Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 40, Number 30, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 20 December 1907 — WHEN SANTA CLAUS FORGETS. [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

WHEN SANTA CLAUS FORGETS.

IA little lame boy used to live in a house That Santa Claus passed by NThen he hurried through here on his journey last year, And I have often wondered why : Bor the little lame boy had no father, you know, And his face was so thin and so white That the saint, I should think, would have wanted to go To pay him a visit that night. When I looked at the gifts that old Santa had brought I was never so proud or so glad; But whenever I thought of the boy he

« forgot It somehow kept making me sad; For the little lame boy was a good little boy, And I couldn’t help wondering why,. If the ones that are best deserve more than the rest, Good Santa Claus passed him by. I took him some turkey, and cookies, and toys, And it made him so glad that he cried, And all, day I kept thinking of lame little ' boys, And felt kind of choky inside; But t dreamed the most beautiful dream little candy to the children on Christmas,” said the old man, but he didn’t discuss crops clear to town. About the middle of the afternoon Bob Evans hurried into the big dry goods store after numerous bundles. He was surprised to see old Farmer Pettigrew sitting at a counter near the front, while an obsequious clerk was holding up folds of gray silk. Bob was so pleased he stopped to in the selection, and then went on his way. was nearly dark when the two men met at the livery stable. Old Farmer Pettigrew was as excited as a boy. “Say, Bob, I bought ’er a cheer, too, and a gold comb, and candy, and I’m kind of ’shamed to give them to her. And I sent Minnie $lO, registered letter, you know.” Bob shook the old man’s hand. “I’m glad I came with you. I just wish I could see auntie when you give those things to her.” “I’ll tell you about it, Bob.” But he did not introduce the subject when Bob went over next week. The young man followed him out to the barn lot and asked him about the gifts. Old Farmer Pettighew looked at him long and solemnly, a sort of quiver about his mouth. “Well, when I laid ’em out Christmas mornin’ by her bed, I jest stepped out She didn’t come out, an’ I got skeered. I peeped ’in through the crack—an’— an’— she was on ’er knees by ’em, sobbin’. I didn’t calkllate it was goln’ to have no sech effect, Bob.” Bob’s eyes grew misty. “Well?” he said. “I went in then, an’ she riz up an’ klm to me’ an’ she said, ‘Pa,’ an* kissed me, for the furst time in ten years, Bob."

that night About a bright angel that came And sat on my bed, and was dressed all in white, And sang of a boy who was lame. The little lame boy .isn’t here any more, And I-think that up in the sky The Santa Claus there will always take care To not go passing him by; And all of the toys that a boy’s ever had Wouldn’t make me so glad as the thought That I made the poor little lame boy glad When Santa, somehow, forgot.