Rensselaer Union, Volume 7, Number 13, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 17 December 1874 — A Letter From Santa Clans. [ARTICLE]

A Letter From Santa Clans.

What do you think I saw as I was going down street this morning, wrapped snugly in my fur-coat, and muffled up to my eyes to keep out the cold? Two little mites of boys, crouched up under the shelter of some rickety old steps that led into a wretched tenement-house. They were shivering with cold, barefoot, hungry, and big tears were rolling down their cheeks. Their mother was dead, and five minutes before their drunken father had kicked them out doors, and told them to go and hunt, up some breakfast if tliev wanted any. As 1 came near I heard one of them say, “ O Jimmy! it’s almost Christmas! How I wish old Santa Claus would come down our chimney* and bring us a big fire, and some shoes and stockings, and oceans and oceans of bread and milk.” “ Why, Bob, ain’t you a greeny now! There ain’t no Santa Claus; it’s all gammon.” Jimmy’s eyes flew wide open. “No Santa Claus!" “ No, it’s all stuff." Jimmy’s head went down like a flash, and he set bp such a perfect howl of disappointment it brought the tears to my own eyes. But I walked straight up to them and said: ? “You’re wrong, Jimmy, Santa is alive and well as ever. You just come along with me and see if. he isn’t!” Then I took the poor, shivering little things into the first warm, bright spot we could find and set a plate of smoking hot soup before each one, and it did my soul good to see them eat. When they had finished I soon put them where they will be kindly cared for and went on my way. But what an idea—no Santa Claus, hey! It is all stuff and gammon about my riding up and down and over people’s houses, and going down chimney to fill the children’s stockings. That story would do for the time when the chimney and fireplace-were half as big as the house, but for these days of narrow flues and air-tight stoves we couldn't think of such a things—And, beside, there are so many children now. I have, had to take in a great many partners or I could never carry bn the business as it should be

done. I have a great army of assistants, who enjoy filling the little red and white and blue and brown sto'ekings full to the brim alter the dear little ones who wear them are fast asleep in their beds. And I have another small army who help wonderfully in another department of the, work. They have warm, loving, tender hearts, and they go about among the poor and suffering ones of earth and report what they see to me, and soon after the very help and comfort which the poor souls needed most comes to them insome unaccountable way. Just take a peep into my note book, Mear children, and see how it reads: * , “ Poor old granny Griggs, not a child or friend to look alter her comfort; sick, lonely and poor. Dear little Molly Brown will run in Christmas morning and hiss her wrinkled cheek, brighten up the poor little room, make her a cup of tea and a bit of toast, and give her a pair of new spectacles, and a Bible with large, plain print.” “Jamie Martin, a little cripple, who has to lie on a hard bed all day long alone, while his mother goes out to wash, shall have a wonderful chair that will just fit his poor crooked back, so he can wheel himself up to the window and see what is going on in the world. And he shall have a nice child’s paper every week for a year.” “ Letty Gray, who works in the factory to support herself and little sister, shall have a great bundle of things, warm stockings and flannels, a new dress and shawl for each.” “ Mike Donovan, who got hurt in the mill, and is laid up for the winter, while his poor wife is trying to support the family, shall have a fifty-dollar greenback to help them along.” “ A minister’s family in a small parish‘away out West’ shall .have a wonderful Christmas-box that will make their hearts sing for joy.” ,

“ There will be a pair of chickens, a fat turkey or a can of oysters left at the door of many a parsonage. Many and many a poor widow will find a cord of wood or a ton of coal dumped down in her back yard on Christmas morning. Many and many a poor souTwho doesn’t know where to turn for work to earn his daily bread will find something to do that will keep the wolf from the door. Little girls that never had a doll before are going to have one now. Boys that never had a pop-gun or whistle will pop and whistle to their heart’s content this Christmas time.” There! you see it isn’t all bosh and gammon about Santa, after all. He is alive and well and busier than ever before. and he wants more help or else somebody may he forgotten. Will you go into partnership with me? The business pays well. Just sit down and put your thinking-cap on and see what you can do to help me. Think what you can do to make some poor, sad soul happier; how you can help some poor ohild to a Merry Christmas day. Look over your old toys and ( books, fix them up as nice as you can and give them to some poor mothers who cannot afford to buy new ones for their children. If there is nothing else you can do give a pleasant word, a kind smile, a little loving sympathy to those who need them, and you will he surprised to see how happy it will make them, and you too. —- If all the rich and happy ones of earth would only take hold of this blessed work in earnest joy and gladness, peace and good-will would fill every heart and home, and the angels would sing as never but once before: “Glory to God in the highest, peace on earth, good-will to men.” — Christian Union. —“ Pa, ” said Mrs. Spllkins, glancing up from a perusal of the thrilling pages of last year’s speeches on the Credit Mobilier, “ what does it mean to put your money ‘ where it will do the most good?’ ” “ Utilize, my dear, utilize,” replied her loving spouse, “that’s what it means. *“1 don’t neither!” screamed; Mrs. S., with tears of rage; “I never told one in my life, you heartless wretch !” and Spilkins just dodged in time to let a volume of “Congressional Debates” graze his os frontis and pass through a front window pane. A man who has been there says that no one but a person who has passed through it can imagine how surprised a husband feels to have his wife die and then return to life just as he is throwing himself on a grand funeral. —“ Corn bread?” said an Irish writer; “we haven’t got it; an’ isn’t it corn base ye mane?” m —lt is believed that California will during the year which will end with Dec. 31 fully 50,000 population. Anna S. Getsinger, of Honesdale, Pa., writes the following: “After suffering for nearly two years from neuralgia in the breast, passing up into the throat, face and head, I was entirely cured and restored to health by using Dr. L. Q. G. Wishart’s Pine Tree Tar Cordial. A protruding toe Is not a sightly thing, say nothing about health and comfort. SILVER TIPPED Shoes never wear out at the toe. For sale by all dealers.