10
We live here with our parents, in a house
'at's painted green,
An' of all the boys 'at ask fer toys we're
the best you ever seen!
"An" so, we thought we'd tell you jus' what
to bring, 'cos we
Know 'at you have a heap to do, an' busy
as kin be!
We know you're hltchln' up your team, an'
purty soon you'll leave,
An' these things is thes all we want—thes
all—on Chris'mus Eve:
"Two little drums,
An' sugar plums
An' a slate 'at won't do any sums;
An' a Hobby Hoss ,1 '
You kin ride across.
An' bicycles, an' balls to toss;
An' a steamer-boat
(I.ike the ones 'at float).
An' a wagon hitched to a Hilly Goat;
An' tops to spin
(What they's music in),
An' a elimbin' monkey, dressed in tin;
An' two toy-guns
(Like the Jones's ones).
An' a railroad train 'at winds an' runs;
An' a slidin' sled
'At's painted red,
An' a bran'-new little trundle bed;
Horns, whistles, drums.
An' sugar-plums—
Bring all you've got when Chrls'muscomes!
"We thes thought that we'd tell you, 'cos
you got so much to do,
An' all the little boys an' girls Is writin'
notes to you;
We was 'frald you might forget us. while
you're hitehin' up to leave;
But them things is thes all we want—thes
all—on Chris'mus Eve!"
—Frank L. Stanton, in Atlanta Constitution.
112 T WAS very silly
II of me to faint,"
I | Mrs. Merrie said,
J I tremulously,"and
> r quite as sill} - for
you all to send
for a doctor! I
~"f never did such a
thing in my life before! It just
6*cmed like everything went, nil on a
sudden! I hain't been rale strong,
some way, for a long time."
"No," Dr. Temple answered, quietly.
"But it don't do to give up! What
with the fruit season and harvesting
Thrashin' and the like, there's a sight
to do. 1 don't see why 1 have this
give down now—just at Christmas!
It's too bad!"
"And may be worse." the physician
replied, his keen glance resting on
the sewing machine piled high with
unfinished work. "Mrs. Merrie. if your
friend over there fell to squeaking,
grinding and snapping thread, should
you goon working at full speed?'"
"Why, that wouldn't be very smart
in me, sir. to wear it out! 1 should
stop and oil!"
"Thou sayst the thing I mean!
Your old worn-out body bids you be
ware. I'm not going to give you any
medicine. You need rest—absolute
rest. I advise you to accept the good
cheer of the season; leave home, and
take a vacation."
Four solemn young faces turned
blankly to the stern one of the man
of science. Mother leave home! Jack
and Joe, Jim and Jerry (diminutives
of Jacqueline, Josephine, Jemima and
Jerusha, the "Merry Jays") grasped
the situation at once, and realized its
hopelessness. It is all very well for a
rich man to prescribe rest and
«hange, but another matter to follow
his. advice when the purse is flabby
and family cares crying with a voice
which will not be comforted. A pit
eous little smile drew down the cor
ners of Mrs. Merrie's mouth.
"Oh, fix me out a little quinine,
doctor, or calomel! You know I
can't leave home! Christmas is here,
and the poor children havt been slav
ing away at their books and must
have their good time. I'm all right."
Dr. Temple snapped the straps of
his case and arose. "When you col
lapse again," he said, coldly, "you had
better call another doctor—one who
will give calomel."
Jerry, youngest of the Jays, had
been standing remorsefully by her
mother's chair. "I know what Dr.
Temple thinks," she said, valiantly.
"He thinks if you cannot rest—with
grown-up daughters—your case is
hopeless, and he gives it up. Y'ou
can follow the advice; she shall have
her vacation, sir!"
"Spoken like a man!" the doctor
answered, heartily. (Jerry wore her
hair cut close, and walked and talked
with a slight swagger.) "Take care
of her; mothers are not a drug in
the market. I will go now—good
day, friends! 1 hope to see roses on
those cheeks before spring comes."
"What a very absurd man!" the
mother exclaimed, dropping weakly
back against the pillow. "Why did
you send for him, girls?"
"Because," Jerry answered, rising
to the height of self-accusation, "be
cause we needed some one to tell us
bow selfish we arc! In school, every
one of us—not a soul to give you a
hand's turn. And in vacation—oh,"
with a remorseful groan—"last vaca
tion I made crazy quilts!"
