" jul« W *
;••• j*. J
IcV I EM through the
.i»A# leafless forest
a V\f The w " d wUld *
* • "SBf rudely sweep;
When snow is on the meadow,
Where the violets lie asleep:
When outward, drifting, drifting^
The Old Year goea forlorn,
In the mystic hour of midnight
The glad New Year is born.
l.ast night I watched in sadness.
The passing of the year,
For It Viore from me a record
That cost me many a tear.
But a gentle voice has whispered
That the past I must forget;
Nor waste this precious season
In useless, vain regret.
O! the coming of the New Year
Fills my soul with thoughts sublime.
Precious seem the golden moments
Onward borne by fleeting time;
And a spirit stirs within me.
Urging me to nobler strife,
With an earnest, brave endeavor,
For a brighter, better life.
And with grateful heart and lowly,
I thank the Power Supreme,
Who extends my days in mercy
That the past 1 may redeem;
For ills loving hand that keeps me,
For His voice that speaks to me,
For the opening of the New Year—
Though its elose I may not see.
—Oracla Southworth, In Western Itural.
KMONS? Well!
J" whtre's your
C nioiu, y f° r e,n
Abel Tappan
spoke sha.r p1 y
'I he thin, wizened little face across the
counter took on an anxious look.
"Mother, she couldn't send the
money. She says if you'll please to
charge—"
"Charge!—charge! I'm siek o' that
tune, you can tell your ma. You can
skipper right home and tell her now.
Wheu she wants lemons 1 cnlc'late she's
got to pay for 'em same as other folks
<loes."
Little Jot McKie's clumsy shoes
b.uffled half way to the door, 'hen
•shuttled resolutely back to the counter
again.
"They're for Love, you know."he
said. courageously. "An' Ixtve's sick.
She's hurt in her back, an' she says the
water don't taste good. She's set on
having some lemonade. An' mother
id.vs if you'll trust her, Mister Tap-
Da n—"
"Ain't I trusted her since 'way back
most to Hood time, I'd like to know?
Ain't her page in my ledger chock full
»' Hustings this minute? When she's
settled that page hp. mebbe I'll begin
< ver again a trusting her —mebbe so.
Hut not till; so you needn't stand there
waiting for lemons. Might's well go
r'.ght along home, sonny."'
Hut Love's pinched, white little face <
1 leaded with Jot. and Love's restless
little fingers tugged :it his; heart
.-tiitigs. Poor Love! and the water
di. n't taste good. If there was just a
squeeze of lemon juice in it! Pluck up
■courage, Jot -one more trial! For
Love, you know for Love!
"I'll do chores to pay for 't-ni, an"
you needn't only let me haw one, Mis
ter Tappan. The water tastes bad, an'
Love's set on having a squeeze of lemon
I'll carry it right home an' hurry back
an' do chores. I'll come quick as—as —"
"As your ma pays her bills —jist about
us quick as that," laughed Abel Tappan.
mughly. "I don't know's I'm suffering
lor chores this time o' night. I guess
Dove, or Love, or whatever her name
is, 'II have-to drink water a spell longer.
Your ma can put some vinegar into
liven it up, with a sprinkling o'sugar.
1 useter drink that with a relish when I
was a little shaver. You've got to pay
lor lemons if you want 'em out o' this
store. I've trusted you and trusted you
till I'm sick of it."
Little Jot drew up his stunted figure
in injured dignity. The very freckles
tu his face radiated scorn
"Keep your old lemons!" he cried, his
voice quavering unsteadily. "We don't
want 'em! (<), poor little thirsty Love!)
! guess we ain't beggars! I guess we
mean to pay our bills! Mother'd got
the money most all saved up. but Love
got worse an' she had to have the doc
tor an' lots of medicines."
He took long, manly strides toward
the door, his indignant voice trailing
{•fter him. Mrs. Drusilla Wyneoop, just
< utering. ran into him, and her ample
figure and the flapping folds of her
shawl quite engulfed the little scurry
ing shape.
"Land of liberty!" tyhe cried, cheer
ily. "who's this running over me just's
if I didn't amour.t to any thing! o,you
.lotliain? Wei!. I guess I'll have to get
i:.y life insured! (iood evening, Abel,
112 though 1 maybe you wouldn't mind if
I dropped into settle up my account.
