Speaker 1: A matter of system by Eleanor H. Porter at the
office of Hawkins and Hawkins. System was everything. Even the
trotter boy was reduced to an orbit that ignored craps
and marbles, and the stenographer went about her work like
a well oiled bit of machinery. It is not strange, then,
that Jasper Hawkins, senior member of the firm, was particularly
incensed at the confusion that Christmas always brought to his home.
For years he bore with such patience as he could
muster the attack of nervous prostration that regularly on the
twenty sixth day of December laid his wife upon a
bed of invalidism. Then, in the face of the unmistakable
evidence that the malady would this year precede the holy
day of peace and goodwill, he burst his bonds of
self control and spoke his mind. It was upon the
morning of the twenty first Edith he began, in what
his young daughter called his now mind voice. This thing
has got to stop. What thing Christmas? Jasper? It was
as if she thought he had the power to sweep
goodwill itself from the earth. Christmas stop, Yes, my dear,
how did you spend yesterday I was shopping exactly, and
the day before, and the day before that, and before that.
You needn't answer, for I know, and you were shopping for,
he paused, expectantly, presents. Something quite outside herself had forced
the answer exactly now, Edith, Surely it need not take
all your time for a month before Christmas to buy
a few poultry presents, and all of it for two
months afterwards to get over buying them. But Jasper, they
are few and are anything but poultry. Imagine giving Uncle
Harold a paltry present, retorted Edith, with some spirit. The
man waved an impatient hand. Very well, we will call
them magnificent, then, he conceded. But even in that case,
surely the countless stores full of beautiful and useful articles,
and with a list properly tabulated, and a sufficiency of money.
An expressive gesture finished his sentence. The woman shook her head.
I know it sounds easy, she sighed, but it isn't.
It's so hard to think up what to give. And
after I've thought it up and bought it, I'm just
sure I ought to have got the other thing. But
you should have some system about it. Oh, I had
a list, she replied dispiritedly. But I'm so tired. Jasper
Hawkins suddenly squared his shoulders. How many names have you
left now to buy presents for? He demanded briskly. Three.
Aunt Harriet and Jimmy and Uncle Harold. They always get
left to the last. They're so impossible, impossible, nonsense, And
I'll prove it to you too. Give yourself no further
concern Edith about Christmas. If that is all there is
left to do, just consider it done. Do you mean
you will get the presents for them? Most certainly? But Jasper,
you know, an imperative gesture silenced her. My dear, I'm
doing this to relieve you, and that means that you
are not even to think of it again. Very well, Ah,
thank you, sighed the woman, But her eyes were troubled.
Not so Jasper's. His eyes quite sparkled with anticipation. As
he left the house. Some minutes later, on the way
down town, he made his plans and arranged his list.
He wished it were long. That list. Three names were
hardly sufficient to demonstrate his theories and to display his ability.
As for Aunt Harriet, Jimmy and Uncle Harold being impossible,
that was all nonsense, as he had said, And before
his eyes rose a vision of the three. Aunt Harriet,
a middle aged spinster, poor, half sick and chronically discontented
with the world, Jimmy, a white faced lad who was
always reading a book, and Uncle Harold, red faced, red headed,
and red tempered. Jasper smiled all to himself at this
last thought, red tempered. That was good, he would tell Edith,
but he would not tell others. Witticisms at the expense
of a rich, old bachelor uncle, whose air was a
matter of his own choosing, were best kept pretty much
to one's self. Edith was right, However, in one thing,
Jasper decided, Uncle Harold surely could not be given a
paltry present. He must be given something fine, expensive and desirable,
something that one would like one's self. And immediately there
popped into Jasper's mind the thought of a certain exquisitely
carved meershorn, which he had seen in a window, and
which he had greatly coveted. As for Aunt Harriet and Jimmy,
their case was too simple for even a second thought.
To one. He would give a pair of bed slippers
to the other a book. Some minutes later, Jasper Hawkins
tucked into his pocket book an oblong bit of paper
on which had been neatly written presents to be bought
for Christmas nineteen o eight. Aunt Harriet Spinster fifty eight
years old, bed slippers, Uncle Harold Bachelor, sixty five years old,
pipe Jimmy Boy, twelve years old. Book. In the office
of Hawkins and Hawkins that morning, the senior member of
the firm found a man waiting for him. This man
was the emissary of his mighty chief, And upon this
chief rested the whole structure of a deal which was
just then looming large on the horizon of Hawkins and Hawkins,
and in which the oblong bit of paper in Jasper's
pocket book had no part. Missus Jasper Hawkins greeted her
husband with palpitating interest that evening. Well what did you get,
she asked? The man of business lifted his chin triumphantly.
