Richmond Palladium (Daily), Volume 37, Number 30, 9 December 1911 — Page 15

THE RICHMOND PALLADIUM AND SUX-TELEGRAM, SATURDAY DECE3IBER 9, 1911.

PAGE THREE.

f - ,r-"'.' - ---gw

every appeal. Plan after plan he pon-j a lock of soft gold hair, tied wita a

The Intervention of Santa Claus

Copyright 1111 tT T. J- Robinson.

NB by one the crimson cran

berries slipped along the

waxed black thread upon which old man Harper's

knotty fingers were stringing

them. Presently he held up

proudly the end of the polished trand of lorries, that curled In bright circles about his chair in its snug harbor there behind the kitchen stove. "Reckon thcy'a purty nigh enough to make a right smart showln' on the little scalawag's tree, what say, Letltlarr "Well, Pa, I declare I b'lleve you're get tin' lazy," snapped the thin, brisk woman who was standing before the blurry mirror above the sink, though corning to look into as she tied a brown fascinator beneath her chin. In an emphatic Gordlan-kuot. "You Just go ahead and string every last cranberry In that there dish-pan. I'm goln' to run over to Mis' Wallace's for her aplce cake recelnt. If Tommy comes In tell him he's got to shovel the front walk n In before dark. They's quite a flurry outside. An' see If you can remember to throw on a handful of coal after awhile, Pa. You're that forgetful you're li'ble to set hero an let the fire go plumb out" "I'll try not to fergir, Letltlar. An, an' you know I'd Just as lief as not string the berries for " The gust of wind from the quickly opened and closed door quite extinguished the quavering voice of the old man. Patiently he continued to pierce the tranberrles with the great darning neeflle, first holding it close to the frosty n-indow to re-thread it by the waning tight. It might have been a rosary, (hat scarlet strand, each berry a thrlstmas time of the years that had latsed. O, those other Christmas times (rhen the old house had been filled with (be toddling little ones and the merry oung ones and their smiling elders!' fcvery year had thinned the Christmas-' omlog numbers. Fred's folks bad; tone out west; Clara and her family prere In Florida ; poor George was dead Ind the children and their mother too boor to make the annual trip; Anrew, who knew what had become of Andrew, a runaway at eighteen, n ne'er-lo-well always, a convict, they had heard, at twenty. J Thero would be only the three of them to sit down this year to Letltia's berfect turkey, crisply brown and burst-j

bg. as though by the prodigious bulge it its stuffing to equal the great girth it the birds of former days. Had it pot been for Tommy, one of George's boys, whom Letltla, as a matter ot

ptern duty, was raising, for the first' klme In a quarter of a centnry there irould have been no Christmas tree In fie plant-filled bay-window In the parr. But It should never be said that child of George's had not received fell the benefits of a Christian borne, from the catechism to Christmas trees. there it stood In state with Its battered trinkets and Its tarnlabed tinsel paubles, lacking only the gay festoons ff berries that the old man was fashonlng In the deepening dusk of the bulet kitchen. As be held p his needle again to the light, eyes squinted nearly shut, it teemed to him suddenly that a face was eerlng Into the room fhroogh a square bf the kitchen window. But the room had been so peopled with the memories that bad crowded upon him, he thought It most be ono of the dream faces that be had conjured up. In a moment he heard the crunch of jrootsteps on the snow In the yard. Lejtltla back so soon! And he had forgotten to put the coal on the firethe hand with which he reached for the novel on Its nail fell back again to'

grasp the arm of his chair, In trembling excitement. For the kitchen door had opened aud closed and there before him, haggard and thinly clad stood a man whom he knew at once, by the fling of bis bead and the flash of his eyes, to be Letitla's boy, Andrew. "You don't need to get excited," he said sullenly. "I know I ain't welcome round here, an I ain't goln to stay long. Thought I'd Just take a look at the old place, as I was passln' through. I see they ain't been many Improvements." Ills dark eyes roved quickly about the room, rested for a moment on the old rocker near the window, whose arms bore the whittled scars of his first Jack knife, on the wood box where he had liked to hide, on the red table cloth the white bird cage "Andrew," the thin old voice was tremulous, "Andrew, I'm mighty glad to set eye on you again, Sonny." "Grand-dad!" It was the intimate name of the days when the old man and the lilttle boy had been chummy old cronies. "But of course you don't know about me," the man finished sharply. "I know you ben out In the world battlln' with temptations. Sonny. Yon knocked some of 'em down, an then agin a few of 'em, they got their lnnin's too. But you ain't the kind of feller to let 'em keep you under, not If

