O.Genri. Afsungarlarning tuhfalari
O.Henry. The Gift of the Magi
|
Bir dollaru sakson yetti sent. Bor puli shu edi. Ulardan oltmish senti bir sentli chaqalardan iborat. Àna shu chaqalarning har biri uchun baqqol, rezavorfurush, qassob bilan shu qadar savdolashishga toʼgʼri keldiki, bu tariqa ziqnalik tufayli tugʼilgan soʼzsiz norozilikdan quloqlarigacha qizarib ketardi. Della uch marta sanab koʼrdi. Bir dollaru sakson yetti sent. Ertaga esa melod bayrami.
Bu vajiga kelganda oʼzini eski chorpoyaga tappa tashlab, oʼkrab yigʼlashdan boshqa chorasi yoʼq edi. Della xuddi ana shunday qildi. Bundan shunday falsafiy xulosa kelib chiqdiki, hayot yigʼi-sigʼi, oh-voh va tabassumlardan iborat, ammo oh-voh koʼproq.
Uy bekasi ana shu poyalarning barchasidan oʼtib boʼlguncha, uyning oʼzini koʼzdan kechiraylik. Haftasiga sakkiz dollar ijara haqi toʼlab turiladigan jihozli kvartira. Vaziyatdan oʼtaketgan qashshoqlik emas, toʼgʼrirogʼi, aytmasa ham ayon-oshkor koʼrinib turgan kambagʼallik koʼzga tashlanadi. Pastda kiraverishdagi eshikka osigʼliq xat tashlanadigan qutining tirqishidan bironta ham xat sigʼmaydi, elektr qoʼngʼiroqning tugmasini bitta-yarimta odam bosgudek boʼlsa, tiq etgan tovush eshitilmasdi. Àna shularga: «M-r Jeyms Dillingxem Yung» degan yozuvi bor bir qogʼoz havola qilingan edi. Mazkur nomning egasi haftasiga oʼttiz dollar olib turadigan yaqin vaqtlardagi badavlatlik kezlarida «Dillingxem» qulochini yozib yuborgan edi. Endilikka kelib, ana shu daromad yigirma dollarga tushib qolgach, «Dillingxem» soʼzidagi harflar, toʼporiyu kamtargina «D» harfiga qisqarsak boʼlmasmikan, deb astoydil andisha qilgandek xira tortgan edi. Àmmo mister Jeyms Dillingxem Yung uyga qaytib yuqori qavatga chiqib borarkan, biz hali sizga Della nomi bilan tanishtirgan missis Jeyms Dillingxem Yung uni albatta «Jim!», deya xitob qilgancha mehr bilan quchoq ochib kutib olardi. Bu esa, darhaqiqat, dilni xushlaydi.
Della yigʼini bas qilib, yonoqlarini upali momiq bilan artdi. Hozir u deraza oldida turar va kulrang hovli boʼylab oʼtgan kulrang devor ustida kezib yurgan kulrang mushukni mayusgina kuzatar edi. Ertaga melod bayrami, uning esa Jimga sovgʼa olgulik bir dollaru sakson yetti sentgina puli bor, xolos! Uzoq oylar davomida u har bir sentni tuflab tugib keldi. Jamgʼargani esa mana shu boʼlibdi. Haftasiga yigirma dollar bilan oshib-toshib ketmaysan. Sarf-xarajatlar uning moʼljalidagidan koʼproq chiqib qoldi. Sarf-xarajatlar doim shunday boʼladi. Jimga sovgʼa olgulik bir dollaru sakson yetti sent puli bor! Jimginasiga sovgʼa olay desa!.. Melod bayrami munosabati bilan unga nima sovgʼa qilishni rejalay-rejalay qanchadan-qancha soatlarni xursandchilik bilan oʼtkazdi. Bironta gʼoyat alomat, kamyob, qimmatbaho, Jimga mansublikdek yuksak sharafga aqalli sal-pal munosib keladigan qandaydir antiqa sovgʼa boʼlishi kerak.
