Decatur Democrat, Volume 51, Number 16, Decatur, Adams County, 26 December 1907 — Page 6

rIBMBHBMB* *4•<*.«!•< SANTA’S II I LIGHT I I LOAD ! • ’ By BERTHA E. BUSH. (Copyright, IW7. by Wright A. Pattonon.) UT, mamma, Santa Claus can go anywhere where there is snow. He has his sleigh, you know. And there is snow here, plenty of snow.” The sick woman, lying on the bed in the little pioneer cabin, looked at the white whirl of flakes that shut out all but the gray daylight from the little windows and shuddered. Yes. there was plenty of snow. You could not see even the dimmest outline of anything that was ten feet away. And somewhere out in the snow—she knew not where —her husband was journeying. Three weeks ago he had started to the nearest town 60 miles away for supplies. He had been sure that he would return in a week. Was he lying now under one of those huge white drifts? Was he out in this dreadful blizzard, perhaps freezing to death at this very minute. She turned away from the window and moaned. She could not bear to answer the child. But Hattie, the hired girl, who never seemed to lose heart, answered cheerily: ■'Land sakes, yes. there is plenty of snow. Lillie. But you know Santa Claus is getting old. He can drive in the snow of course, but a howling blizzard like this might freeze him stiff. You'd better make up your mind not to get any Christmas presents this year, Lillie. You wouldn't want dear old Santa Claus frozen to death." "No, of course not. But papa goes out on the prairie. Why shouldn’t Santa Claus? Don't you think he could get here with a light load? You

|f| I ' **ZF ■ n w? qe ■ ' rsMw But Even Mark’s Ghost was Welcome. ki; ve came, we got stuck in tl s' ots of times and para u wagon and ? t it a< . oss e*" . t you thick Santa Claus cou d de “Yes all,” said Hattie, with deter.' She . y the hired girl who had come Id i . diy pioneer fashion to help th- -tilers wife through her elcknes ,it to the inma -of the little he was a ituistering angel. g and faithful and efficient, a: gel could hardly have done mor that prairie home Yet she did r look in the least like an angel as e put on the p neer s old cap and ... tied a red woolen scarf around t- teck, drew old stockings over her shoes and floundered out through the drifts, stout and rosy in the wind, to do the chores for the night. Not a glimpse of the near by barn could be obtained from the cabin door. Ha tie tied a long rope to the door knob and carefully held the other end as she walked toward it. She pulled down hay and fed the stock and milked. She brought out pails full of the snow water she had melted in the big wash boiler for them to drink She brought tn a great supply of fuel and marie everything outdoors and in as snug and cheery as possible. Then she cooked the supper—that did not take long for there was little to cook--and washed up the dishes and cared for the sick woman and the little babe. She put Lillie to bed in the queer little trundle-bed —the child chattering about Santa Claus every minute —and tucked her in as happy as it there were no fear or anxiety in the world; oh, what would the pioneer families have done without the "girls" of that time? The mercury ranged 4 and 5 degrees below zero. The storm outside howled with the fury of a legion of demons. In some drift out there in the whiteness John Carver might; Ms ■inking to death now. The baby cried and the sick woman moaned. There was no lack of occupation for the young helper. Hattie's strong arms hold the ehild till it was quieted end at the same time heated flannels, brought water, smoothed pillows, and did everything that could bo done for the anxious young mother. "Hottie, you haven't anything to

worry you.” cried the sick woman, enviously. “Not a thing except what worries other people,' answered Hattie. But she knew that all the time she carried beneath her songs and cheery words a heartache that was as hard to bear as the young wife's own It was Mark for whom her heart ached. A year ago she had thought that by this time she and Mark would be settled in a pioneer cabin of their own. Her quilts were all quilted, her store of household goods was ready. But a coldness had come between them, and Mark had gone away—‘"back east where girls were plenty” Since then she had been learning to live without him and it was a bitter lesson. True she did not speak of it, not even to her best friends, but the ache was always there. Her w-ork was done at last. She had time to look at little Lillie slum bering in her low trundle-bed with her stocking spread out trustingly on the pillow beside her. Now was the time for Santa Claus to come. Rut the sick mother was too ill and broken with anxiety to be bothered. There was nobody to fill that stocking but Hattie, and nothing to fill it with except what her girl's wit might de- | vise. She was very tired All day she had been battling against storm and 1 sickness, doing a woman's work and a man's too. Now she must do Santa Claus' work Was ever a Santa Claus so sleepy* Oh. what would she not give to throw herself on the bed, dressed as she was, and sleep? Rut • there was no time for that Santa Claus must come to the waiting child She knew that in a little while the sick woman would rouse again and need her. Softly and wearily she lifted the one little drop-leaf table over to the window farthest from the sick i mother and placed the lamp upon It i Then she got out her precious, diminishing store of letter paper that had to be brought to her from 6 miles away, like the rest of the supplies, and the clumsy shears, and began to make paper dolls. Clip, clip, went the big shears. That and the rustle of the paper were the only sounds to be heard Gradually she , realized that the howling of the wind had ceased and the blizzard bad gone down.

