HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Clinton News-Record, 1910-12-22, Page 3*ecember '22nd 1910
PlAYING SANTA CLAUS.:
A Tragedy of • a London fog in the :Suburbs of
Streathton===lut It ' Ended Well,
By C. Malcolm Hlncks, in the
Novel Magazine
Police -Constable Parker stood at the
.corner formed by the aristocratic
thoroughfare known as Acacia Grove
and the much less dignified street
known as Church Roard,. in the Lon-
don suburb which, for the purpose of
this story; shall be known as Streath-
ton.
It was Christmas Eve, but the wea-
ther certainly did not tend to inspire
one with a feeling of peace on earth
and goodwill towards mankind. The
crossing -sweeper, who was furtively
4tyeing the constable, had been sworn
at and rewarded in the ratio of three
to one.
"When it's snowy," he confided to a
butcher's boy, who had stopped to re=
light the stump of a cigar he had
found in the gutter "people thinks s it's
real Christmas and nd does .yet well, but
this bloomin' fog upsets 'em. Would
you unbutton yer •top coat to give a
chap like me a penny a night like
this?" •
"No, I bloomin' well shouldn't!" de-
clared the butcher's boy with decision
as he moved off.
P. -C. Parker stamen:his feet on
the damp pavement and wished him-
self anywhere but where he was. This
was his first experience of a London-
fog,
ondonfog, for he had been in the Metropoli-
tan Force only a few months, and he
did not like it.
, see "Bloomin' 'ole to be in on Christ-
mas Eve!" he growled. "Only. six
o'clock and yet' 'ardly 'a sign of Iife'
about the place. , Why :couldn't they
let me do a beat in the 'Igh Street?
There is somethin' goin' on there at
all events, even if you can't see .'it
,proper for the fog." •
As he had collie on duty he had
marched along the High 'Street,where
the light from the shop windows, the
naphtha flares on the eosters' stalls,
the branches of holly and evergreen,
the gaily=dressed grocers' windows,
and the rapidly -moving, and for the
most part, happy -faced, crowd, did
convey something of that peculiar, in-
describable feeling that people asso-
eiate with Christmas.
"Give me Mugford!" growled the
constable, as he turned and slowly be-
gan to pace his beat. "Don't believe
in all the talk about London streets
paved with gold; I've only seen 'em
full o' slosh. Law! At Mugford we
knew it was Christmas, festivities we'
'ad, and—beg pardon, sir!"
An old gentleman had almost col-
lided with him, for the fog was gradu-
ally becoming thicker, and the lamp-
posts in Acacia Grave were few and:
far between.
Ah, constable," said the old gentle-
man genially, "can you• direct me to a
house in the road of the name West-
dene?"
""Westdene, sir?" suggested P. -C...
Parker thoughtfully. He had been in
the force long enough to know that it
paid to be civil to benevolent -looking
old gentlemen on Christmas Eve.
"Yes, that's the name. Absurd idea,
constable, giving •a, fancy name to a
house in a road like this. In my
youeg days a number sainted, and
postmen were much happier,"
"No one 'as a number in Acacia•
Grove," said Parker; "they've all got
names, rum 'ons, too, `some of 'etit.
It's difficult to see names properly in
this 'em fog, and as I'm walking along
that way maybe you'd like me to show
you the 'ouse? "
"That is very good of you; you see
I am er—acting as Santa Claus."
P. -C. Parker glanced at the large
bag in the old gentleman's hand, noted
the kindly smile, and felt sad.
1ff' "Kids of to -day don't believe in that
sort o' thing, sir; they looks at each
tning to see if there's a label with
the price on it."
"You are a very cynical young
man," observed the old gentleman, as
with difficulty he kept beside him.
"Been six months in the Force,"
said P. -C. Parker shortly.
The old gentleman nodded as
Clinton New*
roar spoof; everything!'' he is irmure
"I wish People would •- Confound it
Someone's coining! Where can
hide?Oh
inChis hurry, �Mr. e. zIrittenden to
got the two bags he had placed on th
floor, and as he made a dive to ge
beneath the table his, foot caught i
one of thorn and he came to the Boo
,ith a crash that seemed to shake th
`house.
