact is, if I were at dinner on a holiday,
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  Speaker 1: and anybody should ask me for a sentiment, I should say,
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  Speaker 1: God bless all holidays. And of mister Bluff's experiences of
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  Speaker 1: holidays by Oliver Bell Bunts