To-morrow's New Year, and I couldn't
sleep a wink to-night, up to iny ears in
t!ebt."
Abel T ippan beamed at her over the
counter. lie hunted up a chair for her
and put n near the stove.
"I guess 't wouldn't be more than up
to your elbows. Mis' Wyneoop," he
laughed, jovially. "Xot deep enough
tr. keep you awake. Hut I knew you'd
l-e in to-night, just as well's I knew I
should eat my supper. I told Hecky.
• say* 'Mis' Wyneoop" be into pay
her bill to-night, you see if she ain't,
Becky,' says I—sot down here by the
fire, do —and here you are! Well, all
is, 1 wish there were more like you in
the world! Those shiftless McKies,
l.ovv —that little scamp of a Jot's been
in trying to get trusted again, but I've
struck! I guess it'sabout time, too."
He got down his big book from the
high corner desk and spread it open on
the counter, turning the pages labori
ously. AbelTappan was his own book
keeper an<J had his own peculiar fash
ion of "keeping" the great, leather
covered book—a fashion that would
have first puzzled, then floored the dap
per, precise graduate of h commercial
college. Hut it sufficed for Abel Tap
pan very well.
"Forty-two, forty-three, forty-four,
forty-five—Wyneoop; that's your
page," he said. "And I declare if Page
40 ain't the McKie [Kige, right across
from yours. I'd forgot that. Twenty
nine—tweijty-nine dollars and eighty
three cents. There you are, Mis' Wyn
eoop! You better reckon it up yourself
and make sure it's all right. We're all
iis liable to mistakes, as the sjKirks that
fly upward."
He tilted up and down on his toes
mildly incredulous of any possible er
ror in his reckoning, while Drusilla
Wyneoop went over the columns from
the top downward, ller lips cliippere.-l
audibly over the task.
"Yes: that's just right, Abel, and I'm
only thankful it isn't any more. Lord
of liberty! who'd believe nutmegs an'
pepper *n' salt would cost 'most s.'fu!"
ller eyes rested on Page 40, still lying
open on the counter, ner own page, op
posite, looked almost empty in compari
son.
From top to bottom and from side to
side, Page 40 was full of minute, un
steady words, traced with cramped
painstaking and flanked by a relentless
column of figures.
"What a pageful!" she exclaimed
"You don't say the McKies owe the
whole of that ? Land of liberty! I don't
see how they get a wink of sleep, and
New Year right on the verge, too! I
couldn't."
"I guess it don't keep them awak»
any. Shiftless folk* can sleep with their
heads under water."
Mr. Tappan's voice, loud with scorn,
echoed back from the high rafters.
Mrs. Wyneoop shook her head re
monstratingly. The words issued a lit
tle twisted out of shape by the fat
shawl pin bet ween her lips:
"O. no. no. Abel; you shan't call them
shiftless. I don't know about ,Teroin»
r ■
"WISHER A HAPPY NEW YEAH. DADDY!"
McKie, but his wife ain't. She's a real
devoted woman, and works dreadful
hard. Maybe she don't know how to
make the money spend as well's she
might, but that ain't shiftlessness. And
I never saw a tenderer hearted mother
than she is to that little sick girl of
hers. I guess she humors her to pieces.
Poor little thing!"
Abel Tappan stirred uneasily. Ar< w
of golden lemons on the shelf looked it
him with silent reproach, "The wutei
don't taste pood," a boy's eager voice
said in his ear.
"She looks like your little grand
daughter. too," Mrs. Wyncoop went on.
driving the shawlpin home with in
trepid aim—"everybody noticed it. He
fore she fell downstairs and crooked
her back the teacher—she boarded with
me then —said you could hardly tel 1
those two children apart when they
were together. She used to get 'cm all
mixed up at school. Same colored hair,
with the same kinks in it.and their eyo.>
just alike, and even their little diinp'es
matching! The little McKie girl was
fat and well then, like your I?ecky."
The letfions blinked their yellow eyes
reproachfully. Mr. Tappan strode be
hind the counter and swept them, with
a succession of clatters, into the monev
drawer, out of sight. He was mentally
reviewing the items of l'age 46. He
knew them by heart. How many, many
of them were little unpretending lux
uries that a little, peevish, sick child
might crave! How few of them- her
ring- now and then, and salt codfish
or out meal —were necessaries! It had
nettled him over and over again t.
think of it, but now. somehow, 't
touched him against his will.
