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OIIRISTMAJS
SEAFORTII, CIIIRISTMAS, 1892.
pihlisherS, hi
presenting their Christ
-
lairs Supplement to the
subscribers -of the, Ex-.
POSTFOR, desire to 'Wish
one and all a 'Merry
christmas and Happy
New Year.
McIAEIN ItneTuitts,
Christmas Eve.
In the snow the lights are gleaming,
From above the stars are beaming
Through the cold;
And the year sighs in the blowing,
And weeps softly in the snowing;
He is old.
Merry music now is speeding,
New advancing, now receding,
Through the air,
And a sound of Christmas pleasure
Fills each joyful, thoughtful measure—
. Half a prayer.
And the youth and brown -eyed maideli
,With their g:fts of gladness laden,.
Soft arid slow
Tell the wondrous, ancient story
Of the tirst great Christmas glory,
Long aeo !
For o'er mountain, mist and meadows,
Through the centuries' golddinea shadows,
Shines the Star !
Through the sighing and the sebbing
Comes the music's joyous thtobbing
from afar.
And the angels seem a -whispering,
'Mid the stars' pale, silvery glistening,
In the frost,
Of the goodwill and the glory
Coming down from dead years
Heavenly host 1
Is their wonder that all nations,
From their wide -set signal stations
All alorg
The 'great track of pain a.nd sadness,
Catch a glimpse of breaking gladness,
Raise their song,
On this night wheu vows were plighted
'Tiviect the heavers and earth, united
By one Love,
And the skiee, with joy o'erflowing,
Sent their & leer -toned heralds glowing,
Ft me ahove ,
Al around the earth doth hover,
And its steins lightly o'ercover,
The tair snow,
With its I -wiry -and beauty
(The frost -acme's' happy duty),
Even so
Let the good news of the morrow
Cover o'er the old-time sorrow
Near and far,,!
Let the clouds 1tntk into lightness !
Let our livesine with the brightness
Of 64 -Star !
Let the bels he set a -chiming,
As, the suterir e steeps up.elimbingt
Breaks the day!
For the Saviour of the sages
Is the Saviour of the ages.
And ai wey
hoary—
R. M. ALDSF.
Before I Knew Who. Santa Was.. i
Jes' little- bit afeller, -1 remember still,
Ust to almost cry ler Christmas, like a
youngster will. - . t -
Fourth o' .July's nothin' totit 1 New Year's
- - ain't, a- smell ;
Easter Sunday, circus dagajes' all dead in
the shell. . .
Lordy, though 1 at eight, you. know, to set,
atound and hear
The old folks work the story off about the
sledge and deer,
And Sexily skootin' round the roof, all w•rat -
- ped in tur and fuzz ;
Long afore
I know0 who
\ Smell Claus wuz 1
. ., .
. Uet to wait and set up late a week er two
ahead;
Couldn't hardly keep awake, nee wouldn't
go to bed. , , . ..
Kittle stewird on the fire, and mother sa-
tin' here
Darnin' socks and rockin' iti the skreeky
• roeki& cheer ; ,
Pap, -gap' and. wunder where it waz the
money Went,
And quitel with his frosted heels and spill
- h -is liniment :
And me a dreantied sleigh belle when the
cloult hid whir and. buzz,
. Long afar°
knowed who
Santy Claus wuz 1
Size the fireplace up and floor how Old
Sauey could
Manage to come down the chimblylike they
said he would t
Wight that 1 could lade and see him,wan-
dered what he'd saY
El he ketehed a felier ler -him that
away.
RuttI bet on him, and liked hint, same as ef
be had
Tamed to pat me on the back and say:
h, Look here, my lad,
Here's, my pack, jes' he'p yourself, like all I
good boys does !"
Long afore -
,1 knowed who .
Smart. CIEMS Wt17.
AVislit that yallA VMS true about titan as it
peered to be ;
Truth merle out o' lies like that un'e good
enough for me..
Wieht I still tvuz se confidin' I could Peg' go
.wild
Over hanging' up my stook ins like the little
child
Cambia' in my lap to -night and begging me
'Beat tIdeTh eindeers, mut Old Santy that
she loves so well,
I'M half sorry fer this little girl sweetheart
of his.
Long afore,
She knows who
Santa Claus if.
,--(James Whitcomb Riley.
" ( F 1 ,
he tone was so hard, so flinty, that the
widow made no further effort, but pressing
her hands on her breast, turned silently
away,. and rejoined the children, who were
huddled near the door. She took the mall.
est by the hand, and was leading her Away,
when the little thing suddenly drew back
and exclaimed, -
"1 fordot somefin'."