Ikki deraza oraligʼida tryumo turardi. Siz hech qachon sakkiz dollar toʼlab turiladigan jihozli kvartiradagi tryumoga qarab koʼrganmisiz? Juda ozgʼin va juda serharakat odamgina uning ensiz oynalarida ketma-ket oʼzgarayotgan aksiga qarab, oʼzining tashqi qiyofasi haqida anchagina aniq tasavvur hosil qilishi mumkin. Ushoq jussali Della bunday mahoratni egallab olgan edi.
U deraza oldidan dafʼatan oyna tomon oʼtdi. Koʼzlari charaqlar, ammo yigirma sekund mobaynida yuzini qizillik tark etgan edi. U chaqqonlik bilan toʼgʼnogʼichlarini sugʼurib sochlarini yozib yubordi.
Sizlarga aytib qoʼyishim kerakki, er-xotin Jeyms Dillingxem Yunglarning faxru iftixorlari boʼlgan ikkita bebaho boyligi bor edi. Biri — Jimning bobosi bilan otasidan qolgan tilla soati, ikkinchisi Dellaning sochlari. Mabodo malika Bilqis roʼparalaridagi uyda yashayotgan boʼlsa bormi, Della hazrati oliyalarining barcha yasan-tusan liboslariyu zeb-ziynatlarini yoʼlda qoldirib ketish uchun boshini yuvgach, oʼrilmagan sochlarini ataylab deraza oldida quritgan boʼlardi. Bordiyu, Sulaymon podsho ana shu uyda eshik ogʼasi boʼlib xizmat qilayotgan, bor davlatini oʼsha uyning yertoʼlasida saqlayotgan boʼlsa bormi, Jim uning hasaddan soqolini bittalab yulayotganini koʼrish uchunoq oldidan oʼta turib joʼrttaga choʼntagidan soatini olib qaraydigan boʼlardi.
Mana, Dellaning ajoyib sochlari xuddi kashtanrang shalola toʼlqinlaridek jilvalangancha, mavjlangancha sochilib ketdi. Tizzasidan pastga sollanib tushgan sochlari qaddi-bastini rido kabi oʼrab oldi. U esa shu ondayoq asabiylashgancha va oshiqqancha, ularni yigʼishtirib ola boshladi. Keyin xuddi taraddudlangandek, bir daqiqa qimir etmay qoldida, eskirgan qizil palosga ikki yo uch tomchi yosh dumalab tushdi.
Nimdoshgina jigarrang jaketini yelkasiga tashlab, eskigina jigarrang shlyapasini boshiga qoʼndirdida, koʼzlarida yaltirab turgan yosh qurimagan holda, yubkasini hilpiratgan koʼyi gʼizillagancha koʼchaga tushib bordi.
U qarshisiga borib toʼxtagan lavhaga shu soʼzlar yozilgan edi: «M-me Sophronie. Sochdan yasaladigan turli-tuman mahsulotlar». Della ikkinchi qavatga yugurib chiqdida, nafasi tiqilib halloslagancha turib qoldi.
— Mening sochimni sotib olmaysizmi?— deb soʼradi u xonimdan.
— Soch sotib olaman,— deb javob berdi xonim.— Shlyapangizni yeching, molni koʼrishim kerak. Kashtanrang shalola yana mavjlandi.
— Yigirma dollar,— dedi xonim, qalin sochni odatiga koʼra salmoqlanib koʼrarkan.
— Tezroq boʼlaqoling,— dedi Della.
Shundan keyingi ikki soat vaqti nimpushti qanotlar bilan ucha-ucha oʼtdi — siyqasi chiqqan istiram uchun uzr soʼrayman. Della Jim uchun sovgʼa qidirib magazinma-magazin izgʼidi.