Lillie's words kept repeating themselves sleepily tn her tired brain “A light load. " Surely this Christmas gift would be light enough for Santa Claus to take anywhere. Clip, clip, went the shears, and wonderful creations fell from Hattie's hands. There was a father with a miniature newspaper spread out before him There was a mother with a baby in her arms and another in a tiny paper cradle at her feet. There were brothers and sisters. Snip—snip—Her hands went slower and slower until the last of the paper family trailed off into aimless . Utting Then Hattie s weary head sank down on the table and Hattie was asleep. Asleep aud dreaming of 4 Mark. tn the daytime she could keep the thought of him away from her with fierce determination In the night it would come She was dreaming and she knew it. She bad dreamed of him too often not to know. And in her dream the door burst open and Mark stood beiore her. Os course it could not be real. Or. rather, it vas a dream of Mark’s ghost all d attly white. But even Mark’s ghost was welcome. There could not be any harm in embacing a ghost in a dream. She threw her arms around bis neck — But this was no dream It was too solid and it was too cold. It was a real man who stood b >fore her. benumbed with cold and covered with snow from head to foot. In a flash she came out of her dream It was well for Mark that she was just what she was. and that she knew what to do She bro >-:ht the great tub of melting snow-water, cut off the frozen footwear and mit tens and plu-r?d his feet and hands in it. She rubbed his face with snow. She made hot coffee —blessing the forethought that had kept the kettle filled with boiling water for the sick woman’s use- and forced him to drink it. Little by little lite and strength came back to him and incoherent words. "Started—with Craver He wanted —to see —his wife. I wanted —to see —you. Blizzard came up Lost our way. Dug a hole in the snow and stayed two night Went a long while —and came to Smith's farm. Craver — too badly frozen--to go on Wil) be all right after awhile, but couldn’t go on then. Wanted to like fury Smith had to hold him back Good thing He couldn't have come on his frozen feet I—came on —alone Got lost again Been lost all day Pretty near — gave out. Thought I'd have —to give up. So dark aud cold. Saw—your light when wind went down. Came to —you.” The words might be jerky and dis--1 jointed, but Hattie understood it and ■ never words sounded sweeter. "Santa Claus did come in the night,” ! chirruped Lillie. “I saw him. He was i all white And he brought me this." She held up the precious paper doll family. "Aren’t they lubbly. I fought he could get froo with a light load.” Thea- Mother thought came to her. "But he didn’t bring anyflng to you. Hattie. That’s too bad." “No, no, it’s as good as-it could be.” Hattie laughed oat In pure joy. “He brought me the one thing I wanted most In the world. And I shall be thankful to'ilm every day I like;'for if I had* not kept my lamp burning in the window while-1 was working— I mean waiting for *'*— weeMK net have found the wag.”