Therewas no time to stop her, and she
had run to the old man's side before' they
ie
could even call her back. elven her °Widish
confidence was shaken, and she spok but
timidly, as she drew a little woolly lamb
frore under her cloak and laid it oh his
hounced as he murmured : , knee.
" Here they are on time arid in high' "1 buyed it for you," elle said, gently.
spirits 1 Of course they'd be on time and in, He started up as if a serpent had Stung
him, and angrily thrust the baby way,
crying hoarsely: " Off, you brat 1 Begone,
alt you 1" .
The little woolly lamb fell at his feet, and
the frighteeed child staggered, and itvould
have fallen too had not tne mother's arms
caught her up and passionately hugged her
close to her.
CHRISTMAS AT THORNDIKE
The gray dthik of Christrn te "
keen wind Which . had been rollicking so 1 contemptuous words. ,It was little wonder
Eve, and the I
brthely,through the bustling streets of t ild- unloved, that lie had learned to repel C011 -
as unlovely as he was
that he had grown ux
jolly Oka there turned dismal, the instaet, tempt with a sneer, and to gneet reproff
with defiance. .
burg, nipptrig the cheeks and noses oi the
it incidatted the l'iill and came ripen the old
Thorndike Oath,. it hushed its shrill, joyous ' When supper was over, the old man re -
Christmas whistle, and with an. angry, tired to the librery, and Henry remained in
hopeless, wail Swept down on- the gloomy the dining -room to wait for the result of
his practical joke. Presently the pitifully
old mansion, arid shoek it well for. being 80 unyc,uthful curl of his lip grew more pro.
out of tune With the cheery Christmas-
tide.
Bat little didithe kriin old houee care how
the wind wailed or the -casements rattled.
Still less did the griinmer owner are as he
sat brooding in his library, staring with cold
defiance Of mertiory at the blazing hearth
fire, end letting; the 44arkness settle around
him. A gayly *Wetted tone falling on his
ear- brought a frowh to his forehead and
roused him. He reached out and tapped a
bell, 'The door' of the roorn wai quickly
opened, and a very precise -looking little old
mindetodd on the threshold, and said in a,
low, -respectful tone, .
"
- '' Yes, sir?"
Lights, David; and send Henry here."
• , c
The letups weer!, brought at once, and a
few minutes later e lad of about sixteen
years of age entered the room. In .;a way
he was handsome, for he had a weihkuit,
figure end regalfeatures; but he Warr not
pleasant to look hporinfor there was a dire
cagreeable, almost evil sneer habitually on
his face. The old man's face grew harder
when the boy entered the room and said,
"You wanted hie?"
"Yon were whistling that tune again,"
. said the old mari, abruptly and harshly;
and then as the boy merely looked at him
with ceding lip, but silent, he added, "It
was a tune of your father's, and I do not wish
to hear it." I
' "1 did not whistle the tune." ,
"1 heard you.l.
. .
"I may be like my father"—and though a
slight flush passed over the boy's face, the
most noticeable thing was his ugly enter—
"I may even be like my mother, and yet I
an not a liar. I did not whistle the tune."
"Never answer' me like that" (the old
man's voice was shaking with repressed'
anger) ---"never intaine Mail these letters
in the morning,"; 'He indicated several
sealed and directed letters on the table.
"I'd better mail: them to -night; the Post-
offi?xeywhiy?,
1191ose, early in m
the orning."
,
"Christmas," ,
"Christmas 1 Bahl Mail them to -nigh a
then."
The old intim scotvled angrily et the 'fire,
Boar's If was the custom in
merry Old England for th%butler with
great cam° ey to bring into the ban-
,
high spirits, since they think they're to geti
something. Won't the old man rave 1"
The old men had already turned his head
with a start of indignant. surprise, and a,
few seconds later he swung his chair about,'
and angrily stared toward the hall. He,
had heard such a stamping of feet and such
a chores of shrill, joyous voices in his vesti-
bule as had net sounded there these many
long years. Perhaps there had never sound-
ed such a noise there ; perhaps it was only
a trick of his brain that caused those dim
pictures of happy childish farces to float
through his memory. Perhaps. Well, they
might float there they should not affect
hitnh
Te be*11 was pulled, but it did not ring
out in quite the hearty, free, Christmas way'
the sturdy puller had evidently intended,:
but rather in a jangling fashion, as if it
would it could, but was really too much
out of practice in jolly ways to do the thing
right,
The old man could hear David open the
door, 'could hear a hushed protest, could
hear a gay mingling of "Merry Christma
" It's all right," "He sent for us," "Met ry
Christmas," ". Where is he ?" And. then
there warp a trooping across the great hall,
and the library door was thrown open by
David.