you're anythin like the plucky little

rascal I useter dandle on my knee. It's powerful lonesome to home, nowadays. I wish you'd come back. Sonny, an' stay with your Ma an' me " "My mother! She told me I needn't never darken her doors again. She'd turn me out without a word. She ain't never had no love for me, you know

th. come back !"

His daughter's face rose before him, with its relentless lips and its unflinching eyes. "I dunno, Sonify, I dunno," admitted the old man sadly, '"ineso good women is awful hard on us backsliders, sometimes. Now, p'raps If I could reason with Letltlar "Grand-dad," he hurled It out with savago intensity, "I'm sick of it I want to cut It all, on the square. I walked ten miles today Just to get a look at the old place. I want to be white, and decent But if a feller's mother Say, on the level, do you think she'd ever " The old man had raised a silencing band. They both heard the creak of the snow beneath brisk, approaching footfalls. "It's your Ma, Andrew. Quick, now. You leg it up to the attic, while I have a little talk with Letltlar. I'll bring her round, Sonny, don't you be afeard. 'Member the way? ooft, now." At first the man hesitated. Then reflecting that he had no place to sleep that night, and that he would rather get away without having to bear again his mother's recriminations, he crept quietly up the familiar stairs to the attic. "Just as I expected, Pa!" The fascinator was scarcely hung up behind the door before Letltla Dale was filling up the coal stove. "Not a piece of coal ben put on this fire low's It can be. It seems like you can't depend 6n nobody, anymore." "Well, it ain't out, anyhow, Letitiar. I'm sorry 'bout fergittin'. But I guess I got to thinkin' 'bout the old days. Old days when Fred was hocia an' Clara, an' the kids an' And " "Sou might better a ben tendin' to

the fire than dreamin' and wool-gather-in', Pa." With an energetic clatter that was a rebuke to such shiftlessness she set to peeling the potatoes for supper. "Got to thinkin'," went on the old man, undaunted, "'bout how quiet an' lonesome-like It seems this Christmas. Got to wishin some of the folks could come home. An' I got to wonderin', Letltlar, where Andrew was, anyhow. I wlsht the boy would come back home agin, don't don't yon, Letitiar?" The woman stiffened, never pausing in her skillful peeling of the potatoes. "Pa, I've told you that Andrew Dale ain't no longer a son of mine. He brung disgrace on the name an' sorrow to bis father an' mother. I don't never want to see him again." "But s'pose the boy wanted to brace up to " "Let him do It then. Time enough to talk when be does. It ain't in him. I don't know what I ever done to deserve such an affliction. But It's the Lord's will an' I guess I can bear up under it." "But if maybe, we could sort o help him, you know, Letitiar, chirk him op an' all that," the old man pleaded. "I wish you'd blow the born out the front door for Tommy, Pa. He won't any more'n get his chores done before supper, as it is." Several times during the long Christmas Eve the old man attempted to talk to his daughter about her son, only to be met with stony silence. Finally she burst out impatiently, "For the land's sakes, what's got Into you, Pa? I won't hear another word about Andrew. He's like he was dead to me, I tell you. Tommy, you ought to ben to bed a half hour ago, if 'tis Christmas