"What's the matter?" cried a. eta
tied voice.
d, pity. "hut the hictlra o!`circunnstancea
and. my own foolishness. lily name Is
r.
Brittenden, James Brittenden and I
entered the house thinking It belong-
ed to my son."
o "But why enter by a back door and
t bolt?" demanded the tall man, with
n a perplexed look upon his face.
✓ To an ever-increasing circles of epee-
;*• tators Mr. Brittenden told his etory;
it cast him a lot to confess the hash he
had made of things, but it was better
than :being hauled off to prison while
inquiries were made.
"But Mr. Brittenden lives at West-
dene. This house is. Oal:dene," said
the man who proved. to be the tenant
it of the hove the old gentleman had so
h uneerenlcn:cus y ert:red.
A woman in evening dress who was
gatiu„ clown at the group from til,:
, other side of the wall spates up ex -
g cit+ diy:
'i saw Mrs. Brittenden this morn
1 in, Jack," she cried; "and she told
Char
me that her hrsband's father was..
coming upfrom the country to spend,
d Christmas with them."
e "There appears to have been a,mis•
el hake. I must have showed 'int the
g wrong 'ouse in the fog," said the con-
stable sadly, feeling that he had been
robbed of the credit of a smart care
Ore.
The tall man laughed,
t "Look here, constable,' we had het -
ter go back to my place and talk the
thing over, I don't think your ser-
- vices will .he required, but no doubt
you could do.with something to take
the taste of the fog out of your
Mouth."
The gardener. received a couple of
shillings and was told to go to the
kitchen for a drink, the excited group
of neighbors went back to cheery
And before Mr. Brittenden could re-
ply a servant's face had peered round
the door and then disappeared.
"Delp! Thieves! Delp!" +
Mr. Brittenden picked himself u
and began to make remarks of whic
no self-respecting Santa Claus would
have dreamt.
, "Confound that girl!" he remarked
stopping in the middle of a strlkin
'speech on the subject of bags, bruise
shins, and grazed elbows, "She'l
spoil—bless my soul, that's not Cha
lie's voice!"
The sudden exclamation was cause
by hearing a gruff command to th
screaming girl to fetch the pollee, an
then the sound of footsteps comm
towards the door.
Then it dawned upon Mr. Brittenden
that he was in the wrong bowie, and
at the moment the fact dawned upon
him the worthy old gentleman los
his head. The idea of stoppipg and
explaining his position never occurred
to him. He dedided at once that un
less he could escape he would spend
his Christmas in jail.
But how to escape?
Of course, the door. He must leave
the bags and he must also leave his
hat, for it bad rolled somewhere under
the table, and be dared not stop to
, search for it. With an agility tha
' few would have given him credit for
possessing, he sprang to the door that
he had carefully closed behind him,
opened it, fell rather than ran clown
the steps, and found himself walking
, on grass, but enveloped in such a fog
that he could scarcely see the house
he had left in so abrupt a fashion,
The fog got, into his throat and lie
coughed.: Immediately a woman's
voice rang. out from somewhere close
at hand:
"Quick, quick, he's• in the garden!
1 heard him. Oh, quick, policeman, or
weshall be murdered,"
though such an experience were an
excuse for anything, and then they
walked on in silence for a few yards..
"I want to make this one of the old-
fashioned, fairy Christmases for my
grandchildren, constable," he said at
length, "and-er—realiy Pm glad I've;
met you, you see, I'm going to do a,
little amateur burgling," •
"Oh; are you?" said P, -C. Parker
shortly, stopping in his walk and re-
garding his companion 'severely. •
The old gentleman laughed. '
•
"I thought you'd think it funny," he'
said. "You see, I'm Mr. James Brit-
tenden, and I'm going to stay with my
son -Charles for Christmas; they don't:
expect me until ten o'clock to -night,
but I caught an earlier train than I
expected from the country, and as I'
came along Holborn. it .struck me that,
I would give the youngsters a great'
surprise. I'm going to get in through:
thenursery 'window, leave the toys'
I've brought, go and dine somewhere,;
and then return to the house and tell'
ter@
mtha
t under r th
table ie in
the r-:
sernu
r-• they wilt •find a lot of i
Santa Claus has left." . things that
"'Ow do youknow you're goin' to.
get in ;so easy?" demanded' the con-
stable, still regarding the elderly gen-:
=tleman with some suspigion , '
"Oh, .I shall manage all right. 'Y'ou,
see, I want to startlemay. son and his''
wife as well: as the children: I' was'
always fond of a' joke—ha,. ha, ha'!'