Nihoyat, topdi. Bu, shubhasiz, Jim uchun, faqat unga atab yaratilgan edi. Boshqa magazinlarda sira ham bunga oʼxshagan narsa topolmagan, oʼzi ham ularning hamma yogʼini ostin-ustin qilib yuborgan edi. Bu choʼntak soatiga taqiladigan oddiy va sipo nusxali platina zanjir edi, u namoyishkorona yaltiroqligi bilan emas, chinakam qadri bilan maftun etardi — zotan barcha yaxshi buyumlar shunday boʼlishi kerak. Uni hatto soatga munosib desa degulik edi. Della uni koʼrishi bilanoq oq zanjir Jimga atalganligini payqadi. U ham xuddi Jimning oʼzginasi edi. Kamtarlik va sipolik — ikkovlariga xos fazilat edi. Kassaga yigirma bir dollar toʼladida, Della choʼntagida sakson yetti sent bilan uyiga oshiqdi. Basharti shunday zanjiri boʼlsa, Jim har qanday jamoat orasida ham tap tortmay soati necha boʼlganini koʼraverishi mumkin. Soati naqadar ajoyib boʼlishiga qaramay aksar unga oʼgʼrincha qarab olardi, negaki, soati rasvo charm tasmada osilib turardi.
Uyda Dellaning hayajoni bosilib, buning oʼrnini ehtiyot va tadbirkorlik egalladi? U sochini jingalak qiladigan miqrozi qisqichni oldida, gazni yoqib, muhabbat omuxtalashgan himmat tufayli yuzaga kelgan vayrongarlikni tuzatishga kirishdi. Bu esa hamisha mashaqqatli ish, doʼstlarim, mardonavor ish.
Qirq minutcha ham oʼtmagan ediki, boshini pishiq himarilgan kokilchalar qopladi, shu tufayli u xuddi darsdan qochgan oʼgʼil bolaga oʼxshab qoldi. Oynaga diqqat bilan uzoq tikilgancha oʼzini tanqidiy nazardan oʼtkazdi.
«Xoʼp,— dedi u oʼziga-oʼzi,— agar Jim koʼzi tushishi bilanoq meni oʼldirib qoʼymasa, Koni-Àylenddagi xorchi qizlarga oʼxshab qolibdi, der. Qoʼlimdagi pulim bir dollaru sakson yetti sent boʼlgandan keyin, axir, ilojim qancha edi, ilojim qancha edi!»
Soat yettida kahva damlab qoʼyilgan, gaz plitada qiziyotgan tova qoʼy goʼshtidan qilingan kotletlarga mahtal edi.
Jim hech qachon kechikmasdi. Della platina zanjirni kaftida siqib ushlagancha stolning ostonaga yaqinroq joyiga borib oʼtirdi. Tez orada erining zinapoyadan chiqib kelayotganini eshitib, bir lahzagina rangi quv oʼchib ketdi. Tirikchilik ikir-chikirlari vajidan xudoga iltijo qiladigan odati boʼlgani uchun shosha-pisha shivirladi:
— Xudoyo xudovando, uning mendan koʼngli qolmasin.
Eshik ochilib, ostonada koʼringan Jim uni yopib kirdi.
Àfti bir burda boʼlib qolgan, bezovta koʼrinar edi. Yigirma ikki yoshda oila tashvishini ortmoqlab yurish oson emas. U allaqachon paltosini yangilashi kerak, qoʼlqopi boʼlmagani uchun qoʼllari sovqotar edi.
Jim xuddi bedananing hidini sezgan setterdek eshik oldida qimir etmay turib qoldi. Koʼzlari Dellaga shunday ifoda bilan tikilib turardiki, ayol buni nimaga yoʼyishini bilolmay, vahimaga tushdi. Bu ifoda na qahr, na hayrat, na taʼna, na dahshat — taxmin qilish mumkin boʼlgan hislardan birontasiga ham oʼxshamas edi. Eri unga nigohini uzmay tikilib turar, yuzidagi gʼalati ifoda hech oʼzgarmas edi.
Della stoldan sakrab tushib, unga otildi.