Yes. O, yes he knew they used to sny
the little McKie girl—Love. Dove, what
was her name? looked like lleckv
His Becky! His little round, roly polv.
happy Becky!
After Mrs. Wyncoop's departure Al)-'
Tappan took the big brow n ledger back
to the corner desk still open. Dogged!v
be turned the pages and went to work
With quick steps the little N'ew Year
was hurrying to meet the Old Year
His light footsteps made no creaking
CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, DECEMBER 22, 1898.
over the snow. Kleven—quarter past
—half-past —how close they were, al
most touching hands!
A little voice roused Abel Tappan by
and by—Becky's—but he had never
heard Becky's voice from such a dis
tance before. He seized the lamp and
hurried upstairs, where he and his little
Iwloved, motherless Becky and old
Nance lived.
The child was tossing on her bed, fret
ting plaintively. Her little face, in tlie
lamp's feeble glimmer, looked unduly
flushed and thin.
"My back aches so!" she whimpered.
Becky's back ached so! Becky's lit
tle straight —no, O! Lord have mercy,
it was crooked! It bowed out pitifully
against the little white sheets. Becky'*
face was sharp with pain.
Abel Tappan shuddered from head tn
foot. The lamp shook in his hand un
safely. Through the blur on his glasses
the little tossing head on the pillow
seemed strangely far away from him
Was it his little, plump, rollickiup. dan
cing Becky—his straight Becky he had
been so proud of always?
"I'm so thirsty in iny throat!"
moaned the little crooked Reeky on ihe
bed.
He bent down unsteadily and kissed
her. His heart broke in the kiss.
"Daddy'll fetch you a drink right off,''
he faltered.
But she thrust away the glass he
brought her.
"It don't taste good—take it away,
daddy. I'm so thirsty in my throat!"
"Yes. yes; daddy'll go get some nice
fresh water, right out of the well. Yo'j
wait, Becky."
Becky lifted up her small, tangly
head and gazed up at him reproach
fully.
"Take it away, daddy," she cried
"Put lemon in—it don't taste good, i
want a squeeze o' leinon in, an' sugar.
I'm so thirsty!"
Abel Tappan's grizzled head bowed it
self beside the child's.
"Yes, yes; daddy'll fetch a lemon
riffht away and make it taste good,"
lie mumbled in an agony of prirf.
against her cheek. "Daddy'll see to it
all nice."
Back in the store again, he could
find no lemons, though he searched and
researched with dogged insistence.
Where could they be? There had been
plenty of them, over there on the sec
ond, right-hand shell', in a row.
He moved boves and cans, he cleared
whole shelves with a sweep of his arm.
Becky's little wail sounded on. unceas
ing, in his ears. lie must find them! lie
could not go back to Becky without
them. The yellow labels on some of
the bottles mocked him and led him on
to unavailing hopes. The dim lights
twinkled their eyes and jeered at him.
A merry party going past outside
shouted and sung, and he shook Un
tight fist toward them angrily. When
could the lemons be? he asked himself
over and over in dull wonder. If he had
only remembered to look in the mom \
till?
"I'll go down to the Forks—they'll
have 'em at Denby's," he muttered.
"It's a good mile, but 1 don't care if it's
:-0! 1 don't care if I have to wake up the
seven sieepers, neither!"
Hut how long it took to find his great
coat and get into it! lie tried to hurry.
Heavy weights seemed to hang to his
limbs and drag them back with dia
bolical persistence. Would his arms
ever go into the sleeves'? Was it go
ing to take till crack o' doom to get
his hat on his head? Big drops of sweat
scurried down the seams of his hag
gard cheeks. He set his teeth dog
gedly.
If the lemons in the money drawer
had only jogged against the door of
his memory!
"I'll find one- —big one —steal one—
anything!" he cried aloud.
Hark! was that the little voice, muf
fled by the folds of the thick comforter,
still calling to him? Was it growing
clearer, nearer?
"Wisher Happy New N ear, daddy."
Why, it was Becky said it herself,
standing in the murky doorway?
Reeky! Her voice shrilled out to him,
triumphant and sweet.