What! Ia this the house? Thank you.
Good -night, officer! Merry Christ -
matt! Drink my health to -morrow,
will you?""• • .
"Good -night,: sir, , thank you, sir
same to you!" gasPed P. -C. Parker,
gazing blankly at the coin" which the,
street lamp just above him disclosed,
to be a half -a -sovereign..
"Lor,'," the. muttehed, as he resumed
his beat,: fancy avin'•' any suspicions
against a generous gentleman like.
that. Id .like to be.. one o' them kids:
an'—'alf-a-tick, I don't believe there''
are any kids at that house: I've never
seen 'em, anyway, Now, I wonder if
the old buffer is up to any little game. -
I'll go and see what --curse the ' fog,
it's coming on worse than ever!"
He turned and walked back towards,
the gate of the house where he had.
left the amiable amateur' Santa Claus:
The old .gentleman's story. about the
children was probably a blind—he
had thought 'to. 'throw 'him off the
scent. Then the half -sovereign was:
bribery . and corruption, Probably it
was` bad; he tested it with his teeth;
no, it 'Wasn't bad; but all the
"Help! Police! Thieves!" •
A diothevel:ed servant girl had run
to the gate of Westdene and her pierce
ing cry came weirdly through the hogs
P, -C, Parker broke into a run.
* * *.. * * , * • * -
"Bless my soul! They've altered
the
h rroom, Now ,how on ' earth am• I
find the nursery,
Mr. James Brittenden deposited his
bags on the floor and gazed round in'
blank ,bewilderment. On his last visit
he remembered the nursery had been:
the room 'on the first. floor . that ' was
approached by a flight' of iron steps.
from the back garden.. Several of the,
residents in Acacia Grove ., who pos'
sessed the same ai'rangQment• used it
as a morning room, and sat out on the.
little balcony at night, but his sone
had turned it .into a nursery, Mr.'
Brittenden had expected to have had,
to climb through the window overs
looking the • balcony, but had -found'
the door unlocked, and so saved him-
self trouble, •
"If I go : out into the hall I may
meet a servant or someone and that
Certainly there was something ap-
' preaching murder in Mr. Brittenden's
heart as, • on hastily turning to move
away, be had collided with a tree and
scraped about a couple of square
inches of skin off his face.
A form looming .up behind him
caused him to forget his injury, and.
he made a wild dash in the opposite
direction to the house. He could just
see a wall, and to that wall he ran;
once over it he would be able to get
away unless the absurd row the peo-
'plc in the house were making roused
the whole neighborhood.
• He gained the wall, took a flying
leap, and 'sat •down.more or less grace-
fullyupon a piece of broken glass
embedded in•. mortar, evidently the re-
' mains of what at one time had been
a harsh measure. to stop the healthful
promenade of the local cats.
Mr. Brittenden felt for, the felines
ofthe past
decade Str at
hto
n as he
sat upon thewall; he mentioned it
among the many other things in- the
speech that he addressed to 'no one in
particular as he hastily altered his
• position. • •'
see him, sir!"
The unfortunate gentleriztn I'ecog-
'ntzed.the voice as that of the cousta-
• ble to -whom' he 'had .spoken; -and the
very last • man inthe world that .n
wanted• to see at the present moment.
• He tried •to pierce the fog- and,, see
how deep the drop . vas on the other
gide of the wail .and what, sort of land-
ing it was, but the damp, yellow -black
mist made this impossible.
The gleam of the- policeman's lan-
tern Ioomed hip through• the fog close
to him. Behind the officer were other
shadowy forms; there was, thesound
of. several windows being thrown up,
and many voices demeanding what
was the matter, • • '
Fear of the, policeman , overcoming
the fear of :the unknoun,'Mr;'Britten
den set his teeth, drew. in This breath;'
and slid down from the wall into dark-
ness,
Hse-landed ungracefully" but unhurt
on a pile of rubbish after alit est 'a
six-foot fall, and lay. theregasping tot.
breath and cursing himself for being
a fool, Never• again, he • told himself,
would he .undertake the onerous and
dangerous duties of Santa CIaus. •
•.r . r fool!"