— Jim, jonim,— deya qichqirib yubordi u.— Menga unday qarama! Men sochimni qirqib, uni pulga sotdim, melod bayramida senga hech narsa sovgʼa qilmasam, bunga hech bir chidayolmasdim. Sochlarim yana oʼsib ketadi. Mendan achchigʼlanayotganing yoʼqdir-a, shundaymi? Bundan boshqa ilojim yoʼq edi. Sochim juda tez oʼsadi. Kel, meni melod bayrami bilan tabrikla, Jim, kel, bayramning gashtini suraylik. Senga shunday bir sovgʼa tayyorlab qoʼydimki, shunday ajoyib, shunday alomat sovgʼa tayyorlab qoʼydimki!
— Sen sochingni qirqtirdingmi?— deb soʼradi Jim diqqatini toʼplagancha, zotan miyasi qizgʼin ishlab turgan boʼlsada, bu narsa hali hushiga yetib bormayotgandek edi.
— Ha, qirqtirdim ham, sotdim ham,— dedi Della.— Àmmo sen meni bari bir sevasanku? Sochim qisqa boʼlgani bilan men bari bir oʼsha-oʼshamanku.
Jim garangsib xonani koʼzdan kechirdi.
— Xoʼsh, shunday qilib, endi sening soching yoʼqmi? — deb soʼradi oʼrinsiz qatʼiyat bilan.
— Qidirmay qoʼyaqol, bari bir topolmaysan,— dedi Della.— Àxir senga aytdimku: men sochimni sotdim — qirqtirdimda, sotdim. Bugun arafa, Jim. Menga mehribonroq muomala qil, chunki men sen uchun shunday qildim. Ehtimolki, boshimdagi sochlarni sanab chiqish mumkin boʼlaru,— deb soʼzida davom qilarkan, muloyim ovozi birdan jiddiy yangray boshladi,— ammo hech kim, hech kim mening seni nechogʼli sevishimni oʼlchab bitirolmasa kerak! Kotletlarni qovuraveraymi, Jim?
Shunda Jim karaxtlik ogʼushidan chiqdi. U Dellasini bagʼriga bosdi. Àndisha qilaylikda, bir necha lahza alahsib, biron oʼzga narsani tomosha qilish bilan band boʼlaylik. Qaysi biri koʼp — haftasiga sakkiz dollarmi yo yiliga bir millionmi? Matematik yoki donishmand sizga notoʼgʼri javob bergan boʼlardi. Àfsungarlar bebaho tuhfalar keltirishgan, ular ichida bir tuhfa yoʼq edi. Nafsilamr, bu dudmal shamani keyinroq tushuntirib beramiz.
Jim paltosining choʼntagidan turgaklangan narsa olib, stolga tashladi.
— Gapimga astoydil ishonaver, Dell,— dedi u.— Hech qanday kuzalgan, taralgan soch qizaloqqinamdan mening mehrimni sovutolmaydi. Àmmo mana bu turgakni ochib koʼrgin, dastlab kirib kelganimda nima uchun gangib qolganimni bilasan.
Oppoqqina epchil barmoqlar kanopni tortqilab, qogʼozni ochdi. Darhol shavqli xitob yangrab, hayhot, shu ondayoq ayol ahliga xos shashqator yosh bilan oh-faryod boshlanib ketdiki, xonadon boshligʼi oʼsha zahoti ixtiyorida mavjud boʼlgan barcha taskin beruvchi vositalarni tatbiq etishga majbur boʼldi.
Negaki, stol ustida Della Brodveydagi vitrinada koʼrganida mahliyo boʼlib qolgan, ikkita chakkaga, bitta orqaga toʼgʼnaladigan oʼsha bir toʼp taroq yotardi. Chetlariga jilodor toshlar naqsh etilgan, kashtanrang sochlarining tusiga juda mos, toshbaqa poʼstidan qilingan chinakam, ajoyib taroqlar edi. Ular juda qimmat, Della buni bilar, ularni orzu qilgani bilan muyassar boʼlmasligiga koʼzi yetganidan allaqachondan buyon yuragi orziqib, achishib yurar edi. Mana endi, nihoyat ular qoʼliga kelib tegdiyu, ammo bularning orziqtirgan jilosi koʼrk baxsh etishi mumkin boʼlgan goʼzal sochlar allaqachon barham topgan edi.
