“Yes. And I could see this house,” said Pa. All that long, terrible time he had been so near. The lamp in the window had not been able to shine into the blizzard at all, or he would have seen its light.
“My legs were so stiff and cramped that I could hardly stand on them,” said Pa. “But I saw this house and I started for home just as fast as I could go. And here I am!” he finished, hugging Laura and Mary.
Then he went to the big buffalo coat and he took out of one of its pockets a flat, square-edge can of bright tin. He asked, “What do you think I have brought you for Christmas dinner?”
They could not guess.
“Oysters!” said Pa. “Nice, fresh oysters! They were frozen solid when I got them, and they are frozen solid yet. Better put them in the lean-to, Caroline, so they will stay that way till tomorrow.”
Laura touched the can. It was cold as ice.
“I ate up the oyster crackers, and I ate up the Christmas candy, but by jinks,” said Pa, “I brought the oysters home!”
Chapter 40
Christmas Eve
Pa went early to do the chores that evening, and Jack went with him, staying close to his heels. Jack did not intend to lose sight of Pa again.
They came in, cold and snowy. Pa stamped the snow from his feet and hung his old coat with his cap on the nail by the lean-to door. “The wind is rising again,” he said. “We will have another blizzard before morning.”
“Just s
o you are here, Charles, I don’t care how much it storms,” said Ma.
Jack lay down contentedly and Pa sat warming his hands by the stove.
“Laura,” he said, “if you’ll bring me the fiddle-box I’ll play you a tune.”
Laura brought the fiddle-box to him. Pa tuned the fiddle and rosined the bow, and then while Ma cooked supper he filled the house with music.
“Oh, Charley he’s a fine young man,
Oh, Charley he’s a dandy!
Charley likes to kiss the girls
And he can do it handy!
“I don’t want none of your weevily wheat,
“I don’t want none of your barley,
I want fine flour in half an hour,
To bake a cake for Charley!”
Pa’s voice rollicked with the rollicking tune, and Carrie laughed and clapped her hands, and Laura’s feet were dancing.
Then the fiddle changed the tune and Pa began to sing about sweet Lily Dale.
“’Twas a calm, still night,
And the moon’s pale light
Shone soft o’er hill and vale…”
Pa glanced at Ma, busy at the stove, while Mary and Laura sat listening, and the fiddle slipped into frolicking up and down with his voice.