Eve. Yonr Grandfather'H be the Win. in' of yon. Run along, now. Good night Good night Pa. Be sure to have that extra quilt over you." After he had paid his nightly visit to Tommy's little bed, telling blm, over again, the old story of Dancer and Prancer and Vixen that he bad told to so many wide-eyed grand-children, the old man waited In his bedroom until he heard Letltla breathing, deep and regular. Then In his stocking feet he mounted the back stairs, very aoiuy, to the attic. Andrew had emerged from behind a pile of trunks and boxe3 where he had plied up some old quilts and clothes that formed a bed infinitely superior to the ones to which he was accustomed. "I'm goln' down to the kitchen an bring you up a bite to eat Sonny. Just make yourself to home" "Have you said anything to Mother how does she what does she " "I done my best son. These women folks is purty stubborn, sometimes, you know. But I'll fetch her yet I'll fetch her. You take it easy, now. I'll have some vittles op here quick as I can." "You're a good old scout, Grand-dad. But I'll be goln' on, bright an' early in the mornln'. It ain't any use." Old man Harper scarcely slept at all that strange Christmas Eve and clear, cold Christmas morning. He prayed earnestly that the way be shown him to soften the heart of the mother so that her son might not go away, unforgiven, on Christmas Day. He wondered If it would have been better for them to meet at once. Perhaps if she had been taken unawares Now that she was, In a way prepared, she would no doubt be able to steel herself to

dered and rejected.

1 Early In the morning, before Tommy I was stirring, he tip-toed op to the attic ; again, determined to get Andrew's 1 promise that he would not slip away

that day. It was obtained with less trouble than he had expected because the man was worn out and ill from the exposure of the night before. "I'll lay here and get set up a bit. Grand-dad. But no more "bout seeln' Mother. I tell you it ain't any use." "Now, Sonny, I ain't a givin' up that

! easy. Providence '11 intervene sure's you're a foot high!" Up to four o'clock that afternoon, however. Providence had given no evidence of concerning herself in the afj fairs of the divided family under the

old roof-tree. Letltla Dale sat in the parlor reading "Paths to Glory," the gift of the minister, as befitted the Christmas day. In the kitchen Tommy was playing with a building game on the floor near old man Harper's chair. "Aw, gee. I'm sick o' this old game!" announced Tommy. "Wisht they was somep'n 'citing to do. Wisnt I had a Injun suit like Herbie's. Wish I could dress up like a pirut or eomop'n. Sa-ay, Grandfather. I seen a old Santa Claus suit hanging up in the attic yesterday! Aunt Let said soinebouy made believe like he was Santa Claus once. Guess I'll drees up an go over to Herbie's ! Injun suits ain't so much. Hub?" Then it was that Providence tapped the old man on the forehead.

"Tommv. come here. That's a fine

idee of yourn. Now. I tell you what you do. You dress all np put on the

beard an' everythln', an pertend you're Santa Claus, sure enough. Right near

where that red coat is hangin' you'll see a old valise. In it they's a box

that'd make the best Christinas present

for your Aunt Let that she ever got,

You take that box, an' before you go over to Herbie's you Just run into the

parlor, pertendlng like you're really

Santa Claus, all the time, an' tell her

you got a Christmas present for her. Then run out auk'k, an' my! she'll

be that s'prised an' wonderin !"

Tommy needed no urging. The role

of Santa Claus appealed to him very strongly. In a moment his grandfather heard him moving about as quietly as possible in the attic, so that his aunt's sharp ears might not hear him.

He was quite sure that the child would not discover Andrew, hidden as he was behind the pile of trunks, and he was certain Andrew would not disclose himself. It was a strange chance that bad led him to open the old valise that morning. He had thought that if Andrew were determined upon going away at once, he would smuggle a coat and some underwear and what food he could, up to the attic for him to take away with him. When he opened the old valise, which he remembered had once been Andrew's, to see if It were empty so that he might put the things into It, if need be, he saw within it a crudely fashioned wooden box, with rusty binges and broken clasp, upon the top of which was ornately, if irregularly, carved "Mother. Dec. 25, 1872." In the box was a baby's little red shoe, toe kicked out, tassle thin and tattered :

blue ribbon; a little woolen mitten;

a sling shot some marbles and a couple of slate pencils, besides several tintypes.

