Bema Waa Bellefonte, Pa., December 24, 1915. Santa Claus’ Sweetheart. ce from page 2, Col. 6.] He went quickly up to the door, over | snow that had been tracked by the! passing of many feet. There were footprints everywhere—great marks of a man’s boot and the smaller ones of a woman's or a girl's shoe. The sight turned him a little giddy. Was this his goal—could his happy news be spoken here? He tried to shout, but his voice seemed frozen in his throat. He fell to trembling. He—he could not speak. He tried again, choking out a faint sound. There was no sign from the silent house that his call had | been heard—no stir, no movement of G&G Rusehs Si | its Empty, Staring Windows Chilled Shawe. | life. He flung himself against the door and battered it with his fists. The waiting seemed like eternity to him; then his hand sought the knob, turned it, and the door flew wide. He stared half dazed into the narrow pas- sageway. with the stairs climbing at one side; all the light seemed out in the world behina him; the place Chm, was dim and chill. [for a mo- ment he paused: I then his voice ~ Z / sounded through the silence. “Halloe, halloo! Is a little child missing here?” There was a cE quick sound of ; running feet overhead, an | opening door and a woman's scream. “Ua: ">, uncle, | have you"-- The cry went up from below: “Is a little child missing here?” Something darted down the stairs. One wouldn't have said it was any- thing human. so swift was the motion, yet swifter than the flying feet, and very piteously hu- man were the words that came from the mother’s heart: “Is—is—she—dead?” } “No; I tell you, no; she’s alive and well. She’s at Thornby’s logging, camp. Don't faint! She is all right. | She's safe, I tell you. Dox’t"— Shawe was only just in time to catch | the swaying form in his arms, and for | the moment, as he stood there, holding the unconscious woman, he was un- able to think what to do. It didn’t seem possible to him that the joy of his message could harm her. Perhaps he ought to have broken it more gently. But how could he? It had to be told. No, no; the joy couldn't harm her! A little air, a touch of snow on her temples, and she would be herself again. He lifted his burden and turn- ed to the open door. The clear light from without came searchingly in upon “Halloo, halloo! Is a little child miss- ' ing here?” ®@ Busalo “You,” she said softly; “you—Hum- | ly. { really you? i you were angry—we were both angry, ' was the real fault! | story! | the other side of the world and from ! | place to place—wanderers on the face | ;.of the globe—but I got home at last, | very i child. , here, and I felt he would help Betty - and me in our treubles. came ' another, ‘tomorrow — His phrey?” \ the still face on his breast, showing its ; pinched lines of distress and the rav-! ages the tears had made in its fair-| ness. He started at the sight and ut-! tered a sharp exclamation. The keen air revived her; she stirred “I thought she was a dear little tot.” “Why, Humphrey, she’s the very dear- est, the sweetest, the most precious, the”— i He stopped the loving catalogue with a trifie with a low moan; a minute 2 Kiss: later her eyelids fluttered, and her! words came disjointedly in little sop- bing breaths: i “Safe, my precious, safe—thank God; ; oh, thank™- The cold whipped a tinge ' of color into her lips, her eyes opened | wide. and she stared up into Shawe’s face. A look of bewilderment sudden- ly clouded their gaze. “You,” she said softly; “you—Hum- ! phrey ?” i She did not move from his arm, but’ very slowly she lifted her hand and touched him wonderingly, her fingers | lingering over his coat and creeping | up and up to his cheek. “You, Humphrey — Something like a sob broke from him. “Elizabeth!” he cried. “I don’t understand,’ she said weak- “It was so very long ago—oh, is it I—I—thought you would" never come back—so long ago—and but I was the one to blame” — “No, no. no,” he interrupted; *‘mine I knew that when it was too late. but I couldn't let you know. Before we could make our port the ship was wrecked—oh, it's a sad Most of the crew were lost, but the few of us who were saved lived somehow on that desolate little island waiting, hoping, fearing, through those | | interminable months before the rescue | Then we were carried off to came. | and—there was no home for me—you had gone away. you and baby. They couldn't tell me where, but I searched for you, my girl; I searched for you. I wouldn't give up looking—I meant to | find you—and it was so useless” — She clung closer to him. stroking his quivering face with gentle fingers. “I thought you never meant to come back,” she whispered. “and 1 wanted to beg you to come. 1 wanted to tell you 1 was really the most to blame, but IT didn’t know where to send a let- ter. I had to keep