"One--two--three--fo'--yes, plenty of them, but we are goin' to begin with the top one. This is yours, Nancy--this little white one on the vehy tip-top. Gentlemen, this top candle is always reserved for Miss Caarter," and the lighted taper kindled it into a blaze. "Just like yo' eyes, my dear, burnin' steadily and warmin' everybody," and he tapped her hand caressingly with his fingers. "And now, where is that darlin' little Katy's--she must have a white one, too--here it is. Oh, what a brave little candle! Not a bit of sputterin' or smoke. See, dearie, what a beautiful blaze! May all your life be as bright and happy. And here is Mr. Klutchem's right alongside of Katy's--a fine red one. There he goes, steady and clear and strong. And Fitz--dear old Fitz. Let's see what kind of a candle Fitz should have. Do you know, Fitz, if I had my way, I'd light the whole tree for you. One candle is absurd for Fitz! There, Fitz, it's off--another red one! All you millionaires must have red candles! And the Major! Ah, the Major!"--and he held out his hand to me--"Let's see--yaller? No, that will never do for you, Major. Pink? That's better. There now, see how fine you look and how evenly you burn--just like yo' love, my dear boy, that never fails me."
The circle of the table was now complete; each guest had a candle alight, and each owner was studying the several wicks as if the future could be read in their blaze: Aunt Nancy with a certain seriousness. To her the custom was not new; the memories of her life were interwoven with many just such top candles,--one I knew of myself, that went out long, long ago, and has never been rekindled since.
The Colonel stopped, and for a moment we thought he was about to take his seat, although some wicks were still unlighted--his own among them.
Instantly a chorus of voices went up: "You have forgotten your own, Colonel--let me light this one for you," etc., etc. Even little Katy had noticed the omission, and was pulling at my sleeve to call attention to the fact: the Colonel's candle was the only one she really cared for.
"One minute--" cried the Colonel. "Time enough; the absent ones fust"--and he stooped down and peered among the branches--"yes,--that's just the very one. This candle, Mr. Klutchem, is for our old Mammy Henny, who is at Caarter Hall, carin' for my property, and who must be pretty lonely to-day--ah, there you go, Mammy!--blazin' away like one o' yo' own fires!"