The box he recognised as one which

he had helped Andrew to make for bis mother years ago, when bis little fingers were awkward, bat aspiring. For years, no doubt It had lain there, forgotten receptacles of the babyhood me

mentoes of a wayward boy. He had thought of taking the box to Letltla then, but he knew that she would fight against the memories that It held, too proud to let him see If there was avulnerable spot in her grim armor of determination. In a few moments Tommy bounded into the kitchen, long red coat trailing; white beard askew ber bis chin,' and a pointed red cap pulled down to his ears. "Ain't It a peach, Grand'her Ain't I the real thing? Say, what's la; this old box, anyhow? I don't blleveAunt Let '11 give a cent for that. "Never mind, Tommy. Yon justgive It to her don't say nothin' an'' then scoot! Mind now! An the Lord' go with you!" murmured the old man; fervently. He heard the boy open the parlor: door. Then he heard the front door slam, and saw the grotesque Ittt red figure dash across the snowy yard. For perhaps twenty minutes he' waited. Then ever so softly, ever so carefully, he slipped into the hall, and looked Into the mirror of the hall tree that was opposite the parlor door.' He could see Letltla sitting in a rocker in the front window, "raths of Glory" had fallen to the floor. Upon her lap the wooden box with iae rusty hinges lay pen. The tears were coursing down her quivering cheeks, as she pressed to her lips a little red shoe, with the toe kicked out and a tiny woolen mitten. "My boy my boy! My little boy! Where are you now? O, where are you now?" he heard her murmur. As quickly as his old legs would carry him he hurried into the kitchen and up the attic stairs. "Come, Sonny! Come! Providence has intervened ! Come with me ! ' Andrew followed him, tottering, wondering. The old man pushed blm gently

through the open parlor door, and

started back again for his chair behind the stove in the kitchen. There was a sound like the falling of a wooden box to the floor, and h scattering of marbles; the voice of Letltla "My boy Andrew i" followed by Andrew's dazed, happy "Mother !" "I thought it was Providence," remarked old man Harper to Tommy who bolted in the kitchen a few minutes later," but I guess 'twas you that done it, Mr. Santa Claus, after all, you little scalawag!" "Pa," called Mrs. Dale from the parlor, "put on the tea kettle right away. This boy's got to have a good hot iemoncde and go right straight to bed this minute. I never seen nothing like the careless way he's dressed. It's the greatest wonder in the world he ain't down flat with pneumony J"

Enemies of the Oyster. Thousands of oysters perish in the ea by the attacks of a strange enmy called cllona. a kind of sponge, vnicu borrows Into and gradually destroys the sheila, causing them to fall to pieces. From 6,757,372 In 1900 the number of farms In taJa country grew to 6,340,187, an increase of 602,985. or 10.5 per cent., the lowest rata of increase

vn.il ..iva

to

Each year people are becoming more conservative in the kind of presents they buy for Christmas they are buying useful presents and practical

presents, and who could think of anything more useful than a dainty pair of House Slippers, with all the comfort of an old-time fireside? Sugggestions Which ShouHd Interest Qhristmas Shoppers

SLIPPERS for MEN New Cavilier, black and tan.. $2.50 Everettes and Operas $1.25 to $1.75 Romeos $1.50 to $2.00 Felt Slippers 50c to $1.25 Carpet Slippers 50c

SLIPPERS for LADIES Black Kid Cavalier $3.00 Fancy Boudoir Slipper in Black, Red and Brown Suede $2.00 Blue Satin $2.00 Felt Slippers, Fancy and Plain $1.00 and $1.75

SLIPPERS AND SHOES FOR CHILDREN Misses Slippers 90c and $1.00 Child's Slippers 70c and 75c Red Goose Shoes ... $1.75 to $3.00

Priced According to Size and Style.

OUR SLIPPER STOCK Is complete.

Ladies' Evening Slippers $2.50 to $4.00 Felt Slippers $1.00 to $1.75 Make your friend happy with a pair of Teeples Slippers.

SHOES ARE ALWAYS ACCEPTABLE Buy a pair. If they don't fit we will exchange after Christmas.

SLIPPERS FOR BOYS Fancy Operas $1.00 "Armor Clad" Shoes for Boys; Made like Father's for Style; like Iron for Wear.

Our Variety Is Largest Our Prices Are Lowest Make Selections Now We Will Hold Them Until Christinas. Be Sure to See Our Display Before You Buy.

718

MAIM

Our "Red Goose" Drawing Contest is. in fall blast; received over 300 drawings to date; we give a souvenir to each child who makes a drawing. Encourage the children in this contact; it costs nothing to enter; you are ,not compelled to buy

in order to enter.