Chet"e s _o ,00I like an old
he. Muttered, ball aloud. •
"You're right, old bird," said',a voice
above him, and a large foot Was
placed heavily upon his woolen -waist-
coat -and at the same time a cry of
'Tye ; got gm!" floated out on the'
evening air,•
• '
"That's the gardener at IIilleroft!"
he heard someone say, and then came
the constable's loud, hoarse voice:
"Hold him tight; he's a burglar!"
"Pretty :ancient for that game, ain't,
you?" said the gardener, getting a
grip on Mr. •Brittendene collar.
"Come, stumble' up, old 'un you'll be
'appier on yer feet,"
Mr. Brittenden could not associate
that word 'with his position, whether
he stood on his feet -or lay on the.
ground,but he did not • want the gar-
dener to use him' as a door-metagain,
so he obeyed the invitation- to ."stunt.
bee up," and• had. scarcely done so be-
fore the constable scrambled over the
wall 'and the light of a bull's-eye was
flasheden his face. .
"The chap I thought!" he dried tee
emphantly. "The cove that guffed me
about ' Santa Claus! You'll get Santa
Claus, „you 'oary-'eaded old sinner;
Christmas in quod--that',r what you'll
ge„
Tt!he threat and the reaction 'after all
the excitement seemed to restore the
unfortunate old gehtleman to his
senses,
"I'm not a' burglar," he began, "I
am—"
"Oh, no, it don't look like it, do it?"
.interrupted the policematt sarcastical-
ly, "You jest steppedin to see the
lime, didn't you, and thought the clock
was under the ?"
A tall, c'ark-tablehaired, goad-tiumored-
looking man ttenped up and peered
into the prisoner's' face. , • •
"By gad, lie's a ram looking bur.
glarI" he ejaculated, "Drunk per-
Imps,
erI:aps, but not—"
"I am ntiti'-,r a brei ar nor'ani I
drunk," said the piisoi.cr, with dig•
-��9Uh11Jr1,Vf8��iiih�a�hl�l1�V�� ,y�.
.,
r.
51 I
t .II
7
fires, sill the little procession passed
out at the side gate and wended their A ,tory of a Christmas Morning and a Bob who
way back to Oakdene.
Interfered with Santa's Plans.
ecoid
►uugge �
at " elll�il�ll�aul'
SANTA CLAUS' MISTAKE.
"I'li show you the way round to
your son's glace " said the tall man
after many hpalths had been drunk, I
and Mr. Brittenden had begun to for-
get his recent troubles in the spirit of
good fellowship and merriment of the
season.
The old gentleman lit the cigar his '
host had given him,
"How about my two bags?" he ask-
ed, %I ought to—"
"Pel seed someone round with them
later," said the other, unless, of
course, you want to do the Santa.
Claris business again, .in which case
we—"
"Not for weeds!" said Mr, Britten -
don has+ilv,
*. * * * * *
Time col: ;table stood at the end of 1
MA beat. 'ii re were, two half -sever -
1 :s in his „ ice!:,%•''
QU ' !. E R NEVER
GETS ANYWHERE
, By Herbert .Kaufman,
Every Man who ever did anything
really' great did it by himself. Suc
ces can't
s be'gained ga nod � v
ithout confi-
dence. rr Halfh '
t e fibre 'of achieve-
ment is egotism. .It•his the force that
carries the struggler to the goal. He
must' believe in his ability ---he must
possess so much tenacity and courage
that others become- infected with his.
assurance. When he meets witli'dis-'
belief and 'discouragement„ his own
faith. has to support and sustain'him. !
Andsuch' faith is only •to 'be arrived at
by training, jul t as the athlete's stride
1iI the result Of months .of effort, 'and'
the ha;mmertlxrower's torm is the•:out-
come. of 'untiring 'practice.
