"And we thought," Simeon finished, "that if the factory wasn't going to
open up this Winter, we'd work things so's to have little or no
Christmas in town this year--being so much of the present giving falls
on us to carry on our books."

"It ain't only the factory wages, of course," Abel interposed, "it's the
folks's savings being et up in--"

"--the failure," he would have added, but skipped a mere beat instead.

"--and we want to try to give 'em a chance to pay us up for last
Christmas before they come on to themselves with another celebration,"
he added reasonably.

Ebenezer Rule laughed--a descending scale of laughter that seemed to
have no organs wherewith to function in the open, and so never got
beyond the gutturals.

"How you going to fix it?" he inquired again.

"Why," said Simeon, "everybody in town's talking that they ain't going
to give anybody anything for Christmas. Some means it and some don't.
Some'll do it and some'll back out. But the churches has decided to omit
Christmas exercises altogether this year. Some thought to have speaking
pieces, but everybody concluded if they had exercises without oranges
and candy the children'd go home disappointed, so they've left the whole
thing slide--"

"It don't seem just right for 'em not to celebrate the birth of our Lord
just because they can't afford the candy," Abel Ames observed mildly,
but Simeon hurried on:--

"--slide, and my idea and Abel's is to get the town meeting to vote a
petition to the same effect asking the town not to try to do anything
with their Christmas this year. We heard the factory wasn't going to
open, and we thought if we could tell 'em that for sure, it would settle
it--and save him and me and all the rest of 'em. Would--would you be
willing for us to tell the town meeting that? It's to-night--we're on
the way there."

"Sure," said Ebenezer Rule, "tell 'em. And you might point out to 'em,"
he added, with his spasm of gutturals, "that failures is often salutary
measures. Public benefactions. Fixes folks so's they can't spend their
money fool."

He walked with them across the lawn, going between them and guiding them
among the empty aster beds.

"They think I et up their savings in the failure," he went on, "when all
I done is to bring 'em face to face with the fact that for years they've
been overspending themselves. It takes Christmas to show that up. This
whole Christmas business is about wore out, anyhow. Ain't it?"