Har qalay, u taroqlarni koʼksiga bosdi, nihoyat, jurʼat qilib boshini koʼtararkan, yoshli koʼzlari bilan jilmaygancha shunday dedi:
— Mening sochim juda tez oʼsadi, Jim!
Shu payt u ustidan dogʼ suv quyib yuborilgan mushuk boladek sapchib turdida, xitob qildi:
— Voy, oʼlmasam!
Àxir Jim uning ajoyib sovgʼasini hali koʼrmagan edida. U oshiqqancha zanjirni kaftiga olib Jimga uzatdi. Xira tusli nodir metall uning samimiy va joʼshqin quvonchi shuʼlalarida tovlanib ketgandek boʼldi.
— Havasingni keltirmaydimi, Jim? Men uni topgunimcha, shaharda bormagan joyim qolmadi. Endi soatingni kuniga yuz marta olib qarashing mumkin. Soatingni menga berchi. Ikkalovi birga turganda qanday koʼrinishini koʼrgim kelayotibdi.
Àmmo Jim uning soʼzlariga itoat qilish oʼrniga, chorpoyaga choʼzildida, qoʼllarini boshi ostiga qoʼyib, jilmaydi.
— Dell, — dedi u,— hozircha ikkovimiz ham sovgʼalarimizni yashirib qoʼya turishimizga toʼgʼri kelarkan, bir oz yotatursin. Ular hozir biz uchun juda ham serdabdaba ekan. Men senga taroq sotib olish uchun soatimni sotdim. Endi, kotletlaringni pishiraversang ham boʼlar, deb oʼylayman.
Maʼlumki, oxurda yotgan goʼdakka tuhfa olib kelgan afsungarlar donishmand, tang qolarli darajada donishmand kimsalar ekanlar. Melod kunlarida sovgʼa taqdim etishni ham oʼshalar taomilga kiritgan ekanlar. Oʼzlari donishmand boʼlganlari uchun beradigan tuhfalari ham, ehtimolki, maʼqul kelmay qolgan taqdirda ayirboshlab berish pisanda qilib qoʼyilgan donishmandvor tuhfa boʼlsa ajab emas. Men bu yerda sizlarga oʼzlarining eng bebaho boyliklarini bir-birlariga aql-donishiga mutlaqo zid boʼlgan yoʼsinda fido etgan, sakkiz dollarli kvartirada ijara turadigan ikki tentak bolaning sarguzashtini soʼzlab berdim. Àmmo zamonamizdagi donishmandlarga oʼgit tariqasida aytib qoʼyishim kerakki, barcha tuhfa beruvchilardan eng donishmandi shular edi. Barcha tuhfa baxsh etuvchi va oluvchilar orasida mana shularga oʼxshaganlari chinakam donishmandlardir. Hamma yerda, har qachon. Àfsungarlar ham ana oʼshalar.
|
One dollar and eighty-seven cents. That was all. And sixty cents of it was in pennies. Pennies saved one and two at a time by bulldozing the grocer and the vegetable man and the butcher until one's cheeks burned with the silent imputation of parsimony that such close dealing implied.
Three times Della counted it. One dollar and eighty-seven cents. And the next day would be Christmas.
There was clearly nothing to do but flop down on the shabby little couch and howl. So Della did it. Which instigates the moral reflection that life is made up of sobs, sniffles, and smiles, with sniffles predominating.
While the mistress of the home is gradually subsiding from the first stage to the second, take a look at the home.
A furnished flat at $8 per week. It did not exactly beggar description, but it certainly had that word on the lookout for the mendicancy squad.
In the vestibule below was a letter-box into which no letter would go, and an electric button from which no mortal finger could coax a ring. Also appertaining thereunto was a card bearing the name "Mr. James Dillingham Young."
The "Dillingham" had been flung to the breeze during a former period of prosperity when its possessor was being paid $30 per week. Now, when the income was shrunk to $20, though, they were thinking seriously of contracting to a modest and unassuming D. But whenever Mr. James Dillingham Young came home and reached his flat above he was called "Jim" and greatly hugged by Mrs. James Dillingham Young, already introduced to you as Della. Which is all very good.
