Part 27 (1/2)
Four dozen eggs in a pudding necessitates an all-night boiling, and because of this we offered to share ”watches” with Cheon, but were routed in a body. ”We were better in bed,” he said. What would happen to his dinner if any one's appet.i.te failed for want of rest? There were too few of us as it was, and, besides, he would have to stay up all night in any case, for the mince pies were yet to be made, in addition to brownie and another plum-pudding for the ”boys,” to say nothing of the hop-beer, which if made too soon would turn with the thunder and if made too late would not ”jump up” in time. He did not add that he would have trusted no mortal with the care of the fires that night.
He did add, however, that it would be as well to dispatch the Vealer over night, and that an early move (about fowl-sing-out) would not be amiss; and, always obedient to Cheon's will, we all turned in, in good time, and becoming drowsy, dreamed of ”watching” great mobs of Vealers, with each Vealer endowed with a plum-pudding for a head.
CHAPTER XXIII
At earliest dawn we were awakened by wild, despairing shrieks, and were instinctively groping for our revolvers when we remembered the fatted fowls and Cheon's lonely vigil, and turning out, dressed hastily, realising that Christmas had come, and the pullets had sung their last ”sing-out.”
When we appeared the stars were still dimly s.h.i.+ning, but Cheon's face was as luminous as a full moon, as, greeting each and all of us with a ”Melly Clisymus,” he suggested a task for each and all. Some could see about taking the Vealer down from the gallows; six lubras were ”rounded up” for the plucking of the pullets, while the rest of us were sent out, through wet gra.s.s and thicket, into the cold, grey dawn, to gather in ”big, big mob bough and mistletoe,” for the beautifying of all things.
How we worked! With Cheon at the helm, every one was of necessity enthusiastic. The Vealer was quartered in double-quick time, and the first fitful rays of sunlight found their way to the Creek crossing to light up an advancing forest of boughs and mistletoe clumps that moved forward on nimble black legs.
In a gleaming, rustling procession the forest of green boughs advanced, all crimson-flecked with mistletoe and sunlight, and prostrated itself around us in mighty heaps at the head of the homestead thoroughfare.
Then the nimble black legs becoming miraculously endowed with nimble black bodies and arms, soon the gleaming boughs were piled high upon the iron roof of the Eastern verandah to keep our impromptu dining-hall cool and fresh. High above the roof rose the greenery, and over the edge of the verandah, throughout its length, hung a deep fringe of green, reaching right down to the ground at the posts; everywhere among the boughs trailed long strands of bright red mistletoe, while within the leafy bower itself hanging four feet deep from the centre of the high roof one dense elongated ma.s.s of mistletoe swayed gently in the breeze, its heaped-up scarlet blossoms cl.u.s.tering about it like a swarm of glorious bees.
Cheon interrupted the decorations with a call to ”Bressfa.s.s! Duck cully and lice,” he sang boldly, and then followed in a doubtful, hesitating quaver: ”I--think--sausage. Must have sausage for Clisymus bress-fa.s.s,”
he said emphatically, as he ushered us to seats, and we agreed with our usual ”Of course!” But we found fried b.a.l.l.s of minced collops, which Cheon hastened to explain would have been sausages if only he had had skins to pack them into.
”Him close up sausage!” he a.s.sured us, but that anxious quaver was back in his voice, and to banish all clouds from his loyal old heart, we ate heartily of the collops, declaring they were sausages in all BUT skins.
Skins, we persuaded him, were merely appendages to sausages, barriers, in fact, between men and delectable feasts; and satisfied that we were satisfied, he became all beams once more, and called our attention to the curried duck.
The duck discussed, he hinted that dinner was the be all and end all of ”Clisymus,” and, taking the hint, we sent the preparations merrily forward.
Every chair and stool on the run was mustered; two tables were placed end to end beneath that cl.u.s.tering, mistletoe and covered with clean white tablecloths--remembering the story of the rags and hobble rings we refrained from serviettes--the hop-beer was set in canvas water bags to keep it cool; and Cheon pointing out that the approach from the kitchens was not all that could be desired, an enormous tent-fly was stretched away from the roof of the verandah, extending it half-way to the kitchen, and further greenery was used, decorating it within and without to make it a fitting pa.s.sage-way for the transport of Cheon's triumphs. Then Cheon's kitchen decorations were renewed and added to; and after that further suggestions suggested and attended to. Everything that could be done was done, and by eight o'clock all was ready for Cheon's triumphs, all but our appet.i.tes and time of day.