■ The Cfxjsthnas Tree banks C 0 - • \ ' "'p' Am Wiltin’ I For the cornin’ O’ Christmas, you bet. b? AnM,guess ( "bC There’ll be \ ' Os \. DdftnL-ta-tdVrtron Thatj when the ZV p Time com®’round besides, . » A i: Roller -'skating -,VMy ,N ■ ''ll' . Byes, ainT It fine wfieiT-eSsh A Vtfe sto?esTs crowded and ( z Packet^ itjom ceilings to floofs wlth things , ’ \CI 1 every orjerio’ J C-vC He's sure of dem, too>. Ain’t q / It, fun /fcerizKery oni's^ocXag'zJ| There jinT--atiy bad,An’ ma,-dan’ Aunt-Lucyy-ln'sis apo-Ungelso'lmercydfJanv-such is. I’m/afraid I can Wait fur the tjine it JI. to me now I: can.b««r=Ffaint’ sojjtjjl o’ sleighbells — A jingliqgjlt seems I ian seefiby candles all lighted y , f \" Up in/ bigtfee, an’ big'cbrnacopiaxfilled, to the brim jvj / VCith cihdy that/melts meutif; z every<hnib o’ the z-f' — Tree 'loadethdqwn with the.bestest of roySk-What squawks, or plays 'fl''’ \f / Music,’or darEeSr-oCjfoes, somethin’ (5 x Gjrls kntfw what youWnk is the best, but *3| k For”me there ain’t nuahin* else'on fills eartflquite so / Fine as a veil lit up, loaded, down' Christmas tree, That fer~mine! My you Blinkrjesas if it was sb Uhat, L’ai sayin’—it ’>Ain’t,but it sur4 isVfotoYtJ be thfeEEtewhiz ! it s the J. *d X Awiyoff In the his ear field close ti a telephone we never'. -y U v he ain’t yoii an^hTymefaklsone -<? Il O’ theql ?wirelets tftat’s bow heJtnowMvfilt esch.~ | II 'goy an’ gid is/ wlshln/for? he don’t. ’membgrs/ytM bet, pVSrything. JI, He’U bringthe ».knife with a handle ofjjprie, an’ ’at plays songs ’At, I-Jikojan’ » bike,4 golf bag an’ clubs, an’ two Teddy i —A - Cgn tame ’em), a fleauafuL/ook ’it’s chuck '8 ' Ful) o’ fightin’—some paper jo write on —all the j| Thing/ ’at I wish for k§ee.whejiT look but I never could Never mind, 11 '’Af^zph’They’l l be Vj, Hang I n ’ Right up~there for me, when Christmas Comes ’round, on the evergreen Greeting May He, whose star shone bright and clear To guide the wise men on their way, Be thy sure refuge, ever near To help, to comfort, night and day.

The spirit of Christmas! What is the spirit of Christmas? Is it the generous spirit, the spirit of giving? Yes, but that is not all. There will be millions of gifts made between now and the new year, and they will not all express the Christmas spirit. Some will be made out of pockets of plenty and thus entail no personal service; some will be made under compulsion of supposed necessity. How many people give things at this time because they think they must They must give to those who, they hope or fear, will give to them. It is almost unfortunate that giving and taking has become such a feature of our Christmas celebration because the mere gift is incapable of expressing the spirit of this occasion, and the occasion itself has become a burden to many because it has been so much abused. It is not by giving lavishly that we honor Christ, whose birth we celebrate, but by sharing unselfishly every good th'ng we possess This puts the best things of Christmas within reach of every human life and enables every human being however poor in goods to give generously of whatever else he has. We all have much. Is money denied us, then let us give what is better, a word to cheer, a smile to awaken hope, something out of our hearts' treasure. Who would not rather get a cordial message from a friend that would express his thought and appreciation, than to get a dollar trinket? What heresy to think that we cannot express an unselfish love at Christmas time except by lavish use of money. The spirit of Christmas is the spirit of

’T’HE bells of Yule ring loud and clear A Across the threshold of the year; V/ EQ JZi The quiet moon is rising slow /vs Beyond the margin of the snow; £ln| The white glint sparkles far and near. How long have those old sounds been dear 1 Kv How long have we from youth to sear atS Re-heard their rippling carol flow, — The bells of Yule I Old days return: old dreams appear; yfi Old conflicts rise of Hope and Fear; And yet, with all, ’tis good to know Despite Life’s change of kiss and blow, We still thank God to hear once more The bells of Yule I - AUSTIN DOBfiOK Qd a r ■ » r “ j -•» - • vjX

Christ He came on a giving mission but the gift was Himself —His life! Silver and gold had He none to give, but He gave health to the diseased, sight to the blind, hope to the despairing and salvation to all who will accept it He proved His unselfish love not only by giving but by sharing, by undergoing, not only for us but with us. all our griefs and temptations. Would we honor Christmas and enjoy it. we must not only give but give wisely. Whether it be a trinket, a watch, a picture, a book, or a cordial word and a warm grasp of the hand, let it be an expression of the giver's hearty identification with the other’s interests and needs. —Ram’s Horn. Changed History of World. The history of the world prior to Christ is a history of barbarism, cruelty and bloodshed. Read the history of Babylon, Persia, Greece and Rome and you read a history of vice, degradation and crime. A history that is written in blood and iniquity. The classic Greeks and tenacious Romans worshiped a multitude of gods. Even the inhabitants of Syria had gone astray until it was declared by the prophet. Our worthy ancestors, the Teutonics, were a semibarbarous people without literature, without government, without refinement and without religion, but when they received the glad tidings of the gospel of Christ their habits were changed, their manners refined and their civilization improved. Wherever this gospel is proclaimed it is as a well of water springing up into everlasting life.