Abel sprang forward in sudden hor
ror and caught her in his arms. Her
little nightgown fell away from her
bare toes, and he felt the chill of then
against his wrists.
"Happy Xew Year." he repeated, me
chanically. af*?r her. He was hugging
the little cold feet fiercely to his breast,
and burying his face in the tousled hair.
It wa>: Ilecky Reeky and her
cheeks, against his, felt round and
warm. And she sat on his arm as
• traigLt and strong as a little ramrod!
Then he had been asleep. lie had had
a terrible dream. Thank (lod, he was
awake now! He carried Becky back
upstairs, feeling every step as he went,
with slow care. Then he tucked her
into bed among blankets and quilts, and
kissed her.
His lamp was flickering out, and he
got another and carried it down stairs.
The big book on the high corner desk
lay open at page 46 —
What!
Abel Tappan could hardly believe his
eyes. He took eff bis glasses and
nibbed them on the lining of his coat.
But when he put them on again, he
could still see two wavy, criss-cross
lines meandering from corner to corner
of page 40.
Mrs. Wyneoop's page, opposite, was
clean and uncrossed
"Well, now, who'd 've believed it!"
he laughed, in loud delight, ilis heart
felt light and glad. "I did it myself,
instead o' crossing out Mis' Wyneoop's!
And it can stay, too It'll remind me
that I ain't going to press that poor
McKie woman a mite—not a mite —not
if she can't ever pay up. She's got a
poor little spindling, crooked-backed
girl, and the Lord knows that's enough
affliction. That's more'n I could stand."
With careful painstaking, he retraced
the slanting lines, his pen splutterir.g
tiny flecks of ink upon his intent face.
"There!" lie breathed softly. "I guess
they're black enough to remind me if 1
ain't stone blind! Now I'll turn over a
new leaf."
At the top of the clean, new page lie
wrote, in his small, unsteady letters,
the word "Lemons."
"I'll send Beck,\ over with 'em first
thing in the morning—if I can find 'em,"
he added, laughing again. Then he
slapped his thigh in a sudden spasm of
recollection.
"Why, bless your heart! they're in
the money drawer this minute, holding
their sides, like as not. I raked 'em all
into get 'em out o' my siprht."
A sleigh load of belated revellers was
crunching past. Their gay voices rat:g
out, and their laughs chimed in pleas
antly with his.
He hurried to the door, unlocked it,
and shouted alter them at the top of
his voice, little Becky's "Wisher Happy
New Year!"—Anr.ic Hamilton Donnell,
in Country Gentleman.
ANOTHER NEW YEAR.
\«e Keeknned liy Inward Sinn* —Old
Only an Our (irouth In tlnnly and
Womanly Virtue Wonld Show.
A modern author suggests that if all
record and measurement of time by
hours and days and years could be
abandoned, we should gradually adopt
fi newer and truer standard, and count
our age by inward rather than out
ward signs.
If. by transformation of mental habit
this introspective reckoning could slid
denly be brought to bear, in what new
aspect should we see ourselves and
our friends. How old would many
seem who are yet in the vigor of youth,
and how youthful many whose brows
are wrinkled and crowned with silver
hair. We mitrlit not wholly separate
time and growth, but we should meas
ure time for mortals as we do for trees.
l\v the indications of growth.
Who does not know the difference
who looks back and sees how the life-
It ss years of his past lie half forgotten
wliiie the life of the vital \ ears lias pow
11* still to set every pulse n throb 7 These
years count, the others are ciphers. We
are as old as their grand vitality
inwrought into experience and ripened
into character has made us. We are
as old as our thoughts are high and
deep; as old as our love is wide and
warm; as old, and only as old. no mat
ter how many our years, as our growth
in manly and womanly virtue would
show. The brain may have absorbed
facts and theories and philosophies
about goodness and the real self b*
learning the alphabet of God's lesson
of obedience and trust.
These being the natural food of the
soul, its real growth depends on the
soul's power of assimilating what has
b*en prepared by a Divine hand for
its nurture. Yet on no amount of
thought about obedience, or love, or
goodness will the hungering human
nature thrive. No careful analysis of
foods will build up the wasting tissues
or give new strength to the growing
body, only that which enters into the
life becomes part of fiber, and blood,
and bone.—-Washington llome Maga
zine.
HOW SIIK KNEW.