Della finished her cry and attended to her cheeks with the powder rag. She stood by the window and looked out dully at a gray cat walking a gray fence in a gray backyard.
Tomorrow would be Christmas Day, and she had only $1.87 with which to buy Jim a present. She had been saving every penny she could for months, with this result. Twenty dollars a week doesn't go far. Expenses had been greater than she had calculated. They always are. Only $1.87 to buy a present for Jim. Her Jim. Many a happy hour she had spent planning for something nice for him. Something fine and rare and sterling—something just a little bit near to being worthy of the honor of being owned by Jim.
There was a pier-glass between the windows of the room.
observing his reflection in a rapid sequence of longitudinal strips, obtain a fairly accurate conception of his looks. Della, being slender, had mastered the art.
Suddenly she whirled from the window and stood before the glass. her eyes were shining brilliantly, but her face had lost its color within twenty seconds. Rapidly she pulled down her hair and let it fall to its full length.
Now, there were two possessions of the James Dillingham Youngs in which they both took a mighty pride. One was Jim's gold watch that had been his father's and his grandfather's.
The other was Della's hair. Had the queen of Sheba lived in the flat across the airshaft, Della would have let her hair hang out the window some day to dry just to depreciate Her Majesty's jewels and gifts. Had King Solomon been the janitor, with all his treasures piled up in the basement, Jim would have pulled out his watch every time he passed, just to see him pluck at his beard from envy.
So now Della's beautiful hair fell about her rippling and shining like a cascade of brown waters. It reached below her knee and made itself almost a garment for her. And then she did it up again nervously and quickly. Once she faltered for a minute and stood still while a tear or two splashed on the worn red carpet.
On went her old brown jacket; on went her old brown hat. With a whirl of skirts and with the brilliant sparkle still in her eyes, she fluttered out the door and down the stairs to the street.
Where she stopped the sign read: "Mne. Sofronie. Hair Goods of All Kinds." One flight up Della ran, and collected herself, panting. Madame, large, too white, chilly, hardly looked the "Sofronie."
"Will you buy my hair?" asked Della.
"I buy hair," said Madame. "Take yer hat off and let's have a sight at the looks of it."
Down rippled the brown cascade.
"Twenty dollars," said Madame, lifting the mass with a practised hand.
"Give it to me quick," said Della.
Oh, and the next two hours tripped by on rosy wings.
Forget the hashed metaphor. She was ransacking the stores for Jim's present.
She found it at last. It surely had been made for Jim and no one else. There was no other like it in any of the stores, and she had turned all of them inside out. It was a platinum fob chain simple and chaste in design, properly proclaiming its value by substance alone and not by meretricious ornamentation—as all good things should do. It was even worthy of The Watch. As soon as she saw it she knew that it must be Jim's. It was like him. Quietness and value—the description applied to both. Twenty-one dollars they took from her for it, and she hurried home with the 87 cents. With that chain on his watch Jim might be properly anxious about the time in any company. Grand as the watch was, he sometimes looked at it on the sly on account of the old leather strap that he used in place of a chain.
When Della reached home her intoxication gave way a little to prudence and reason. She got out her curling irons and lighted the gas and went to work repairing the ravages made by generosity added to love. Which is always a tremendous task, dear friends—a mammoth task.
Within forty minutes her head was covered with tiny, close-lying curls that made her look wonderfully like a truant schoolboy. She looked at her reflection in the mirror long, carefully, and critically.
"If Jim doesn't kill me," she said to herself, "before he takes a second look at me, he'll say I look like a Coney Island chorus girl. But what could I do—oh! what could I do with a dollar and eighty-seven cents?"
At 7 o'clock the coffee was made and the frying-pan was on the back of the stove hot and ready to cook the chops.
Jim was never late. Della doubled the fob chain in her hand and sat on the corner of the table near the door that he always entered. Then she heard his step on the stair away down on the first flight, and she turned white for just a moment. She had a habit for saying little silent prayer about the simplest everyday things, and now she whispered: "Please God, make him think I am still pretty."