still. Oh, I waited so patiently, and every day was a year! Then when you didn't come ! couldn't bear the neighbors’ pity. It— it hurt! So I stole away one night with Betty. We went to a big city where no one knew us, and we were poor. 1 didn’t mind much for myself, only for baby. It was so hard to find work, I—I almost gave up. Then 1 remembered Uncle Steven, my mother’s half brother, who used to be with us a good deal when I was a I knew he was all alone out And he was so good: he is so good! He didn’t | even wait to answer my letter. He, to find us instead. and he] brought us back to share his home : with him. That was three years ago. | But you—how is it you are here?” | “It’s a long story, Bess, darling. I've knocked around everywhere. I hadn't; the heart to settle to anything, you know—hunting, trapping, whatever of- fered. I'd try first one thing and then Something made me come over here. I don’t know what it was. I simply had to come. I was on my way to the Northwest and passed |! through Wistar three weeks ago, never dreaming you were so near; then 1 went on to the logging camp and stop- ped there for a time, but I'd made al! my plans to leave voice trembled. and he rested his faceagainst hers. “Oh,” he went on brokenly, “I might have miss- ed yeu altogeth- er. We might never have met again —never—if it hadn’t been for Santa Claus, sweetheart” — She looked up curiously, inter- rupting him with a quick exciama- tion, and bit by bit the account of the little child’s arrival at the lum- ber camp was told. “But didn’t you know right away who she was?" the mother asked jeal- ously when he paused. “Dear, 1 didn’t. She was such a baby when I left—scarcely two years old, you remember. There was a like- ness, though. to you that troubled me, but I told myself 1 was fanciful. I've seen that likeness so many times. It has been uppermost in my mind, going with me everywhere, eluding me every- where. And her name was different— Hammond.” “That’s uncle’s name. He would have her called so. Then you came all that way not knowing who she was nor for my sake?” “Yes,” he answered honestly. “I only thought of the sorrow in the stricken household. I didn’t think of you at all. And yet it was for your sake too. Ah, Bess, dear, my heart has been very tender for all mothers since I left you to fend for the little ome alone. I can never make up for that”— “Hush,” she interposed; “you have made up! Even if I'd been somebody else and Betty somebody else it would have atoned and doubly atoned for you to do what you have done.” She laughed unsteadily, she was so happy that her words had become hopelessly tangled. ‘You know what 1 mean,” she finished. “I know,” he smiled back. x “But you ought to have recognized “Pll stay till the end, please God.” Betty at once. There was no excuse.” | “You'll let me stay and find that out for myself, won't you?’ he asked hum- bly. . . She clung to him, trembling all over, her face quite drawn and white. “It won’t take long. Oh, you must stay longer than that!” “I'll stay till the end, please God,” he said very solemnly. | As they stood together, faintly from! the distance there came the sound | of bells. The spirit of the blessed season filled the air—the cheer, the peace, the good will. North, south. the sound of bells: the spirit of the blessed season filled the air—the cheer. the peace. the good will. North, south. east, west, along the happy roads that | lead around the world, the message ran. Oh, very beautiful are the roads of the world. but surely the most beau- tiful of them all is little Forgiveness ! lane that winds through tangles and briars and over stony and waste places, | from heart to heart and climbs at last up to the very gates of heaven! isi Moa aaa Chapter 1%. Christmas Day. HE day was several hours older | when Humphrey and Elizabeth Shawe started for Thornby’s ! camp. Before that time, how- | | ever, poor Uncle Steven, weary and disheartened and looking suddenly like an old. old man. had returned from his futile search in and around Wistar, ac- | A Young Woman With a Radiantly Happy Face Ran Toward Them. companied by a number of the inhab- | itants of the little town who were! cage to lend what aid they could, al- though they realized how unavailing: their efforts must prove. ; They had expected to find the house | wrapped in gloom, but instead, as they | $s opped at its door, a young woman | i with a radiantly happy face ran to- ward them, crying out the joyful news. Then a mighty shout went up from the sleighs. No one knew who start- ed it, but it grew and grew until it | seemed to reach the sky, and when it died away—it was a long while before | that happened, because it was always breaking out again—there was a great | blowing of noses and clearing of throats, as if an epidemic of influenza | was raging among them all. As soon as quiet was restored every one went within doors to find Shawe, who was resting under the strictest orders not | to move and who was allowed to re- | main quiet no longer. There would b i ample time on another day to get over | his fatigue. For the present he had tc submit to being made much of. Such 3’ shaking of hands as took place then— Uncle Steven started it—and such hearty wishes as were poured forth! It wasn’t merry Christmas just once, but it was merry. mer- ry Christmas over and over again until’ the house rocked with the noise. And there were no reproaches in word or thought about that sad past, with its mistakes and misunderstand- ings. It was all blotted out, just as thé snow stretched its sparkling white- ness over the earth, hiding many am ugly spot, se the beau- tiful mantle of 3 charity lay close Over Again, over what had been. Finally, at Shawe’s insistence, the sleigh was made ready—not Uncle Steven’s shab- by cutter, but the roomier one of the most important citizen of Wistar, who had been among the first to offer his services to find the little child. It was heaped high with robes from the other sleighs until its gorgeousness and com- fort were something to wonder at, and four horses were harnessed to it. Then the best driver climbed up in front with much pride, and as soon as the husband and wife had taken their places behind him he cracked his whip briskly in a hurry to be gone. Again the air was rent with cheers, and amid the tumult the horses sprang for- ward. Ah, they were very different from sober old Danny and Whitefoot! They fairly flew over the road that i | { | | | | | It Was Merry, Merry ChristmasOver and ; had seen the jolly progress of Santa Claus and his little sweetheart the previous day and that solemn faring southward through the night of the messenger bearing his good tidings. The bells rang out merrily--the gayest, gladdest tune—and the spirits of the sky, the plains, the woods, laughed back in an ecstacy of delight, echoing the happiness everywhere. As far as eye could reach the snow twinkled and shone as if with rapture that Christ- mas day. There was hardly any speech among the travelers, but joy sat very close to their hearts, and no one objected to the silence. At last the logging camp was reach- ed, and as the horses drew up with a great shaking of their bells the door of the shanty flew open and a body of men trooped out to greet the newcom- ers. They had all heard of Shawe’s er- rand from old Jerome—all but the child, who was kept in ignorance, because no one knew what its result would be— and at sight of their former comrade a shout of welcome—and something more, something deeper—burst from them, to be echoed again and again. Under cover of the happy sounds Shawe, too moved for any words, jumped from the sleigh and turned to help his wife. but she scarcely touch- ed his hand. springing past him as if she were winged. Only too well the men knew who the shining eyed wo- man was, yet they had no greeting for her. The exultation in her face si- lenced them all. They opened a way speedily for her to pass through and then turned by common accord to look at the sight that would meet her, as if they could see with her eyes! And yet the picture was an unforgettable one to them. They saw the rude familiar room, beautiful as it had never been until the previous night, with the huge fire blazing at one side and on the hearth old Jerome bending down to the child, who, at the clatter without, had risen from her play. the skirt of her gown gathered up over a store of her new treasures as she turned wonderingly toward the door. The men, still look- ing, saw the little hand relax its hold hastily, so that the precious hoard fell to the floor unheeded—forgotten. The small face changed from bright to brighter, to brightest—they had not be- lieved {hat possible—and then they | saw noth'ng but two figures running toward ca Dh other and meeting in a | close embrace, and they heard the cries uttered in shaking voices “Muvver!” “Dear; my little own!” mingled and lose themselves in breaking sobs and a low peal of rippling laughter. “I swan thet hick’ry makes the ’tarnallest smoke!” Jerome muttered a moment later. “It do beat all”’—he stopped, choking over the words—*it do beat all,” he said again, blinking around with misty eyes. Some one laughed unsteadily, and some one else coughed; then a third person sneezed, and so the charm was broken. The mother raised her head and gazed over the little shoulder at [Continued on page 7, Col. 1.] -—Put your ad. in the WATCHMAN. Hood’s Sarsaparilla. Do You Suffer From Backache? When your kidneys are weak and torpid they do not properly perform their functions; your back aches and you do | not feel like doing much of anything. You