.Self-confidence is a moral, muscle,
'Which requires development.: it' is no
different •from `any other, thew -and. sin-
eiv-'-it can only grow strong through
use. . If you never" try, no 'one will
ever try for you, If you. don't Make
a start no one will give you the- ini-
petes. , The world is seIftshe-every .
individual is endeavoring to the best
of ;his night'•to utilize- his knowledge'
and experience, and advantages tohis
-own profit. • • •
Onlythe ainbiti.ous achieve, and am-
bition,
mbition, without initiative, .is, ha useless-
possession. It has as much value as
a gun without ammunition.-
. Big things are hard to get, .other-
wise they , would have no value.
Ground - fruit .:-is easier to pick than
that on the. tree but if it were sound
, it wouldn't, lie so low. What is not
difficult to secure can, be just as readir. .
ly gotten by everybody else. The lit-
tle posts are always hardest to hold.
because they require so little ability
to maintain and the competition
among men who can fill them is many
times more Intense than the striving
higher up.' •
Contentment is rust -men who are
satisfied with what they have done
soon cease to be of value to them- ,
selves and to others. Every twenty-
four -hours produces a. change in the I
ways of doing things, and the self -
complacent man, content with • his
knowledge and his opportunity, soon
becomesa back number --he stands
still while thingsaremoving forward.
Don't be , afraid of risking . your.
present position if you possess
enough ability to 'hold it, you can hold
another: An • the other hand, if you
are not that capable, sooner' or later.
some one better qualified to do what•
you are doing will get your place.
"He 'who is afraid to venture his
bait will never fish"—if you. believe
that, you possess the power to do bet-
ter things than yon are doing—If you
think that you are gifted with ea-
parity tolfulfil greater responsibilities,
you will 'stay where 'you 'are until the
end, -if you - don't make the effort ,to
climb to where you rightfully,, belong;
Suppose you do- undergo'a setback
or two on •the way to greater prosper.
ity, if you're not willing to stand a
stumble, you haven't grit and courage
enough to hold on to things after you
got them,
Eyc•ry man who ever shinned ii f a
tree had to slip down the trunk, time
and time again until he caught on• to
the branches and pulled himself up.
Every new swimmer keeps sinking un-
til ho finds how to use his arms and
legs In, water, A quitter never gets
anything,
It was very early Christmas morn-'
lag; it would have been quite dar,s in
the, bedroom if it had not been for
the bright street light outside the
window. •
Side by side against the wall ' stood
two white beds,. In one slept Charlie
Kennedy, aged five; in the 'other,
Donald Kennedy, aged seven, lay
awake. '
From the foot of each bed hung a
stocking.
"It looks like night out ofi, doors,"
thought Donald. . "But I • b'lieve it is
really morning, and if it is morping• I
shall just have one peep into my
stocking to, e what Santa Claus has
brought me."se
Donald slipped a bare pink foot .cau-
tiously out of bed, then the other fol-
lowed,- and in his blue and white
striped pyjamas he crept to the well-
filled stocking and 'emptied the con-
tents oil the quilt.
In . the dim light he could see
bail, a
knife, a Chinese puzzle, ,an
orange, and a box of sweets, also a
clockwork motor boat. •
He put the things carefully, back,
then looked longingly at his brother's
stocking. „a,' '. •
"I'll just peep at Charlie's That
Will beano harm." he thought. •• ••
Charlie had much the same 'as Don-,
aid, only in place -at the; clockwork
,motor boat; there 'was a:cannon,° Don•:
-aid handled it lovingly. -
"Santa' Claus ought to have known
that L mean to be a soldier. -He should
have given me this cannon,", be mut-
tered, "Charlie is to be a sailor, so
the ..motor boat `would«be just the
thing for him,. Santa -Claus lies made
a mistake—that's whathe has done."
Donald put back Charlie's presents
and crept. into his warm bed. ' But he
coilid not sleets he kept thinking of
thecannon and ' the . motor boat.
"I, am sure Santa Claus has' made a
muddle about its. • 'I shall . set things
right." • . .