The room was swarming with children in
a moment. There were only six of them,
but they were very healthy, and were so in
he habit of filling up the rooms they were
in that they accommodated themselves with
great ease to the *spacious library. They
were shy enough, too, in the presence of the
hard, unsmiling old man, but their chubby
cheeks were red, and their eyes were snap-
ping bright, and their hearts were full of
joy, so they hailed him with a hearty
" Merry Christmas."
Quiet, subdued, and Careworn, but
full of happiness and gratitude, the
little, widow followed. her boisterous
brood into the library. Then only did the
hard old man spea-k. He uttered one hash
word,
"You are not human," she said.
The door closed on them, and the old
man, after staring a moment, commenced
a fierce pacing of the room, muttering a.11 he
walked. His eye fell at last on the little
woolly lamb, and he strode up to it and
crushed it under his heel. Then he walked
more, sometime going out of his way to
kick.aide the lamb, and sometimes stand-
ing Oil' and tinrying his faiie in his hands.
What was it that had so shaken the harsh
old nitin ? Why should he ati angrily Orusli
and spurn the poor little toy? What had
it done? Ah 1 it had taken o his
guard, and thrown wide open the do r of
memory, so that the troubling shado s of
hong ago might come trooping fort.hI and
plead with him, They were all the g ntle
memories of a happy boyhood, and he adiornt
ed them. He defied them too, and that is
why he put his cruel heel on the little &nib
and crushed it. Then the shadows seemed
sorrowful, and drooped. One in partichlar,
a sweet.ifteed little girl, bolding in her
hands just such a little lamb, seemed to
gaze at, him in grieved surprise.
He knew the lamb. He remembered it.
He had himself given it to that sweet faced
little girl. There 1 he could •see hiMself
now with the toy in his hand that long -ago
Christmas night stealing with boyish glee
throughthe silent darkness of the old hOuse
to put the lamb where the sleeping ahild
would surely see it the first thing whetshe
amerce in the morning. Then he could see
the sweet face growing pale and thin ; he
could see the tired, weary look in the eyes
which still had only love torrhirn. He could
see her in the little bed waiting 50 patient
ly for the longed for. relief ; and always}, al.,
ways there was he little woolly lamb mist -
and the lad, with geatifled malice on
face, as if he knew the thought of Christmas
gave pain to his grandfather, took up the
letters and left the btruse.
Snow had begun td fall, and was corning
down in great flakes '-. but he paid no atten-
tion to it, for his heait. was full of bitter,
unboyish thoughts of the old man he had
just left, and he strode rapidly down the
hill into the Own. He posted the lettere,
and then, with head bent in thought,
,tutemed up the main street. Not with any
intention, however, of participating in the
least in the ,plea,sures of the Christmas spec-
tacle, for not once in all the sixteen'yeare el
his life had he known what Christmas was,
reed he had come to 8c3rit it even as his
grandfather did. Bat as he walked he
made a gesture of tiratisfaction, and ex-
claimed :
"PP do it. It'llpay hint for calling me
a liar. He'll go crazy."
his
Si
Well
? JP
C:1
It chilled the little wom'
an and a start-
led look eprang to her eyes. She turned a
trifle pale, and falteredas she stepped for-
ward. Thinking itonly his way, however.
she advanced nearer to him, anct said, with
a grateful tremor in her voice,
How can we ever thank you, sir?"
"For what ? " he demanded, with•abrupt
harshness.
"For your kind gift," faltered the wid-
ow.
What gift?"
"The amount of the -interest on the mort-
gage."
"1 don't understand you, madam. If a
jest, it is a foolish one ; if a pretence, it is
an idle one. "
• " But your letter, " said
faintly.
" What letter? "
The little woman, struggling at once to
the widow,
ling on the pillow by the pale cheek or cli g-
ingly held in the transparent hands. •
Ah 1 little wonder that he buried his f ce
in his hands and groaned; little won er
that he paced the floor and muttered inco-
herent words ; little wonder that in fight-
ing the memory that would make the
greater part of hig life a wretched mistake
he should so wrathfully spurn - the
poor little toy lying maimed on the floor.
But still less wonder that he should at last
storm down and tenderly take up the lit4e
woolly lamb, and then sink, all trembling
and broken, into his big chair, and gtde
himself up to remorse—give himself up 0
thoughts of that other life which from its
cradle almost he had robbed of all tendert-
neer; and joy. Ah, well, there might ye
be time to save Harry. At least he coul
try to compensate him for his lost boyhoodt
But first he Must hasten to undo this night'a
cruel work. And the old man, with strange
-He walked into a store where he was smile, as if she fain would believe he was tenderness, began to stroke the little woolly,
evidently well known, for he asked for and joking, and to keep back the tears that her lamb, muttering, brokenly, the while I
received permission to use their type -writ- fears urged to floiv, funibled in her pocket "Not human ! Right, right; and haven't1
been these years and years. Struck her,
too. Poor little thing ! But she's a -child
she'll forgive me."