are likely to be despondent and to borrow trouble, just as if you hadn't enough already. Don’t be a victim any longer. The old reliable medicine, Hood’s Sar- saparilla, gives strength and tone to the kidneys and builds up the whole system. Hood's Sarsaparilla isa peculiar com- bination of roots, barks and herbs. No other medicine acts like it, because no other medicine has the same formula or ingredients. Accept no substitute, but insists on having Hood's, and get it today. — Meat Market. (Get the Best Meats. You save nothing by buyin or gristly meats. Iuse only LARGEST AND FATTEST CATTLE and supply my customers with the fresh- est, choicest, blood and muscle mak- ing Steaks and Roasts. My prices are nu higher than poorer meats are elsewherg. I always have — DRESSED POULTRY — Game in season, and any kinds of good meats you want. TRY MY SHOP. P. L. BEEZER, 34-34-1y. Bellefonte, Pa = ter Little Hotel Wilmot. The Little Hotel Wilmot "IN PENN SQUARE One minute from the Penna Ry. Station PHILADELPHIA We have quite a few customers from Belle- fonte, We can take care of some more. They'll like us. A good room for $1. If you bring your wife, $2. Hot and cold running water in every room The Ryerson W. Jennings Co. 59-46 poor, thin High Street. —— Fine Job Printing. FINE jOB PRINTING 0——A SPECIALTY—o0 AT THE WATCHMAN OFFICE. f f, SE hy I BOOK WORK, that we can not do in the most satis- factory manner, and at Prices consist- ent with of work. ‘Call on or communicate with this office’ . ——— Dry Goods, Etc. _— — a i a. SR TO sa LYON & COMPANY. December Reduction Sale of All Wearing Apparel. Coats, Suits, Corduroy and Serge Skirts, Dresses, Shirt Waists. Owing to the mild weather we begin A BIG REDUCTION SALE on all Ready-to-Wear—this means a whole season’s wear—at a big saving. $35 Plush and Persian Lamb 30 6 €¢ cé 20 6 é¢ 6 ind 18 €¢ cc [4 Coats $25.00 #¢ 20.00 4 15.00 12.50 cé 6 Coat Suits from $9.00 to $22.50; real values $12.50 to $35.00. Plaid Coats, Scotch Cloth, English Mixtures and Cor- duroy Coats, worth $12 to $40, now $8.00 to $25.00. Misses’ and Children’s Coats from $2.50 upward. Ladies’ Skirts, all wool, in full flare and plaited $2.50 up. Christmas Shopping Days are Few. CHRISTMAS SUGGESTIONS . Furs for ladies and children. Mink, Pointed Fox, Marmot, White Fox, Tiger and Raccoon sets. Mellon, barrel and pillow shape Muffs. A big line of single Muffs. Shirt Waists in Georgette Crepe, Plaids, Crepe de Chine and Wash- able Silks in all the new colors. Holiday Silk Hose for men, wo- men and children. New Hand Bags are now ready for your inspection. Handkerchiefs. We never had such a large assortment in Crepe de Chine and hand embroidered. Men’s fine Linen Handkerchiefs. ors in the flowered silks. Neckwear. Lace and Organdie Collar and Cuff sets. Feather and Ribbon Ruffs. Gloves. Kid, Suede and Wool Gloves for men, women and chil- dren. Ivory Toilet and Manicure Sets. Also Infants’ Sets. Holiday Ribbons. Our Ribbon department is filled with fancy and all the new Ribbons. : Humidor Table Linens and Nap- kins. Table Linens and Napkins to match; will make a handsome and desirable present. 72in.Table Linen from $1 to $2.75 Napkins in dinner and tea sizes, from $1 to $8.50 per dozen. This means the best quality at the old prices without the war tariff. We extend a cordial invitation to all to see our FINE HOLIDAY DISPLAY. Kimona Silks. All the new col- Lyon & Co. .... Bellefonte Groceries. - Groceries. Christmas is WE Our own make. vance in cost. reasonable prices. Bush House Block, - - 57-1 Coming Soon! ARE expecting a brisk trade in our line and are making ample preparation to take care of all the business that may come our way. To any one who has not been coming to us for their supplies, we suggest they look the matter up. You will find it to your advantage to do so. MINCE MEAT. We use the full proportion of choice lean beef and the best grade of all other materials, regardless of the ad- But we have not raised our price. tively the finest mince meat you can get, and only 15c. per pound. Try it and you will be highly pleased. California and Florida Oranges, all sizes, fine sweet fruit, and at Grapefruit, Lemons, White Almeria Grapes —fancy fruit; Cranberries and Sweet Potatoes. Fancy Comb Honey, Pure Maple Syrup, Fancy Table Raisins, Extra Fancy Wisconsin Cheese. We fill our customers’ orders for Fancy Oysters, taken from the shell just as ordered, at soc. for a quart of solid oysters. - ered with other goods. We are prepared to supply all your wants and will be pleased to serve you. SECHLER & COMPANY, This is posi- Deliv- Bellefonte, Pa. The First National Bank. Te First National Bank | of Bellefonte, Wishes One and All A Merry Christmas and a Prosperous and Happy New Year
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