And so : saying, Donald got cut of
bed once more, and put Charlie's can-
non do his own stocking,• and gave his
brother themotor boat. •
Having done this, Donald once more
got into bed, and this . ante he soon
went to sleep.•
:
II
a
.It was Christmas Day and : break-
fast -time, Around the breakfast table
in . the -dining-room, decorated with
evergreens, sat Mr, and 'Mrs. Kennedy,
Donald and Charlie, ' and their sisters
Doris and Rose, whilst Uncle Bob was
placed between Donald and Charlie to
see that they :'behaved themselves," as
he laughingly remarked.
As they were all chattering, :Ellen,
the parlormaid, entered with a tray.
On the tray was a letter.
"I wonder who it is from?" remark -
lel Mrs. Kennedy. "I tine sure the post
has never arrived as early. as this on
Christ .has Da.y."
""It !s addressed, to Master 'Donald
anct .Master Charlie, and I`found, it in
the drawing -room grate; ma'am, ' It
looked just as if it 'had fallen down
the chimney," said Ellen,
"What a peculiar place for a: letter!
Do let me see who it's from,. Shall I.
read it omit to you, boys?" asked his
mother,
"Yes, please, mummy. I expect it
!s from Santa Claus. • I dare say he
dropped it down the. imney in pass-
ing," said Donald,
Mother and father smiled at this
suggestioin, whilst ,'Uncle Bob. grinned,
broadly,•
"Why, it is from'
Santa :Claus, as
you said," remarked . Mrs.. Kennedy,
looking very surprised. He .writes;
•
"Dear Donald and •Charlie,•• ---A line
,n great haste to say that I have just
found I have made a mistake about
the things I put in your stockings last
night. I did not know before which
sf you had settled to be the sailor and
which the soldier, or I should have
given the presents differently. Now I
know, and, to make up, please look
in the porch, and the box of soldiers
Vau will find there is for the bo
Ywho
had the motor beat, and• the box of
f h I
to or or th btl c w ort;a
Miss . Florence. Thomas, a popular: :he cannon: T hopetidewill please
Parry Sound girl, was found dtowned
rod both. i should have tett the Bol-
in the rivet*.
1
diers and tailors in your bedroom,
but it is nearly light as I write this,
and I am of a nervous disposition, and
should- not like you to see me, as Ii
,am so shy.
"Your loving friend, •
• "Santa CIaus."
"How thoughtful of Santa Claus tel
write!" said Mrs. Kennedy. "l sup-;
pose Donald has the motor boat, sol
will get the box of soldiers; . and!
theCharlie has the. cannon, so will have,
sailors," '
"No; I have got the.motor boat,"
said :Charlie.. "And. Donald has 'the
cannon," -
Donald did not say anything, but he
looked very, very Solemn.
"Oh, why did , I change my motor,
boat for the cannon?" lie thought. •
He looked even more serious still
when the parcels in the porch were
opened, for the box• of soldiers was the
most splendid one be had ever -seen.,
There were rows and rows of horse
and foot soldiers, with shining swords.
'and brightly -painted coats. The sail-
ors were very nice, butnothing came'
up to :soldiers in Donald's eyes. '
"I think there has. been some iris -
tai s
@ „ said
Uncle n le
noticing Bob,, cA
g th @
piteous expression on hisnephe'w's'
face, "I had a private talk with,'Santa'
Claus,. and told him particularly that,
you 'were to -be the gallant soldier.of,
the Kennedy family, and ,Charlie' the
sailor boy. There has- been a 'mistake
somewhere,; •I am sure:'
As the • .ours of . Christmas, Day
,went by the, Kennedy children, with
happy, contented faces, played with
their new toys—all but Donald, and he'
looked more and more solemn,
. III.
it was Christmas night; Donald and
Charlie were .in 'bed„ CharIie•' was,
asleep, 'but Donald lay Make- Pre-
sently manly footsteps• passed the
half -open door. .
"Uncle, uncle--is'that you?' Called
Donald.',
Yes; wlhy aren't you asleep, young
manI ca'"'
'"n't sleep; I ant worried,' uncle.
Please sit on •my bed, quite close to
Me. I nant.to confide in yen!'
Uncle Bob' smiled in_ thea dark,
"Spates .on," he said, .