"And very pretty they were, too,
I'm sure. What's the matter with
you all? I ain't complainin'!"
"Of course not. But we're guilty
all the same. She shall have her va
cation—what do you say, girls?"
"Christmas or no Christmas!" was
the verdict.
"Last summer," Jim remarked,
gravely, "I went off to Cousin Vic's,
and kept my hands white, it's ma's
turn now."
"But ma ain't agoin' to your Cousin
Vic's," Mrs. Merrie announced, reso
lutely. "Ma's agoin* to stay right
here. I see me a-askin' your poor pa
for money!"
The word "money" brought a frown
to four faces. "Well, we'll pet sup
per and talk it over," Joe said, sober
ly. "You lie still and rest."
"Ma" was nothing 1 loath. It was
very pleasant lying there in the twi
light, watching the shadows clasp
hands and dance along the rafters.
Even the odor of camphor, suggestive
of illness, did not trouble her. The
room grew wry quiet. She was a
little girl again, out in her father's
boat hunting pond lilies, when Jim
patted her hand.
"Here's your toast and tea, moth
er." she said, shaking her a little.
"Take it now while it's hot. We've
talked it all over with pa. and have
decided about your vacation. You are
to have one. We will take you off
to-morrow." Luxurious idleness pre
vented argument.
"Well," she said, fumbling with the
cup. "How white the lilias are! Well
—yes."
Mrs. Merrie found herself helpless
iji the hands of husband and children.
They would not let her prepare the
morning meal, and it was a novel
sensation to lie and listen to the
cheerful sounds from the kitchen.
Joe sang as she bustled about, and
came in presently, an open valise in
her hand.
"I'm packing your things, mother,"
she announced. "It's just awful to
discover how few things you have to
pack! Why didn't you remind us you
need clothes sometimes? But Jim and
T are cast in your mold; we've hunted
you out some of our things. I'm go
ing to give you my red merino wrap
per to lounge in."
"Land sakes! I think you-all's
gone stark starin' mad!" Mrs. Merrie
protested petulantly. "You can't
send me off against my will, I reckon!
And where is there togo to-—and
money to pay for a trip, anyhow?"
Joe nodded brightly. "Never you
BEFORE HER COZY FIRE.
mind, Mrs. Merrie; this is our little
affair. We've arranged for the nicest
boarding-place, where you can enjoy
the first quiet Christmas of your mar
ried life. As to the money—well,
your board is paid, l'a says you may
stay as long as you want to."
"I reckon you-all will have your
own way," the mother grumbled.
"The money must come out of poor
Jack's hard earnings, or your pa make
a sacrifice. You might tell me where
I'm going, anyhow! And I wonder if
your royal highness and his majesty,
Dr. Temple, and his grace, John Mer
rie, will let me take my knittin'
along? 'Cause if you-all don't 1 sha'n't
know what to do with my hands in
your fine company."
Joe smiled as she tucked Jesse's
half-finished sock into the grip. "Oh,
yes! you can take it. There won't
be company, though; we want you
to rest."
"And whatever is to become of the
work —and the sewing—and my bless
ed baby—"
"Jess is no baby—a great six-year
old boy! It's a. pity, ma, if we can't
take care of things! This is your
medicine, and you shall take it, if we
have to hold your nose! There, now;
1 want to get you ready, l'a is bring
ing up the cart."
Mrs. Merrie submitted herself in
resigned silence. There was a taint
of affectation in her resistance, for un
der all was a lurking sense of pleas
ure. Well, why not accept the rest
and change? There come times in our
lives when it is profitable to hide
from our dearest.
Joe's soft touches on her head
smoothed out the worry-wrinkles
from a prer.'aturely aged brow. By
the time Mr. Merrie came in she could
answer the twinkle in his eye. He
was a good-humored giant, who, in
sublime unconsciousness and with
the best intentions in the world, had
trodden on her heart for 2ft years.
"Come on. old lady!" he said, shrug
ging into his overcoat. "We'll be rid
of you and yer faintin' spells in a
jiffy! Wrap her up warm, girls; it
ain't none too ploasant abroad. Not
that mother's one o' yer deliky carry
me-easy kind! Here's her thing-mn
bob. Now git through the kissin'."