Not everything we asked for, to be sure, he began.
But we got more than we expected, and he stopped abruptly.
The expression on his wife's face had suddenly reminded him that,
by no possible chance could she know what he was
talking about. Uh, what do you mean? He demanded, why, Jasper,
there's only one thing I could mean, the presence, you know.
A curious something clutched at Jasper's breath and held it
for a moment, suspended. Then Jasper throttled for something and
raised his chin even and higher. Time enough for that tomorrow,
he retorted lightly. I didn't promise to get to them
to day, you know, But Jasper, tomorrow's the twenty second,
and three whole days before Christmas. Yes, but they must
be sent the twenty fourth, and they'll be sent, my dear,
declared Jasper, in a tone of voice that was a
cold dismissal of the subject. On the morning of the
twenty second, Jasper Hawkins told himself that he would not
forget the presents this time. He decided, however, that there
was no need for him to take the whole day
to select a pipe, a book, and a pair of slippers.
There would be quite time enough after luncheon, and he
smiled to himself in a superior way as he thought
of the dizzying rush and the early start that always
marked his wife's shopping excursions. He was still smiling happily
when he sallied forth at two o'clock that afternoon, leaving
wide at the office that he would return in an hour.
He decided to buy the mere shy first, and with
unhesitating steps, he sought the tobacco store in whose window
he had seen it. The pipe was gone, however, and
there really was no other in the place that just
suited him, though he spent fully half an hour trying
to find one. He decided then to look elsewhere. He
would try the department store in which he intended to
buy the book and the slippers. It was better, any way,
that he should do all his shopping under one roof.
It was more systematic. The great clock in the department
store tower had just struck three when Jasper stalked through
the swinging doors on the street floor. He had been delayed.
Window displays had allured him, and dawdling throngs of Christmas
shoppers had forced his feet into a snail's pace. He
drew now a sigh of relief. He had reached his destination.
He would make short work of his purchases, and with
a dignified stride, he turned toward the nearest counter. At once, However,
he found himself caught in a swirl of humanity that
swept him along like a useless chip and flung him
against a counter much further down the aisle. With what
dignity he could summon to his aid, he righted himself
and addressed the smiling girl behind it. I'm looking for pipes,
he announced severely. Perhaps you can tell me where they are.
She shook her head. Ask him, she suggested, with a
nod and a jerk of her thumb, and Jasper, looking
in the direction indicated, saw a frock coated man standing
like a rock where the streams of humanity broke and
surged to the right and to the left by some maneuvering.
Jasper managed in time to confront this man pipes. He
panted anxiously. He was reduced now to the single word
annexed second floor, elevated to your right, thanks, fervently, breathed
the senior member of the firm of Hawkins and Hawkins,
muttering as he turned away. Then they have got some
system in this infernal bedlam. The crisp directions had sounded simple,
but they proved to be anything but simple to follow.
Like a shuttlecock, Jasper was tossed from Clark to Clark,
until by the time he reached his destination, he was confused, breathless,
and cross. The pipes, however, were numerous and beautiful, and
the girl behind the counter was both pretty and attentive. Moreover,
pipes did not happen to be popular that day, and
the corner was a little paradise of quietness and rest.
The man drew a long breath of relief and bent
to his task. In his mind was the one thought uppermost.
He must select just such a pipe as he himself
would like. And for long minutes he pondered whether this,
that or another would best please him. So absorbed was he, indeed,
in this phase of the question, that he had made
his selection and taken out his money, when a sickening
truth came to him, Uncle Harold did not smoke. To
it seemed incredible that he had not thought of this before.
But not until he pictured his purchase in his uncle's
hand had he realized that the thing was not for
himself after all, but for a man who not only
did not smoke, but who abhored the habit in others.
With a muttered something that the righteously indignant pretty girl
could not hear, Jasper Hawkins thrust his money into his
pocket and rushed blindly away from the pipe counter. Long
minutes later in the street, he adjusted his tie, jerked
his coat into place, straightened his hat, and looked at
his watch. It was four o'clock and he must go
back to the office before starting for home. There was
still another whole day before him, he remembered, and after all,
it was a very simple matter to buy the book
and the slippers, and then look around a little for
something for Uncle Harold. In the morning he would doubtless
light upon the very thing. And with this comforting thought,
he dismissed the subject and went back to the office.