He toughed the bell on the table, and
David quickly answered the summons. i
"Davie," said the old man, gently; and
then, seeitig Min start, added, " I haven't
called you so these many years, have I;
Davie?! . .
"No, sir," answered the faithful old ser-
vant, looking anxiously at his master.
" Oh, its not sickness'Davie," said the
old man, interpreting the look; "I'm quite
well, Davie; a Merry Christmas to you;
Davie."
"A merry Christmas, sir," stammered
David. -
" And where's Harry ? where's the boy?'
" Master Harry. sir—"
--
"Harry, after this, Davie. There's more
love in it. Davie; and—and, we'll- have a
bit oflove here after this if we can—if it
sn't to late. Where is Harry ?"
" Gone out, sir." ,
"Ah 1 Gone out. Nothing here to keep
him even on Christmas Eve, is there,
Davie? Nothing .here ! But there will be
Davie—there will be. Get me my hat and
coat, Davie, lad." -
- "But surely, sir, you'll not go out to-
night? - It's snowing hard and cold arid--"
"Davie, I'd, not stay in to -night if I knew
it'd freeze me. - Nay, Davie, lad, but I've
found Christmas °nee again, and I afraid
I'll lose it if I don't go out.
"At least, sir, let me go with you."
" What 1 arid run the risk of Harry com-
ing home and waiting outside! No, no,
Davie; stay here, stay here."
. .
" * ' -, , 1... _ , 1 t___ t i._ .1... . 1..... t-1-. " „,:',.: 4,-..-... :....
POOR COP -Y
-er. To that he sat down, and wrote the
following, which seemed to greatly delight
him:
Mr. Ralph Th.orndike presents his com-
pliments to Mrs. Kate Morgan, and wishing
her a merry Christmas, begs to say that in
consideration of bis .friendship for her
father, and as a reminder of this happy sea-
son, he wishes to present to her the amount
of her interest, $50, of the mortgage held
by him. He would also say that he will
have a Christmas tree at hie house on this
-Christmas Eve, and will esteem it a favour
if M rs, Morgan will forget past unkindnesses,
end be p eitent with all her children at eight
"There 1" chuckled Henry, "that ought
to fetch them; and won't' the old man be
crazy when the widow and all of her six
brats go trooping in with their Merry
Christmases 1 Well, it'll pay off this score,
anyhow."
He directed an envelope .with the type-
writer, for he did not vvish to do anythieg
.
for the letter.
"There, -sir," she said; finally, 88 she
handed it to him.
He took it, and read it, and a bitter, con-
temptoousaeowl distorted his face.
." And," he exclaimed, with biting_ scorn,
"you were fool enough to believe that I
sent this drivel ?"
The poor little.. woman • glanced. pitifully
at the staring children, and faintly bowed_
her head.
" You in your senses," he went on, cut-
tingly, "and believed that Ralph Thorn-
dike would have a Christmas tree and—and"
—he -a -wept the group' of children with his
cold eyes, and in • atilonte almost of lfstred
added—" these things iis his house. I did
not write the letter. It is what is called a
practical joke I suppose."
He wheeled 'his chair around, as if to inti-
mate that the interview was at an end. The
widow !hared wildly at him for a moment,
started, to speak, but changing her mind,
choked beck a cry of despair that rose to her
that would bring the trick home to him in lips, and with blinded eyes turned toward
case of an investigation, and then hurried the doer, stretching Ierms out as if she
• over to the other side of town. 1 He etole would et, protect her dea ones. Half -ay
cautiously up lo the door of a neat little across the room she stopp d and turned back
cottage, and first thrusting the letter under -.-the loving mother. had conquered the In-
- the door, rang the bell, and ran away to stilted woman.
find shelter behind a tree, He saw the door "But the interest, sir," she said to him
opened and the letter found, and then has. in a low voice.
" Well, what of it V'
" Yeu will give me a little time, will you
not ri
" Arid why ?" •
"1 had the money ready, but I believed
teen years that Henry had lived with his the letter was genuine and—and we needed
Ir.srA hnel hppn. criv frlaTIV •thines. and I bought them. I would
tene ome.
Supper that night at the Thorndike man-,
sion was a gloomy, silent meal. But that
was nothing unusual: all the meals were
that, and always had been during the four-
.