There were no tears, save those Mrs.
Merrie softly let fall in weak self
pity. Was it really so easy to let her
go? She looked back wistfully as she
CAMERON COUNTY PRBSB, THURSDAY, DECEMBER ao, 1900.
was driven off at a rattling pace, and
saw the old house dissolve into the
general gray. Nature had turned
Quaker this day.and gray was the
only color she wore. The fog hung
low, dropping tears. Not a pleasant
day, yet a sense of exhilaration came
to her. It was a novel sensation to
be driving thus, without so much as
a chicken or a basket of eggs as an
excuse. There was almost the spice
of wickedness to make her ride
memorable.
"There's old Markle's mill," John
observed, checking the horse. "Old
Markle he don't keep her up like he
used to. She's a-gittin' crazy lookin',
the old mill is. If that was my
place —"
He rambled on cheerfully. Mrs.
Merrie scarcely heard. The dim land
scape was like a picture seen in child
hood—soft-shrouded, unreal, yet deli
cately beautiful. She drew a short,
sharp breath. "Why do we live so
hard?" she faltered. "Lookout! God
has crowded His world with pleasant
things!"
"Well. I dunno!" he answered.
"Git 'long. Poke-easy! D'ye reckon
we're in such a rush to git we can't
stop, and run on past?"
The ride was a long one. "We're
goin' to meet Christmas," John re
marked, with a wink. "If she don't
hump herself we'll be at headquar
ters afore she gits started!" But fay
and by visions of dinner and a fire
side appealed to him coaxingly, and
he decided Christinas might find its
way unattended. He put the horse
into a irot, and after awhile the road
grew familiar. Mrs. Merrie held her
peace till they were fairly in the lane
leading home.
"Have you forgotten anything?"
she asked, dryly, suspecting a prac
tical joke, and ready to resent it.
John helped her down carefully and
set her grip on the horse-block. "Not
a bit of it!" he answered, heartily.
"I started with the best little woman
in the world, and have fetched back
ever' bit of her! Here's yer boardin'
house, missus, board paid in advance!"
The noise of their arrival brought
four rosy young faces to the door.
Jack (the oldest Jay) ran laughing
to the gate, and kissed her mother
on the cheek. "Our new boarder!"
she said, taking the valise. "Come
right in! I hope you will like us, and
enjoy your vacation. These are my
sisters, Josephine, Jemima and Je
rusha. I'm Jack! Come in here and
lay off your wraps. This is ma's room
—when she's home. Over there is
your sitting-room. Are you much
tired or cold?"
Mrs. Merrie was a Jay herself, as
capable of enjoying a bit of delicate
humor as the rest of them. So this
was the solving of the problem, the
vacation which was to cost nothing!
She turned away her face after the
first laugh, that they might not wit
ness the passing of the swift storm
which shocked through the gentle
habit of patience.
"No, I am neither cold nor tired,"
she said, after that pause. "I am
sure I shall like my boarding l%iuse
if you think—if you truly believe—
my board is paid—"
"In advance," four voices chorused.
"You have been saving up and pay
ing for 20 years!" Jack whispered,
tenderly, looking into her eyes. "Oh,
we feel—we understand—what you
have always been to us!"
Here Jerry pushed determinedly to
the front. "I am to attend you,
ma'am," she said. "Your board bill
includes service. If the young ladies
and the big male-Jay will please to
clear out I'll take off your damp
clothes and make you comfortable."
The red wrapper came into play,
likewise Joe's dainty beribboned knit
slippers. The new boarder sank lux
uriously into the big rocker (common
ly occupied by one of the girls) and
stretched her feet to the warmth.
Opposite her hung a mirror, and from
time to time she glanced wondering
ly at the face reflected there. It
was not, after all, the face of an old
woman, although it had exchanged
the crude pink of youth for the in
definable delicacy of maturity. The
eyes met hers, full of light, and about
the mouth were those wistful lines
which tell of dreams not yet relin
quished.
From one new thought to another.
She realized all at onee that the room
had been prepared for her reception.
There were the "company shams" on
the bed, Jim's geraniums in the win
dow, little loving touches everywhere.
