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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 bargaining
with 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 Delia 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 cry. So Delia did it. Which starts the moral reflection
that life is made up of sobs, sniffles, and smiles, with sniffles most
often. While the mistress of the home is gradually moving 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. Next
to it 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, the letters of "Dillingham" looked
blurred, as 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 Delia. Which is
all very good. Delia finished her cry and attended to her cheeks with the powder
puff. 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 honour of being owned by Jim. 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 Delia\'s hair. Had
the Queen of Sheba lived in the flat across the airshaft, Delia would have
let her hair hang out the window some day to dry just to belittle 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 Delia\'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: "Mme Sofronie. Hair Goods of All
Kinds." One flight up Delia ran, and collected herself, panting. Madame,
large, too white, chilly, hardly looked the "Sofronie." "Will you buy my hair?" asked Delia.
"I buy hair," said Madame. "Take your 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 Delia.
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 Delia reached home her excitement 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, closelying curls
that made her look wonderfully like a truant, schoolboys 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. Delia 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 of saying little silent prayers
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 Delia, 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. Delia 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 it 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, slowly, as if he had not arrived
at that obious fact yet even after the hardest mental labour. "Cut it off and sold it," said Delia. "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 far it," said Delia. "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 a sudden
serious sweetness, "but nobody could ever count my love for you. Shall I
put the chops on, Jim?" Out of the trance Jim seemed quickly to wake. He enfolded his
Delia. 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 confused 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
Delia had worshipped for 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 adornment 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 then Delia 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. Of all who give
and receive gifts, such as they are wisest. Everywhere they are wisest.
They are the magi.
Magi - волхвы
Bargaining - ведение переговоров, заключение сделки
Imputation - вменение в вину, обвинение
Parsimony - бережливость, расчет, расчетливость, экономия
Reflection - здесь: мысль, мнение, высказывание
Mistress - хозяйка (дома)
Beggar - неимущий, бедняк, нищий
Blurred ; = blurry - неясный, туманный; расплывчатый, смазанный
Puff - пуховка; мягкий круглый тампон (для нанесения пудры)
Dully - уныло, вяло, инертно
Possessions - собственность; имущество; пожитки
Janitor - вахтер, привратник, швейцар
Garment - одеяние, облачение, покров
To faltere - колебаться; действовать нерешительно
To ransack - искать; обыскивать, обшаривать; рыться в поисках
Fob chain - цепочка для карманных часов
Mammoth - здесь: гигантский, громадный
Truant - прогульщик; школьник, прогуливающий уроки
Frying-pan - сковорода с ручкой
Peculiar - специфический; своеобразный; необычный
To enfold - обнимать, обхватывать
Assertion - суждение
Nimble - проворный, ловкий, шустрый; легкий
Comb - гребень; расческа
To worship - поклоняться, боготворить, обожать
To obey - подчиняться, повиноваться, проявлять послушание
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