He hurried through the streets of Oldburg, other, dissatisfied, disconsolate. Nothing
and crossed to the other side of town, where suited her. The truth is, when a girl does
the widow Morgan lived. He went straight not need an earthly thing, and is yet de -
up to the door, and rang the bell. The
widow herself opened the door. She start-
ed back with a frightened look on her face
when, she saw who it was.
" Oh ! oh 1 You, Ur, Thorndike 1" she
cried, in an unnecessarily loud voice, as if
she wished those inside to hear who in was.
"Yes, ma'am ; yea, I. I've come to ask
your pardon, widow, for my brutality to
you, and—and, please, Mrs. Morgan, be
good to me, and let me into 'your
house. I—I want t� make my peace with
that baby."
" Yes, frith; yes—but---" -
The little widow was singularly agitated.
"But you must let me in, widow; in-
deed you must. There, the door is shut.
Now take me to where- they are. Oh,
'know they hate me, but they'll like me by.
and -by maybe. I don't deserve it, but I
hope they will."
. He was so different from the hard, cold
man of an hour ago that, the widow was
quite bewildered, and did not trppose his
progress into the eitting-room. He opened
the doer and looked in. "Oh! hellot" he
cried.
Henry, defiant of hearing and scornful of
lip, stood confronting him, with the chil-
dren huddled behind him.
"You here, Harry 1" cried the old man.
.." Now Prn glad of that, but don't look so
at me. I've come here, Harry, to ask Mrs.
Morgan to forgive me, and to beg the chil-
dren's pardon. And I want you to try to
forgive, Harry, boy."' The old man's voice
was broken, but he went right ,on. "I've
led you a cold, hard life, Harry. I thought,
because your father displeased me, I had a
right to treat you so. I was wrong, Harry.
There's my hand, Harry; surely. you can
take an old man's hand. Why, there, I'm
crying. Harry, boy, your hand, please."
The defianee and the scorn melted out of
the young face, and pity and wonderment
came in their stead. He took the outstretch-
ed hand in both of his, and sobbed out:
"Oh, etre forgive me,! I sent that let-
ter.
" You 1 Oh, harry 1"
"It was t•o-hurt you, sir, not them, 011,
sir, when I saw .them in their distress I
could have eaten my heart out with shame,
and remorse,
and I came here to make it all
right with them."
• Harry, boy, call me grandfather."
" Yes, grandfather."
. "Mrs. Morgan, do you forgive a wicked
old man who is heartily sorry ?"
" With all my Leant."
And you, little one, will you? And will
you kiss me ?"
"Es, sir. Did you pit up de lamb where
it failed down ?"
" I did, and it shall be buried with me
when I die." to -day ?
There ?vas a Christmas tree that year at 1 " Yes'n-a a big kettle full ; I've got ten
the Thorndike house. cents to buy a bone with. I generally get
a five -cent one; but we thought for
A TEN -DOLLAR CHRISTMAS. Christmas we would haveit find. My broth-
er is to be home to dinner; he is most twelve,
and
dhleikrewessaosa
up.
Tmistebefore Adele's eyes that
the frosty air did not make. She brushed
it away and settled her plans.
IP
termined to spend some money, she is some.
times rather difficult to suit. She halted
at lest before a show window and looked at
the bright fineries displayed there. $o did
hittle Janey Hooper, who had come out
with ten cents to buy a Soup bone for the
day's dinner. Adele, turning from the
window, jostled against her, and looked
downtupon the mite. She seemed not more
than eight, yet there was a wise, grown.up
look in her eyes which held the homesiok
girl's attention.
"Are you trying to make Chrietmas too?
What do you see in the window you like?"
"Everythhig," said the little girl simply.
"Do you ?, you are fortunate,. Are you
going to buy them all ?"
"0, ne not a, single one. I couldn't."
Adele, lookingclosely at her, was seized -
with a sudden impulse. "Suppose you
could buy one thing, what 'would it be ?"-
she asked.
The little girl's eyes flashed. "Oh 1 I
would buy that shawl—that soft gray one
with pussy fringe—it looks just like
mother."
It was a dingy little shoulder shawl, of
the kind which can be hought for two dole'
tars. "Does your mother need a shawl? '
asked Adele.
"0, yee'm 1 she needs • it badly enough ;
but we are not going to get one, not this
year; we can't."
There was decision and 'composure in the
tone, like a woman Who had settled the
whole question, and put it beyond the
range of argument. Her manner amused
Adele.
" That was for your mother," she said;
"what would you choose for youreelf ? "
" Me ?" said the child surprised. " Oh 1
I don't know. I might take that brown
coat, maybe, or some mittens, or don't
know which -I would take. What's the use ?"
She was turning away; but Adele's glov-
ed hand detained her. The little sack she
wore Wfb8 much too thin for so cold a morn -
trig.