Missus Hawkkins did not question her husband that night about
what he had bought something in his face stayed the
words on her lips. Jasper Hawkins went early to the
office the next morning, but it was fully eleven o'clock
before he could begin his shopping. He told himself, however,
that there was quite time enough for the little he
had to do, and he stepped off very briskly in
the direction of the department store he had left the
night before. He had decided that he preferred this one
to the intricacies of a new one. Besides, he was
very sure that there would not now be so many
people in it. Just here, however, Jasper met with a disappointment.
Not only was every one there who had been there
the day before, but most of them had brought friends,
and in dismay, Jasper clung to the post near the
door while he tried to rally his courage for the plunge.
In the distance, the frock coated man was still the
rock where the stream foamed and broke, And after a
long wait and a longer struggle, Jasper stood once more
before for him, I want slippers, bed slippers for women,
he muttered. Fourth floor front elevator to your left, declaimed
the man, and Jasper quite glowed with awe at the
thought of a brain so stupendous that it could ticket
and tell each shelf and counter in that vast domain
of confusion. Jasper himself had been swept to the right
on the crest for a particularly aggressive wave formed by
the determined shoulders of a huge, fat woman who wished
to go in that direction. So it was some time
before he could stem the current and make an effort
to reach the elevator on the other side of the store.
It was then that he suddenly decided to grasp this
opportunity for looking about a little to find something for
Uncle Harold. And it was then that he was lost,
for no longer had he compass captain or a port
in view. But awless and rudderless he drifted. Then, indeed
did the department store, in all its allurements of glitter
and show and competing attractions, burst on Jasper's eyes, benumbing
his senses and overthrowing his judgment. For long minutes he
hung entranced above a tray of jeweled side combs, and
for other long minutes he critically weighed the charms of
a spangled fan against those of one that was merely painted,
before he suddenly awoke to the realization that he was
looking for something for Uncle Harold, and that Uncle Harold
did not wear side combs nor disport himself with Gore's fans.
Where do you keep things from men? He demanded, then
aggrievedly of the demure faced girl behind the counter. And
it was while he was on the ensuing frantic search
for things for men that he stumbled upon the book department.
To be sure, a book for Jimmy, he muttered, and
confidently approached a girl who was already trying to wait
on three customers at once. I want a book for
a boy, he observed, and was surprised that no one answered.
I want a book for a boy, urged in a
louder tone. Still no one answered, I want a book
four a boy, he reiterated distinctly, and this time the
girl flicked her ear as at the singing of an
annoying insect. Juveniles three aisles over to your left, she
snapped glibly, and after a puzzled pondering on her words,
Jasper concluded that they were meant for him. In the
juvenile department, Jasper wondered why everyone in the store had
chosen that particular minute to come there and buy a
book for a child. Everywhere were haste and confusion. Nowhere
was there any one who paid the least attention to himself.
At his right, a pretty girl chatted fluently of this, that,
and another series. And at his left, a severe faced
woman with glasses discoursed on the great responsibility of selecting
reading for the young, and uttered fearsome prophecies of the
dire evil that were sure to result from indiscriminate buying.
Her words were not meant for Jasper's ears, but they
reached them. Nevertheless, the man shuddered and grew pale. With
soft steps, he slunk out of the book department. To
think that he, he who knew nothing whatever about books
for boys, had nearly bought one of the risky things
for Jimmy, And to Jasper's perverted imagination, it almost seemed
that Jimmy, white faced and sad eyed, had already gone
wrong and through him. Jasper looked at his watch then
and decided it was time for luncheon. After that he
could look around for something else for Jimmy. It was
six o'clock when Jasper, flushed, tired and anxious, looked at
his watch again and took account of stock. He had
a string of beads and a pair of skates. The skates,
of course, were for Jimmy. He was pleased with those.
It was a girl who had helped him in that decision,
a very obliging girl who had found him in the
toy department, confus usually eyeing an array of flaxen haired dolls,
and who had gently asked him the age of the
boy for whom he desired a present. He thought of
that girl now with gratitude. The string of beads did
not so well please him. He was a little doubtful anyway,
how he happened to buy them. He had a dim
recollection that they looked wonderfully pretty, with the light bringing
out sparkles of green and gold, and that the girl
who tendered them did not happen to have anything to
do but wait on him. So he had bought them.
