Two Girls of Gettysburg by Lisa Klein Read Free Book Online Page B

stars and stood it on the parlor table, where it gave off a piney scent. On Christmas Eve, Rosanna and Margaret and the children came over for dinner, so the house wouldn’t seem so empty without Papa and Luke. Ben raced around the house with Jack and Clara taking turns riding on his back and shrieking with excitement. The aromas of savory ham, mince pie, and peppermint filled the house. After dinner we lit the candles on the tree and watched it with great care, for one year a neighbor’s house had burned to the ground when a Christmas candle ignited the decorations.
Another letter came from Papa and Luke, thanking us for the warm clothes and food. They were snug in their new winter barracks and expecting extra rations for the holiday. Included was a photograph of Papa sitting before a white tent, holding his hat in his lap, and Luke standing with his hand on Papa’s shoulder, his cap askew. Papa’s mustache had grown long and curved like a ram’s horn, and his face looked gaunt. Luke’s face was somewhat blurred. We put the picture in a frame, set it beside the tree, and sat around Christmas morning gazing at it until it was time for church.
While Papa’s letter cheered us, the end bothered me like a splinter in a finger. He had written: Your good news about the business heartens me. You can consult Matthias Schupp the York butcher this winter; he owes me a favor. Make a good deal with A. Trostle to keep his fat steers coming. If Schmidt opens a 2 nd tavern persuade him to double his order. Next time include with your summary exact figures re: expenses & income.
“What are we going to do?” I finally said to Mama. “We can’t hide from Papa any longer that we’re losing money.”
“Put aside your worries for one day at least,” she said, taking a steaming pie from the oven.
The door slammed and Ben came in, along with a blast of cold air and the smell of stables. My brother had found a small job brushing horses and hauling hay for a New York regiment stationed at the public school.
“How much did you earn this week?” I asked.
“I got two dollars, on account of Christmas.” He held out the coins to Mama, who took them, leaving him four nickels. Ben tried to give her two of those nickels, but she wouldn’t take them, even though we needed every penny of that extra money. Mama had sold the silver candlesticks to cover household expenses until we figured out how to increase our income from the shop.
Still humming, she tucked away the coins and began to fix up a hamper with a fresh meat pie, homemade preserves, and hot bread. I hoped her good mood would last through Christmas dinner. Every time we sat down to eat, the two empty chairs at the kitchen table filled me with longing. Mama would gaze at them and squeeze our hands tightly while saying grace.
“Why are you packing a basket of food?” I asked.
“It’s for Amos. He deserves a good Christmas meal. In fact, I want you both to take it to him now.”
“But I just got in! It’s freezing outside, and the food will be cold before we get there,” protested Ben, but he put his coat back on anyway
Mama wrapped everything in a blanket to keep the heat in. “Be home by dark. And bring back the blanket and basket.”
I was ashamed that I hadn’t thought of doing something special for Amos. I put on my cloak and Mama’s cape for extra warmth. Mama wrapped Ben’s muffler around his head until only his eyes were visible.
“That will stifle your complaining,” she said, giving him a hug.
We didn’t know exactly where Amos lived, though Mama guessed it was on the southwestern edge of town, where all the Negroes lived. So Ben and I set out, walking briskly to stay warm. It was late afternoon and the sky was growing dim. The windows of the houses glowed with lamplight. Passing Mrs. Pierpont’s school on the corner of High and Washington Streets, we heard someone playing a piano. Along Washington Street, we kept close to the houses to avoid the biting wind. At