' "Uncle, you seem- to know more
about Santa.•Claus than the rest of us;.
you are" friends with him, aren't yoit?'•»
"Yes; Santa Claus' and I make little
plans together sometimes. What is
the matter?" • . •
• "Well, it is like this.. I thought that
Sant
aC1a
Claes had made
a mistake when
I saw. the motor boat in my stocking
and the • cannon: in. Charlie's, so•
thought I'd mit the they
right.. it•
Ihad Ieft them as they were, I should
have had the soldiers; and I do want •
them." -
"T thought something odd'had hap-
pened," said Uncle Bob.' "Another'
time you must. leave Santa Claus. tO
rectify his,. own mistakes. I am sorry
about the soldiers. but you must. be
content with the bailors," •
"I am awake," came from the other.
bed: "Donald can• have the soldiers.
I'd teeny rather have' the sailors, but
I did not like to say so," said Charlie..
So Donald had the soldiers and
pleased,, the .sailors, and everyone was
, '
•
And Donald has Made up his. mind
,not to Interfere with • S'anta Claus''
plans another 'Christmas. �•
If
The'llows-Atopra,pleases fou recom-
mend it to your friends'
L
Wauld
STAPLETON SALT
WORKS
Nghest prices paid*
Custom: work solicited.
�Xw1AR
FOR THE CHRISTMAS TRADE
WE HAVE PLACED IN STOCK
A LIMITi':D qt. ANTITY OIC`
tiA,'i'TY BUT SERVICEABLE
NE:C'KIVI.AR.
HERE -YOU, CAN DEPEND Of
GETTING FRESH ,VP -TO -DATE
GOODS 3-t'ST WHEN' YOU WANT •
SOMETIIING NICE AND NOT • .
MUCH TO PAY.
W. BANE AND no
FLOUR
THE BEST BRANDS .MADE IN
CANADA,
OATMEAL., , WHEAT ..GERMS
- BEANS,
FEED, , FLOUR, BRAN, SHORTS
CHOPPED FEED. •
ALL Ir;INDS OF GRAIN FOR FOWL,
c•
:SAL"(' I' BARRELS AND BAGS.
THE L. SUITTE R CO.
ive POut?3
WANTED --
The following. prices are being paid"
at the Ilolmesvilpe .Poultry Yards:— •
Hens 8c per lb. live:.
Chickeue Se to lIe per lb live.
Turkeys • 18c, .per , ib.
Ducks 13" per lb dressed;
Geese ° ilc per, lb dressed.
:New !:.aid, eggs; net oven 7 r . days
'old.; 35e per dos, -••
Poultry • to be delivered, with•
cropsempty on Monday, Tucsday°and
Wednesday morning ;of each week.
'Buying all the year round.
Phone 4 on 34.2. , ,
N. W Trewartha..
�HOLMESVIL.Lid ..
Your
r
P t�
ori a e
Solicited
HAVING PURCIIASED ' THE
BLACKSMITRING BUSINESS OF
MR. JAMES FLYNN.. WE WOULD
RESPECTFULLY SOLICIT . THE
PATRONAGE OP' THE ' TOWN . OF
CLINTON AND VICINITY.
We make a specialty of
Shoeing. Lame and Inter-
faring Horses and. - guar.
antee satisfaction in that
line,
J
-
CARRIAGE MAKING A -ND
REPAIRING OF ALL KINDS
PROMPTLY ATTENDED: TO.
GIVE 'L'S A CALL,•
CHARGES MODERATE,
411***115.1101.41*
SAUNDERS.
BEACON & SMYTH
•
HAVING never&('(' TIHFI 6100 -
ERN AND CHIINA BUSINESS
OP B. A: McEW1*i, WE ARE IN
A POSITION TO' ClIVE GOOD
VALVES. ' WE PURPOSE CAR-
EYING
'AR-EiING ALL THE LINES I{"dP'i:`
IIIIRT FOEIVERLY, THANK-,
ING THOSE WHO FAVORED
VS 1•L"ITh! TUFIIII, rrATitolimat.,
'IN THE PAST, \Inc MAX FOR A
CONTINUANCE, AND WILL AS.
SURE': ALL WI1b TRADE WITH •
I'S TIIA'l' THEY WILL RE-
CEIVE 0111 BEST VALVES b
AND ALL THE ATTENTION
POSSIIII,I'3 T"OR I':S TO GIVE.
BEACOM 86 SMYTH"