Mrs. Cobwigger—How do you know
your husband kept the resolution he
made you last year to give up smoking?
Mrs. Hillaire—l've the best of proof.
1 made him a present of a box of ci
gn.rs and he hasn't touched one of then:
the whole year.—N. Y. World.
liellliiK Heady for Xew Vrnr'i Day.
(Juizzer— What are you putting cot
ton in your ears for?
Wise- Don't «vnnt to be deafened b
the sound of broken pledges to-moi
row. —.V V. Journal.
THE LATE FASHIONS,
Some Pr tty Things That Are Ap
propriate for the Season.
One of tlie Mnoy Men* in Petti-
COHIN—A Clirlntinn* filft 'I Inn
Hoy lie Made
at Home.
it is quite wonderful how much an
elaborate affair for the neck wili add
to a very plain costume. But as these
accompaniments to the toilet are ab
surdly expensive, it is always better
to see the design and make them at
home. A very handsome salmon-pink
T w ■ > PR I VITY <. X)LLA i;>,
collar is made of soft silk,over a, stiff
foundation. The collar fastens at the
back with ordinary hooks and eyes.
The silk is drawn over the collar, and
fastens in front with small rhine
stone buckles; between the buckles is
a shirring of white chiffon.
Two pointed pieces of salmon-colored
silk, edged with lace, cover the neck
completely beneath the ear.
It would seem that Dame Fashion
had carefully designed to have the new
jackets so various in cut as to be be
coming to all figures, stout or slim.
Very long tight-litting jackets reach
to the knees, and many are worn even
ll
ONE OF THE SIIOHT JACKETS.
longer. These are especially stylish,
made up in fur. Short jackets are also
worn It is quite the rage to have
dark fur jackets trimmed with wide
lapels and cuffs of light fur. The high
collar is also lined with light fur.
The illustration shows a new French
model developed in Persian lamb. It
is very short and tight-titting. Over
the hips it is cut into three scallops to
ward the front and a short "pigeon
tail" at the back. It is a very "chic"
jacket and exceedingly becoming to a
slight figure.
There are never so many attractive
Christmas gifts shown in the shop
Ii ! i
M4 1 §
'
i $ 4'
,j ® SB ■
1 ' Jj
j 1 j|
I
AN EMBROIDERED BOOK COVER
windows but one still has a desire to
make something oneself.
A pretty idea is an embroidered
book-cover. The conventional design
can be embroidered in one or several
colors on blue linen.
The cover is made on the pattern of
■j folding cardcase and is especially
adapted to protect s Tiaidsotnely
bound book from becoming soiled in
handling. Although the book-cover
by no means a new idea, it is too good
a one togo out of fashion, and the
book lover will find them an ever-wel
come present.
A charming dressing sack lor a
young girl is made of pale pink cider
down flannel.
AX EIDERDOWN DitESSIiNG SACK.
The turn-down collar is slightly low
at the throat.
The jacket fastens at the neck ami
waist with two pretty pink satin rib
bons. A dair.ty pocket ornaments each
side of the jacket over the hips.
The cuffs turn back.
The entire jacket, cuffs, pocket, etc .
are edged with pink satin ribbon about
an inch wide.
Odd as it may seem, it is always
easier to find a pretty bonnet for a little
girl, than an attractive one for a wee
boy.
However, a very stylish design for a
boy's bonnet is a black velvet. The
full, soft brim falls jabot-fashion at
each side of the face. The brim is lined
with pink silk. An enormous pink satin
bow and a large pink plume ornaments
the front.
There is such a rush of new ideas in
silk petticoats that it is a question to
know which ones to select. A very
handsome silk skirt is of, alternating
stripes of pale green, black and white
stripes garlanded with pink roses, 'l'he
flounce is short in front and long at
the back; it is trimmed top and bottom
with a narrow plaiting of heavy black
SOME LATE PETTICOATS.
satin ribbon, which is quite a novelty.
A very dainty skirt is of pale* pink
taffeia. It is trimmed at the bottom
with six rows of pink mousseline fie
sole. laid in perfectly plain bias folds
or tucks about an inch and a half wide.
Above these are two folds of whffe
mousseline de soie. The upper Told
is slightly festooned and held in plnet
by sofi rosettes of the same material.
THE LATEST.