: Extenuating | : Circumstances t + A Christmas Story : It + By ANDREW D. GRANGE. > * — ’ fr (Copyrl<at. l«W. by Wriest A. CAtterson.) I. ST was an unpardonable liberty. said Kitty. The temptation —” I began. She cut me short with an angry little frown. That has nothing whatever to do with it," she remarked icily Ou the contrary.” said I. ‘it palliates the offense. If it does not altogether excuse it Let us consider the facts of the case You were spending Christmas with your aunt. Mrs. Glentorridon. in the country. One evening, as you were passing along a darkened corridor, on the wav to. your room, vou met a certain gentleman—” He wasn't a gentleman." she inter>osed quickly. Oh'" 1 exclaimed T certainly hought that your aunt's guests—” He wasn't a true gentleman." she added disdainfully "or he wouldn't ave acted as he did.” A discourteous gentleman then — vbo taking advantage of the darkness, leliberately kissed vou upon—- " Don't be ridiculous!' she snapped. I asked you to help me” I am endeavorin-’ to do so,' said I. Then do it properly!" I assumed in air of profound gravity Kitty rearded me thoughtfully out of a corler of her deep blue eye "You see, she continued. "I don't know who it vas—and —well, you know, it makes t rather awkward for me” "Didn’t you see Ms face?” 1 asked. "No." she answered “He came up behind and —and i was all over in a second " She shuddered prettily. "It was quite dark." she added, "and I

— k. t,- Dk WOp -r Win s^.' Deliberately Kissed You. only saw his shirtfront He was in evening dress you know ” "But were ere no distinguishing eatu-es. such as a shirt stud or—a noustache’' suggested. "Oh. yes’’ he responded quickly he had a n stache; and I think he vas tall, be a se he had to bend down when —when r e did it His shirt stud vas a plain d one, I believe ” "Well,” said i, how many tall men vere there in the party who possessed mustaches and plain gold shirt studs?” Let me see.” she mused; "there was Capt Jack Harland Mr Porter, and your nephew Jack " "Jack." 1 said. "is quite capable of behaving In such a disgraceful manner " “Yea.” she assented, almost cheerfully; "but I don’t think it was lack. At least.' she added with a bright smile. "1 want you to be a dear old — 1 mean, a good, kind-hearted person, and find out for me.” "It shall be done!” 1 cried, rising both to the occasion and to take my leave II It is one thing to make a promise in all the glow of a generous moment, and another thing to keep it In the cold, practical light of after-reasoning However, 1 did the best that I could. In the first place I wrote to Jack, who was then at Harvard, and. without divulging the source of my information, stated briefly what had come to my knowledge, and asked him if he could throw any light on the matter. It was some two or three days before 1 received his reply which was characteristically brief and ran: "Dearest Uncle: —I received your letter containing a vivid description of what you term the ’shameful outrage ’ Now, I don’t mind confessing to you that I am the culprit, because you have been young yourself (once), and know that the path of youth is strewn, etc Besides, there were extenuating circumstances in this case Like the decent old sort you are, make it right for me with the girl, and for ever earn the gratitude of, Your affectionate nephew. Jack Owen. "P B—l8 —I don’t know that I wouldn't do it again if I got the chance.” I folded the letter and sat tn my armchair, staring savagely at the Are. Here had I got myself Into no end of a mess., ah'd most probably lost two good friends, at least, not to mention making myself utterly ridiculous, over thia confounded business, and all the