"Wait a minute," she said gently. Tell
me what your name is, won't you, and where
you live, and what you carte out for this
cold morning with so thin a sack?"
"I'm Jane), Hooper; we live down there
on Factory Lane. It wasn't far to go, and
my sack is -worn ont, that is why it is so
thin ; but it With do very well for this
winter. I came oat to buy the Christmas
dinner."
"Did you, indeed 1 Aren't you very
young to go to market ?"
"0, no, madam 1 I'm turned nine, and the
oldest of four and father's dead. Of course
I have to do all I can. I know how to
choose a lovely soup bone."
" Do you? Are yon going to have soup
Adele Chester had never spent a Christ-
mas in the country before ; neither had she
ever felt quite so dreholate. Mother and
father were in Europe, in search of health
for the father, and -Adele, who had been
left in charge of Aunt Martha, had herself
decreed that she would go nowhere for
Christmas.
" I can't be happy and frolic when papa
is sick," she said ; turd,as for the country,
if Aunt Martha, can live there all her life, I
think I can endure one Christmas." So
she had staid ; but it must be confessed
that the world looked dreary to her that
wintrt morning, with nothing but snow to
be seen from her windo . She almost
thought she would have been wise, to have
joined the Hamilton cousins. "At least
there would have been a chance to spend
my -Christmas money," she murmured
gloomily, as she tapped on the frosty paee
with restless, fingers. "I'm sure I don't
know what I can buy in this little tucked -
up place."
The "tucked -up place" was really a nice
town with about three thousand people liv-
ing in it, but to Adele, whose home was in
Toronto it seemed absurd to call it a town.
Aunt Martha's farmhouse was only half a
mile from some very good stores, • where
Adele had found a few things to suit her
during the three months she had spent there,
and on the whole she had managed to be
quite happy. But 'the did not feel like
being suited with anything this morning.
Such a queer Christmas for her! She had
her presenter, as usual—a new fur cap from
Aunt Martha, a writingtdesk well furnished
from Uncle Peter, a lovely ring with a real
diamond in it from mamma, and a new
chain for her pretty watch from papa.
What more could a reasonable girl want ?
Truth to tell, she wanted nothing but the
dear homee and mamma's kisses' and papa's
arms around her. The ring andchain were
beautiful, but they did not seem like pres-
ents from them,when she knew they crossed
the ocean. weeks ago, and had been lying in
Aunt Martha's bureau drawer waiting
for this morning. She valued the letter
More which had arrived only the night be-
fore, and she drew it from her pocket and
kissed it, letting a tear or two fall on the
words, "My Darling Child," as she read
them once more. "Papa and I are so sorry
to he away from you to -day," the letter
read ; "we have tried to find something
suitable to send on so long a journey, and
planned to reach you on the very day, but
have failed ; papa has not been well enough
to look about much for a few, weeks, and I after the girl's skill was exhausted.
a«is that too heavy for you?" said Adele.
could not go alone. At last we decided to
"0, no, ma'am 1" Bobby assured her.
send you a fifty -dollar bank note and bid
"Very well; I want you to take it to this
you go and spend it ih the way which would
littlegirl's inether's -house, and tell her
make you happiest."Sante Claus sent it to go with the soup, and
"The idea 1" said Adele, smiling through
her tears, as she -refolded the letter, " just that it has given him a happy Christmas to
so. Will you remember ? '
as though I could find anything here to buy do . .
He nodded brightly; stuffing rosy -checked
to make me happy! °Mamma mu-st have
apples into his pocket the while, and they
forgotten for the moment where I was. Yet
trudged
I want a few things, some Christmas bon- ged away, Janey trying to murmur her
bewildered protests, while Adele paid her
bill. .
"I've spent every cent of my ten dollars,"
she told Aunt Martha an hour later. "I
haven't even enough to buy yon any Christ-
mas bonbons; but I have obeyed. mamma's
directions; I was to buy something to make
me happy, and I haven't felt so happy in
weeks as I do (his minute. When I get,
my things put away I'll come down and tell
you all about it."
Aunt Martha watched her bound up, the
stairs, a glow on her cheeks and. a sparkle
ifi her eyes which they had lacked when she
went out; and whatever the purchase had
been, she was grateful.
As for 'Taney Hooper and her mother, to
Come in here with me a minute,", she
said ; " I want your help about something."
The child followed her wonderingly, with
eyes that grew every moment larger as the
thisk brown coat which hung on a wire fig-
ure was taken down and deliberately tried
by the smili'ng shop girl on her quaint little
self.
" It fits to a T," said the girl; "Janey
has a pretty tiger° and that just suits her.