The door opened and Jim stepped in and closed it. He looked thin and very serious. Poor fellow, he was only twenty-two—and to be burdened with a family! He needed a new overcoat and he was without gloves.
Jim stopped inside the door, as immovable as a setter at the scent of quail. His eyes were fixed upon Della, and there was an expression in them that she could not read, and it terrified her. It was not anger, nor surprise, nor disapproval, nor horror, nor any of the sentiments that she had been prepared for. He simply stared at her fixedly with that peculiar expression on his face.
Della wriggled off the table and went for him.
"Jim, darling," she cried, "don't look at me that way.
I had my hair cut off and sold because I couldn't have lived through Christmas without giving you a present. It'll grow out again—you won't mind, will you? I just had to do it. My hair grows awfully fast. Say `Merry Christmas!' Jim, and let's be happy. You don't know what a nice—what a beautiful, nice gift I've got for you."
"You've cut off your hair?" asked Jim, laboriously, as if he had not arrived at that patent fact yet even after the hardest mental labor.
"Cut it off and sold it," said Della. "Don't you like me just as well, anyhow? I'm me without my hair, ain't I?"
Jim looked about the room curiously.
"You say your hair is gone?" he said, with an air almost of idiocy.
"You needn't look for it," said Della. "It's sold, I tell you—sold and gone, too. It's Christmas Eve, boy. Be good to me, for it went for you. Maybe the hairs of my head were numbered,” she went on with sudden serious sweetness, “but nobody could ever count my love for you. Shall I put the chops on, Jim?"
Out of his trance Jim seemed quickly to wake. He enfolded his Della. For ten seconds let us regard with discreet scrutiny some inconsequential object in the other direction. Eight dollars a week or a million a year—what is the difference? A mathematician or a wit would give you the wrong answer. The magi brought valuable gifts, but that was not among them. This dark assertion will be illuminated later on.
Jim drew a package from his overcoat pocket and threw it upon the table.
"Don't make any mistake, Dell," he said, "about me. I don't think there's anything in the way of a haircut or a shave or a shampoo that could make me like my girl any less.
But if you'll unwrap that package you may see why you had me going a while at first."
White fingers and nimble tore at the string and paper.
And then an ecstatic scream of joy; and then, alas! a quick feminine change to hysterical tears and wails, necessitating the immediate employment of all the comforting powers of the lord of the flat.
For there lay The Combs—the set of combs, side and back, that Della had worshipped long in a Broadway window.
Beautiful combs, pure tortoise shell, with jewelled rims—just the shade to wear in the beautiful vanished hair.
They were expensive combs, she knew, and her heart had simply craved and yearned over them without the least hope of possession. And now, they were hers, but the tresses that should have adorned the coveted adornments were gone.
But she hugged them to her bosom, and at length she was able to look up with dim eyes and a smile and say: "My hair grows so fast, Jim!"
And them Della leaped up like a little singed cat and cried, "Oh, oh!"
Jim had not yet seen his beautiful present. She held it out to him eagerly upon her open palm. The dull precious metal seemed to flash with a reflection of her bright and ardent spirit.
"Isn't it a dandy, Jim? I hunted all over town to find it. You'll have to look at the time a hundred times a day now. Give me your watch. I want to see how it looks on it."
Instead of obeying, Jim tumbled down on the couch and put his hands under the back of his head and smiled.
"Dell," said he, "let's put our Christmas presents away and keep 'em a while. They're too nice to use just at present. I sold the watch to get the money to buy your combs. And now suppose you put the chops on."
The magi, as you know, were wise men—wonderfully wise men—who brought gifts to the Babe in the manger. They invented the art of giving Christmas presents. Being wise, their gifts were no doubt wise ones, possibly bearing the privilege of exchange in case of duplication. And here I have lamely related to you the uneventful chronicle of two foolish children in a flat who most unwisely sacrificed for each other the greatest treasures of their house. But in a last word to the wise of these days let it be said that of all who give gifts these two were the wisest. O all who give and receive gifts, such as they are wisest. Everywhere they are wisest. They are the magi.
|