time I might have guessed who was the real offender. I wished now that I had waited before casting sus upon the hbspltable captain an » Influential Mr. Porter, both of whom would doubtless cut me dead in the future. But, 'alag! when a man is j n my condition, he— Suddenly an idea occurred to me. n*. Miss Mainwarjpg flame r made my way up to titp dainty and -white shrine in yvHch Z.tty -received her most devoted-worslij > 3 “Ah,” she exclaimed, rti meet me, “I am glad you ha‘r v ’• "Not more so than I atn,” 1 . pressing her hand warmly. "Oh, heaps!” 1 she said a ’y. j ail just dying to hear the n ws. i. e you discovered anything?" “I have,” said I, tak.i a ■ h y the teatable. “I have disc? - v . erything ” She clapped her bands <1 ■ v "You dear old thing!” s h e j knew you would Who was "It was that misguide 1 v O s mine,” I announced gloor.ii For a moment 1 thou ht .- wa s ?oing to get up and da.:ce rc j room. Then suddenly s' t b , 9 grave, and the light died out of her eyes. Oh!" she remarked, “it was Jack was it?" ‘ ’ "Yes.' said 1, "it was Jack" She poured out a eun of ' a and passed it to me, keeping her eyes fixed on the tea-eisy the while. Then we talked about other matters until It was time for me to go. Good-bye.” she said; "and thank you foi taking so much troub e ” "It was no trouble.” I assured her One must do the polite thing, y O J know, at any cost. I can only hope," 1 continued, “that in time you win be able to forgive my nephew for such an act of gross impertinence.” "Ah, yes!” she answered warmly, “f think—yes. I am really very giad it was Jack.” “Oh!” 1 ejaculated sharply. "Rather than one of the others," she concluded hastily. IV. I wandered disconsolately in a lessfrequented part of the avenue trying to think things out. It was now close upon a month since my last tete-a tete with Kitty, and during that time I had never once been able to catch her alone. Indeed, on most of the occasions when I called she was out, a piece of bad luck I had not hitherto been accustomed to; and when I did find her In. she was either surrounded by friends, or engaged in elaborate , sewing operations which necessitated ; the constant attendance of her maid. ; Once or twice, too. I caught sight of Master Jack in town when by the I calendar he ought to have been pursu- ■ ing his studies, and the circumstance, I coupled with his ob >us anxiety to avoid me, filled my m nd with a vague foreboding. "What the deuce does it mean?" I asked invself. as 1 strode along with eves thoughtfully bent upon the ground regardless alike of i assers-by and the people who would have passed by had 1 not collided v th them. I cannoned off an et nt dign'tary | of the church, and ran all tilt against J a b tartly dressed c ’e who were iod ing round the e al back. (I tould only see the b vy edging of ’■ '!< nty skirt —and not —above a still daintier ankle a the butoms ?f a pair of immacula creased troupers I My murmure egy was cut ■xeessively short as s .1 my hat ’.nd my eyes at the s." • e it was ack and Kitty, 100 ry s i c and i > and no little p 1 with themh? What!” 1 gasped, taken sotne'i aback. Kitty's smile was as the wine of ?o-to in its Intoxicating s vee « vs. ‘Oh." she cried, "it is Mr WalkT! 1 * Tt la," said I, frowning at her levity. I was feeling in no particularly light mood myself just then pouted and turned to her companion. "Don't you think. Jack," she said, "you ought to tell your uncle about-— about it?" "Certainly," responded that young hopeful "You will, my dear uncle be delighted to learn that 1 have just obtained Mrs Mainwarlng's consent to my engagement with Kitty here." "Hum—ah—exceedingly delighted—pray accept my congratulations," I stammered, "Thanks!” said Jack. "I thought you would be pleased.” The young vagabond actually winked as he said this "Ah, yes—of course,” said I, with a futile attempt at dignity. “Kitty is a charming—that is. you will both be — er —very happy.” "We mean to be," he asserted stoutly "Don’t we, little woman?” "Yes," she whispered softly, pressing his arm with her daintily gloved hand Irony of ironies! I had boughthose gloves! "I'll look you up this evening at your club,” said Jack, making as if to move on. "Yes—do,” said I. They departed in a blustering gale of laughter, two young, handsome, P er " fectly mated creatures, and I — I jammed my hat firmly down upon my head, and walked away as if the love affairs of a mere boy and gif* could have no interest for a conflrmeff old bachelor of something and forty. Kitty and I are the best of frienda •till. She is Mrs. Owen now, and does not seem at all to regret haviag thrown herself away upon a worthless young scamp like She actually adoroo the fellow, and. has forgiven him his outrageous treatment of her, •ven thongh the only "extenuate sc** cutnataooe” was a bunch of mi»tfetoet But then, women are like that— ba®buga. yea, humbage. I call 'em!