" It is warm, at least," said Adele. "Did
yon say it was two and a hall? What an
absurd price 1 Keep it on, child; it is for
you. This is Christmas; you know, and
Santa Claus sent it to yoa. Now that
shoulder shawl."
A moment more, and it was in Janey's
astonished arms. Her eyes sparkled, but
she made an earnest protest: "Oh 1 if you
please, I dons t think lean ; I am afraid mother
would not"—
" Your mother cannot help herself," in-
terrupted Adele. "Don't you know I told
you it was Santa. Claus? He does what he
likes always. Come along, I'm going to
market with you ; I want to see you, pick
out a soup bone. Is it to go in that bas-
ket, ?"
_
She picked it out with grave care and with
skill, Adele and the market man watching
her the while. "Isn't it a nice one, Bobby?
said the child, to a stout boy who had also
stopped. Adele turned as the freckled boy
nodded. _
"Who is this? Is he a friend of yours?
Well, Bobby, Santa Claus wants you to do
an errand for him, will you? He will give
you four of those red.cheeked apples if you
wilt"
The boy laughed good-naturedly, and said
he didn't know much about Santa Claus,
but he would do whatever she wanted done.
"Very well," said Adele merrily; "1
want that market basket which hangs up
there. Can you lend it to this boy for a
little while?" The market man declared
his entire willingness to do so and kept
Jitney Hooper waiting for her bone while he
filled that basket with everything which
Adele's eyes could discover, which might
add to a Christmas dinner. There was a
plump chicken, a roast of beef, a stein.; of
sausage, some potatoes, apples, onions,
turnips, a great bunch .of celery, and, in
short, whatever the market man suggested,
bons, at least, if they know the meaning of
the word in this little place, and above all
want a brisk walk in the snow. I shall
take ten dollars of my fifty, and go out and
spend it; I won't waste another cent on
this old town. I wonder what I can do
with ten dollars to make me happy ?" She
'laughed half ecornfully. Ten dollars seem-
ed so very little to this girl, who had always
spent money as freely as water, and done as
!little thinking about h as the birds do over
the spring cherries.
In a very few minutes she was wrapped
de furs and out upon the snowy road. Aunt
'Martha offered her the sleigh and the driver,
nd her "leggings" and woolen mittens, but
he would have none of them. She was a
g
sag nothing of Bobby, who took dinner with ood walker, and had been used to miles in
the city. She hid her nose in her ,nuff, be -
them, you Must imagine how they felt.
cause the wind over this wide stretch of
Snow was very keen, and sped along " like
a snowbird," Aunt Martha said, watching
her from the window. And then she sighed,
this dear old auntie whom the c3untry
eatisfied. She saw the shade on the face of
her darling this morning, and was sorry for
her, and wished so much that she could do
something to brighten her Christmas day.
The little town was reached in due time,
and the streets were gay with Christmas
finery; the stores were open quite gener-
ally, to catch the belated Christmas
buyers. In a hour or two they would
A SWITABLE CHRISTMAS. PRES-
ENT.
WHAT HAPPENEIj Freon NOT HAVING
CARVING KNIFE. -
Dick and Maggie had been married only
three months. As is often the mon, some
of their ,vedding presents were ddilicates,
while some other things, just as necessary,
were forgotten altogether. The worst of s
it was, that, as they lived in a village, and
the presents were all from dear friends or
relatives, they could not exchange them,
as we ace told they sometimes do in the
cities. However, Maggie being a sensible
little woman, with a, knack ot making
things do, they had got along very well. '
It was the first of December, and Maggie,
as she arranged the tea -table, was review-
ing, mentally,
her list of presents for Christ-
mas. It had beeetsuch a busy year—first,
the endless preparations for the wedding,
and since then, the setting to rights and
making pretty of her little home—that she
had not found the time for much " fancy-
work," so she would have to buy the most of
them.
She knew just what mother and the girls
would like—Father, too—in fact, her list
was all oomplete and satisfactory, with the
exception of something for Dick. "Last,
but not least, oh, no ld she thought to her-
self with a happy smile. If he only smoked 1
To be sure, she was glad he did not; she
thought it an untidy, expensive hebite but
there were always so many pretty things
one could give a smoker.
Here the click of the gate latch interrupt-
ed her thoughts, and she flew to open the
door.
During the progress of their evening meal,
Maggie was so unusually quiet, that Dick
finally noticed it, and asked,
"What's up, little woman?
gone wrong to -day ?"
".No. Why ?"
"You seem so quiet."
"Oh, I've been thinking."
"That's nothing new. What about ?"
"About Christmas. I can't think of any-
thing to give you ; you have everything.
"That's so. Don't give me anything.