By nine o'clock Mac and Tam had arrived, and after everything had been sufficiently admired, we trooped in a body to the kitchen, obedient to a call from Cheon.
Triumph after triumph was displayed, and after listening gravely and graciously to our a.s.surances that already everything was ”more better'n Pine Creek last year,” Cheon allowed us a glimpse of the pudding through a cloud of steam, the company standing reverently around the fire trench in a circle, as it bent over the bubbling boiler; then scuttling away before us like an old hen with a following of chickens, he led the way to the waterbags, and asked our opinion on the hop-beer: ”You think him jump-up longa dinner time? Eh, boss ?” he said anxiously, as the Maluka, holding a bottle between us and the light, examined it critically. ”Me make him three o'clock longa night-time.”
It looked remarkably still and tranquil, but we hoped for the best, and half an hour later were back at the waterbags, called thither to decide whether certain little globules were sediment or air-bubbles. Being sanguine, we decided in favour of bubbles, and in another half-hour were called back again to the bags to see that the bubbles were bubbles indeed, having dropped in at the kitchens on our way to give an opinion on veal stuffing and bread sauce; and within another half-hour were peering into the oven to inspect further triumphs of cooking.
Altogether the morning pa.s.sed quickly and merrily, any time Cheon left us being spent in making our personal appearance worthy of the feast.
Scissors and hand-gla.s.ses were borrowed, and hair cut, and chins shaved, until we feared our Christmas guests would look like convicts. Then the Dandy producing blacking brushes, boots that had never seen blacking before, shone like ebony. After that a mighty was.h.i.+ng of hands took place, to remove the blacking stain; and then the Quarters settled down to a general ”t.i.tivation,” Tam ”cleaning his nails for Christmas,” amid great applause.
By eleven o'clock the Dandy was immaculate, the guests satisfied that they ”weren't too dusty,” while the Maluka, in spotless white relieved with a silk c.u.mmerbund and tie, bid fair to outdo the Dandy. Even the Quiet Stockman had succeeded in making a soft white s.h.i.+rt ”look as though it had been ironed once.” And then every lubra being radiant with soap, new dresses, and ribbons, the missus, determined not be to outdone in the matter of Christmas finery, burrowed into trunks and boxes, and appeared in cream was.h.i.+ng silk, lace fichu, ribbons, rings, and frivolities--finery, by the way, packed down south for that ”commodious station home.”
Cheon was enraptured with the appearance of his company, and worked, and slaved, and chuckled in the kitchen as only Cheon could, until at last the critical moment had arrived. Dinner was ready, but an unforeseen difficulty had presented itself. How was it to be announced, Cheon queried, having called the missus to the kitchen for a hasty consultation, for was it wise to puff up the Quarters with a chanted summons?
A compromise being decided on as the only possible course, after the booming teamster's bell had summoned the Quarters, Cheon, all in white himself, bustled across to the verandah to call the gentry to the dinner by word of mouth:--”Dinner! Boss! Missus!” he sang--careful to specify his gentry, for not even reflected glory was to be shed over the Quarters. Then, moving in and out among the greenery as he put finis.h.i.+ng touches to the table here and there, he glided into the wonders of his Christmas menu: ”Soo-oup! Chuckie! Ha-am! Roooast Veal-er!” he chanted.
”Cauli-flower! Pee-es! Bee-ens! Toe-ma-toes!” (with a regretful ”tinned”
in parenthesis)--”Shweet Poo-tay-toes! Bread Sau-ce!” On and on through mince pies, sweets, cakes, and fruits, went the monotonous chant, the Maluka and the missus standing gravely at attention, until a triumphant paeon of ”Plum-m-m Poo-dinn!” soared upwards as Cheon waddled off through the decorated verandah extension for his soup tureen.
But a sudden, unaccountable shyness had come over the Quarters, and as Cheon trundled away, a hurried argument reached our ears of ”Go on! You go first!” ”No, you. Here! none of that”; and then, after a short subdued scuffle, the Dandy, looking slightly dishevelled, came through the doorway with just the suspicion of a.s.sistance from within; and the ice being thus broken the rest of the company came forward in a body and slipped into whichever seat came handiest.
As all of us, with the exception of the Dandy, were Scotch, four of us being Macs, the Maluka chose our Christmas grace from Bobby Burns; and quietly and reverently our Scotch hearts listened to those homely words: