26. CHAPTER XXVI.
A MERRY CHRISTMAS.
The merry yule-tide came with jest and laughter and
abundant cheer; and joyful gatherings of how many
friends; and earnest blessings on the absent loved; and
charity toward all men, every where. Most merry was
it there in Meadow Branch Valley with roaring logs, and
great foaming bowls, and roasted turkeys, such as never
yet walked through the dreams of epicures, and all gay
adjuncts of the festal season.
“Festival” was very “high” in every house—even at
Mrs. Courtlandt's that good Catholic, who never betrayed
her connection with the church, but on such festive days.
The days were bright; the snow was covered over with
a mantle of sunlight; the frost upon the window panes
reared its grand fairy palaces for merry children. Mirth
and gay-hearted laughter reigned undisputed, and every
where Saint Nick came visiting with most capacious
valises, holding fabulous amounts of good things.
Christmas was kept with great joy and heartiness, at
father Von Horn's and hunter John's. And here we will
record an historical fact of some interest. Father Von
Horn first introduced the Christmas Tree, a German
custom, now so universal in our land. Upon his hospitable
board was raised for the first time in Virginia that
evergreen pine which now is every where the emblem of
the season—which rains on children's heads such magical
fruit; which has wholly routed and put to flight the old
English “Christmas-box.” Saint Nick for the first time
deviated from his route and came to Meadow Branch,
and hung his presents on the fairy pine.
But where are we wandering? Shall we describe
those Christmases, and bring our musty historic disquisitions
as a sauce to our description? Why should we attempt
to catch some of the aroma of the jubilant festival,
when the whole record lies untranslatable on every heart-tablet?
Is it not all written in the Book of the Chronicles
of Christmas kept safely in those loving memories?
But we must not pass by one circumstance which
made the merry yule-tide merrier, in Meadow Branch.
This was the marriage of Nina with the gentleman whose
name has appeared so often in this history; Mr.—now
Doctor—Maximilian Courtlandt. That happy event came
in due time, and father Von Horn's measure of joy was
full. The old man now was satisfied; he could die in
peace he said, with Max to take care of his dear daughter;
and should we never again in this brief history recognize
that cheerful face, or listen to that hearty loving voice,
we may at least be sure that that true loyal soul, was
now once more most happy.
Max was again the son indeed of his fond uncle; and
Nina gave her whole heart to him—Nina so merry but so
earnest in her tender love; so changeable but ah! so
close-bound now with golden chains by her true love; her
love for that much-wept companion of her youth: lost to
them all so long, her own at last.