They were handsome beads and not at all sheep. They
would do for someone, he assured himself, And not until
he had dropped them in his pocket did it occur
to him that he was buying presents for only a boy,
a bachelor, and a middle aged spinster. Manifestly, a string
of beads would not do for Jimmy or Uncle Harold.
So they must do for Aunt Harriet. He had meant
to buy bed slippers for her, but perhaps after all
she would prefer beads at all events. He had bought
them and they would have to go. And with that
he dismissed the beads. As yet he had nothing for
Uncle Harold. There seemed to be nothing, really that he
could make up his mind to give. The more he
searched the more undecided he grew. The affair of the
pipe had frightened him and had sown distrust in his heart.
He would have to buy something this evening, of course,
for it must be sent to morrow. He would telephone
Edith that he could not be home for dinner the
business detained him. Then he would eat a hasty luncheon
and buy Uncle Harold's present. And with this decision Jasper
wearily turned his steps toward telephone booth. Jasper Hawkins went
home at ten o'clock. He still had nothing for Uncle Harold.
The stores had closed before he could find anything, but
there was yet until noon the next day. Missus Hawkins
did not question her husband in the morning. She only
reminded him timidly. You know those things must get off
by twelve o'clock, Jasper. Oh, yes, they'll go all right,
her husband had replied, in a particularly cheery voice. Jasper
was not cheery, however. Within he was nervous and anxious.
A terrible fear had clutched his heart. What if he
could not? But then he must find something, He enjoined himself,
and with that he started downtown at once. He did
not go to the office this time, but sought the stores. Immediately,
he found conditions now even worse than before. Everyone seemed
to have an uncle Harold, for whom was frenziedly being
sought the unattainable. If at nine o'clock Jasper had been nervous,
at ten he was terrified, and at eleven he was
nearly frantic. All power of decision seemed to have left him,
and he stumbled vaguely on and on, scarcely knowing what
he was doing. It was then that his eye fell
on a huge sign, aust the thing for Christmas. When
in doubt by me, there was a crowd before the sign,
but Jasper knew now how to use his elbows. Once
at his goal, he stared in amazement. Then the tension
snapped and he laughed Outright before him were half a
dozen cages of waltzing mice. For a long time, the
curious wells and antics of the odd little creatures, in
their black and white coats, held Jasper's gaze in a
fascinated stare. Then the man, obeying an impulse that he
scarcely understood himself, made his purchase, gave explicit directions where
and when it was to be sent, and left the
store then, and not until then did Jasper Hawkins fully
realize that to his Uncle Harold, the rich old man
who must be petted and pampered and never by any
chance offended, he had sent as a Christmas present a
cage of dancing mice. That night, Missus Hawkins fearlessly asked
her questions, and as fearlessly her husband answered them. He
had determined to assume a bold front, however grave might
be his own doubts and fears. He had resolved that
she should not know of them presents. Of course, they
went to day with our love, he answered gaily. And
what did you send the simplest things in the world.
A string of handsome beads to Aunt Harriet, a pair
of skates to Jimmy, and a cage of the funniest
little waltzing mice you ever saw to Uncle Harold. You see,
it all resolves itself down to a mere matter of system,
he went on, But at the real agony in his
wife's face, he stopped in dismay. Why Edith, Jasper, you
didn't you didn't send skates to Jimmy, but I did?
Why not? But Jasper, He's lame, Jasper fell back limply.
All the bravado fled from her face. Edith, how could I?
How could I forget a thing like that? He groaned,
and beads for Aunt Harriet. Why Jasper, I never saw
a bead on her neck. You know how poor she
is and how plain she dresses. I always give her
useful practical things. Jasper said nothing. He was still with
Jimmy and the skates. He wished he had bought a book,
a wicked book, if need be, anything would be better
than those skates and mice, mice for Uncle Harold, wept, Edith,
Why Jasper, how could you dirty little beasts that Uncle
Harold can only feed to his cat? And I had
heard so much from Uncle Harold. Oh, Jasper, Jasper, how
could you? I don't know, said Jasper dully, as he
got up to leave the room. To Jasper, it was
not a happy Christmas. There were those three letters of
thanks to come, and he did not want to read them.