You have given me yourself; that will do
for one while,"
"What rubbish 1" she said, with a pleased
blush. "Any -way, I want to give you
something; It would not seem like Christ-
mas if I didn't 1" -
"Well, get something we will both enjoy
—something we need about the house.
That will do first-rate."
• The next day as soon as Maggie had fin-
ished washing the dinner dishes, and had
tidied the kitchen, she donned her stylish
walking suit, and set out for one of the two
hardware stores of the village. Not faidt
ing anything that eithed her rather fasti-
dious taste, she left an order with the pro-
prietor, to be sent to the city and filled.
Then'rn
visiting some other stores to co-
plets
her list of presents, she turned her
face homeward, with a feeling of satisfac-
tion that the problem was solved.
Anything
The following week, Maggie invited her
mother, Mrs. Ripple, and the girls, Annie
and Katie, to spend a long day with her.
Pa Ripple wag to come honae with Dick at
noon. It was an occasion when Dick and.
Maggie felt very anxious that, their little
establishment should have its "best foot
foremost ; " for, although the family had
"dropped in" singly, tune and again, at
meal -time, this was their first attempt to
have them all at a formal dinner.
The table looked very pretty in all
the bravery of bridal linen, china and
silver. As Maggie proudly surveyed
it, she heard her father and Dick
come in. The latter came hurrying
out, his arms full of bundles. "See
here, Pet," he began, in a pleased tone, "1
eaw them, unpacking these grapes and
oranges as we carne along, and I thought
they would give just the right look to the
table. And look at this," opening a long
'package, "I remembered how I have had
to carve with the Witcher -knife all along,
and thought it would never do with all our
finery to -day, and I saw this nice carving
set at, Hardy's and I couldn't resist. Per-
haps it was extravagant," he continued,
•answering an inexplicable look on her face,
"but we call it part of our Christmas in
advanee. Is it all right ?"
" Yes, of course, you dear fellow 1" she
answered, swallowing a great many un-
spoken thoughts. " it is just what I was
wishing for. Now go in and make your-
self charming, while I 41:e up dinner.
" You are sure youarepleased ? I thought
it would just suit 1" h
" Yes, yes 1" she said hurriedly, " go or
things will scorch 1"
When all were seated around the glitter-
ing table, and Dick, with a flourish, took
up the new carving knife and fork, Annie
and Katie exchanged glances, and then
looked at Mr. Ripple.
Something new ?" asked the latter.
"Yes," said Dick, "I got them to -day;
I was tired of carving with the butcher -
knife."
Katie looked at Annie again, and both
giggled,
"What's the joke?" said Dick.
"Nothing," said Katie. Pa and M;),
Ripple were both smiling now, and Dick
looked stupidly from ore to the other.
"I declare, I don't see any thing funny 1"
he said at last.
"Tell him !" Tell hint 1" cried the two
girls, now laughing outright.
"Yes do said Dick.
"There, there, girls, don't be silly! They
are laughing, Dick, because when we went
to the city shopping, two weeks ago, we all
settled on a handsome carving set as s
Christmas present for you and Maggie; for
we remembered you had none, and thought
it would please you both."
"Did you 1" cried Maggie, "and only last
week, I left an order for one at Steele s for
Dick's Christmas gift, because he told me to
to get something we both wanted, and I
thought we needed that most of all,"
"There! I knew you were not pleased,
somehow, when I came with this! No
wonder 1"
"Ha, ha! hat" "Ile 1 he he 1" "Ho
ho ho 1"
Long and loud, they all laughed, some
one of them beginning again, and so start-
ing theothers, every time there was a pause.
It was a merry meal. •
As they arcae from the table there were
sounds of an arrival in froth of the house—
wheels, then the gate latch clicking and
voices. • Going out, they found Dick's
father and mother, just in from their home
in the country. is soon as the coinfusion
had subsided, they were told the " Carving -
set joke." They were not so much amused
as had been expected, but looked at each
other and said:
" *ell, did you ever 1"
"Now what's the matter 1" exclaimed -
Dick.
Why, Pa and I," said his mother, "had
sent for one, too. We noticed when we
were here last that you didn't have one."
Here the old lady's voice was drowned in
shouts of laughter. How they laughed, and
laughed
"1 hope and trust," said Dick finally,
wiPing his eyes, "that nobody else has
noticed that we haven't a carving -set
Mistletoe.—A parasitical bush to b
found on many trees in southern
England, and more rarely in other lo-
calities and countries. It has white
traLAitcent berries, and leaves of a
yellowish -green color. It was regard-
ed as a sacred plant by the Druids in
early England. The custom of kissing
under the mistletoe appears in both
' e1i 1 • `-•In;