"I'm going to hand him my last full quart of old Scotch," he announced with a gesture of broad generosity. "He'll appreciate that, or I miss my guess."
He had the comforting feeling of having made a self-sacrifice for the sake of a stranger. He had the redeemed feeling of one who means to go the absolute limit on behalf of his fellow man. For Mr. Bugbee had brought with him but three bottles of his treasured pre-Prohibition Scotch. And the first bottle was emptied and the second had been broached and half emptied and only the third precious survivor remained intact.
It was a lovely yet a poignant feeling to have.
On the night before Christmas it was raining. By morning probably the underfooting would be all one nice icy slickery glare but now everything was melting and running. As the Bugbees, man and wife, slopped along up the gentle slope leading from the highway to their front door they were exchanging remarks which had been uttered several times already on the homeward journey but each, with variations, was still repeating his, or as the case was, her contributions to the dialogue, just as persons will do when a subject for conversation happens to be one that lies close to the speakers' heart.
"The little ones," she was saying, "they almost repaid me for all the trouble we've been to and all the pains we've taken. Their glee was genuine. Sometimes, Clem, I think there ought to be a law against anybody celebrating Christmas who's more than twelve years old--I mean celebrating it with gifts."
"Second the motion!" His tone was grim. One might even say it was bitter.
"But some of these older ones--turning up their noses right before our eyes at the little presents that we'd bought for them. What did they expect--diamond bracelets? Do they think we're made out of money?"
"Well, I'm not, for one. I settled Brother Talbot's account for the past two weeks this afternoon. That man's talents are wasted here. He ought to be operating a fleet of pirate ships."
"There was one thing that I haven't had the courage to tell you about yet." She blurted the rest in a gulped staccato: "With me it was absolutely the last straw. And I'm ashamed of myself. But my heart was so set on the singing! That's my only excuse for being so weak."