As it chanced they all came the same day, the
twenty eighth. They were addressed to missus Hawkins, and naturally
she read them first. When Jasper came home that night,
they lay waiting for him on his desk. He saw them,
but he decided not to read them until after dinner.
He felt that he needed all the fortification he could obtain.
He hoped that his wife would not mention them, and
yet he was conscious for vague disappointment when as time
passed she did not mention them. Dinner over further delay
was impossible, and very slowly he picked up the letters.
He singled out Aunt Harriet's first. Dimly, he felt that
this might be a sort of preparation for the wrath
to follow. Dear niece and nephew. He read, and he
sat suddenly erect. However in the world did you guess
that it was? Beatsigh wanted more than anything else in
the world, and these are such handsome ones. Ever since
beads and chains have been worn so much, I have
longed for one all my own. But I have tried
to crush the feeling and hide it, for I feared
it might be silly, and me so old and faded
and out of date. But I know now that it isn't,
and that I needn't be ashamed of it any more,
for of course you and Jasper would never give me
anything silly. And thank you ever and ever so much.
With a slightly dazed expression, Jasper Hawkins laid down Aunt
Harriet's letter when he had finished it, and picked up
the one from Uncle Harold. As he did so, he
glanced at his wife, but she was sewing and did
not appear to be noticing him. Well, children, you have
done it this time, read Jasper with fearful eyes. The
little beasts came on Christmas morning, and never have I
Jasper turned the page and relaxed, suddenly stopped laughing. So
I believe, how in the world did you happen to
think of a present so original, so cute, and so
everlastingly entertaining the whole house? And I might say the
whole town is in a fever over them. And there
is already a constant stream of children past my window.
You see, I've got the little devils where they can
best be seen and appreciated. There was more, much more,
and all in the same strain. And again, as Jasper
laid the letter down, he glanced at his wife, only
to find a demure, downcast gaze. But one letter now remained,
and in spite of what had gone before, Jasper picked
this up with dread. Surely nothing nothing, could reconcile Jimmy
and those awful skates. He winced as he opened the
letter and saw that Jimmy's mother had written, poor Jimmy's mother,
how her heart must have ached. And then he stared
in unbelieving wonder at the words and read them over
and over, lest he had in some way misconstruing their meaning.
My dear sister and brother, Jimmy's mother had written, I
wish you could have seen Jimmy when your beautiful skates arrived.
He will write you himself and thank you. But I
know he can't half make you understand just what that
present means to him. So I am going to write
you myself and tell you what he said. Then maybe
you can realize a little what a great joy you
have brought into his life. And let me say right
here that I myself have been blind all these years.
I haven't understood. And what I want to know is,
how did you find it out what Jimmy wanted? How
did you know when I his own mother never guessed.
Why even when the skeates came on Christmas Day, I
was frightened and angry because you had been so thoughtless
as to send my poor lame boy skates. And then
I could hardly believe my own eyes and ears for Jimmy.
His face, one flame of joy, was waving a skate
in each hand. Mother, Mother, He was shouting, See, I've
got a boy present, a real boy present, just as
if I was like other boys. I've always had books
and puzzles and girl presents. Everybody's thought of them when
they thought of me. He cried, thumping the crutches at
his side. But this is a real present. Now I've
got something to show and to lend, something that is something.
And on and on he chattered with me, staring at
him as if I thought he was out of his head.
But he wasn't out of his head. He was happy,
happier than I've ever seen him since he was hurt.
And it still lasts. He shows those skates to everyone
and talks and talks about them, and has already made
plans to let his dearest friends try them. Best of all,
they have given him a new interest in life, and
he is actually better. The doctors say. At this rate,
he'll be using the skates himself some day. And now,
how can I thank you you who have done this thing,
who have been so wise beyond his mother. I can
only thank and thank you, and send you my dearest love,
your affectionate sister Bertha, the senior member of the firm
of Hawkins and Hawkins, folded the letter very hurriedly and
tucked it into its envelope. There was a mist in
his eyes, and a lump in his throat, too, most
uncalled for, unwelcome phenomena. With a determined effort, he cleared
his throat and began to speak. You see, Edith, He observed, pompously,
Your fears were quite groundless after all this Christmas shopping.
If reduced to a system, he paused. Suddenly, his wife
had stopped her sewing and was looking straight into his eyes.
End of a matter of system by Eleanor H. Porter