Sitting there ro quietly she grew con
scious of Jesse's black eye applied to
the crack of the door, and further sur
vey revealed his little butterfly kite
hung up for her delight. The lump
in her throat had climbed so high she
hadn't voice left to thank Joe for the
cup of coffee which was to "drive out
the cold."
Dinner was substantially 3 failure,
artistically a success. The big - male-
Jay made a wry mouth over the sal
low bread and soggy potatoes, but his
mate had no criticism to offer. To
her it was a glorified feast, for she
ate and drank the fruits of her labor
—her children's love, poured back
into the emptied measure of her life.
Back before her cozy fire (which
Jerry religiously kept burning) she
accepted the blessedness of rest.
Dreams overtook her—.
"Climbed over the window sill," es
caping into the fair, lost land of child
hood. Through the whole afternoon
she slept, and the little house hushed
itself as though life or death were at
issue. Kven Jesse never once hal
looed, or stamped his boots, or whis
tled, for which unprecedented good
behavior Jack gave him a penny, and
drew a long chalk mark on the smoke
house door.
Early next morning tantalizing
little odors began to sneak into the
apartments of the new boarder. Now
she was sure it was turkey, now it
seemed to be mince pie and hot cake.
Then she remembered it was Christ
mas eve, and rolled up her knitting
decisively.
"The dear girls!" she thought.
"They'll burn up and spoil everything
they undertake! They'll not be sor
ry to have mammy back in the kitch
en !"
But. she had reckoned without her
host. The door between her and the
kitchen was locked, and when sh* at
tempted the dining-room entry Jack
stopped her decidedly at the thresh
old. "I beg your pardon," she said,
with polite severity. "You rented the
parlor and bedroom only, I think. In
deed we don't mean any incivility, but
we just can't have our boarders clut
tering up the kitchen on busy days,
and will take it as a favor if you'll go
back to your own quarters and get
ready for a little outing. You haven't
seen your old crony, Mary Ann Griggs,
since she moved away, have you? Jer
ry wants to drive you down there in
the cart to spend the day."
Mrs. Merrie's eyes lighted with pleas
ure. *'Well, really." she admitted, "if
you won't let me help you-al'l I should
like to see Mary Ann—powerful well!
1 really should enjoy togo!"
Jerry brought her back in the early
twilight and hustled her off to bed, and
again sleep brought its healing.
Christmas morning came in with soft
unsandaled feet. All the earth was
wrapped in the whiteness of snow. The
Christ-child was born anew, and the
great Mother, tenderly, in the hours
of darkness, had spread her softest
coverlet about His feet. ,
Four bright-eyed faces, with Jesse
be'.ow and the big male-Jay above,
peeped in.and the simultaneous shout
of "Christmas Gift!" brought Mrs.
Merri?- up from among her blankets.
"Well, I never!" she ejaculated. "I
reckon this is the first Christ mas you
all ever caught ma a-nappin"! 1 ain't
got no Christmas for you neither—
think of that!"
"Never mind." Jesse soothed.
"We've got"— but Joe had him by the
shoulders, and shook his mouth shut.
There would have been instant war
then, but—well, Jesse knew what he
knew, and the balance of power re
mained unmistakably with the girls.
The dining-room door remained ob
stinately locked all 1 day. Breakfast
was eaten in the snug little kitchen,
dinner served instate in the parlor.
There were no guests at. all save old
Granny Woods, a half blind pauper,
who always presented herself on rec
ognized holidays, and was served witli
the best.
During the progress of the meal the
tempting, secretive odors unveiled
themselves. King Gobbler had yielded
to the inevitable, and, more lovely in
death than in life, adorned the center
of a generous feast. "A reg'lar blow
out," as Jesse expressed it.and there
were no failures this time. The energy
and talent of the whole family of Jays
(minus its head) went to the making
of a success so brilliant as to mark an
epoch. "Just see what you-all can do!"
Mrs. Merrie said over and over, her eyes
bright with pride. "Why, 1 can't hold
a candle to such cookin' as this!"
But. the day was to to crown itself
with greei#r laurels. Each year since
their infancy she had planned surprises
for them: now had come the hour to
reverse the story. When the lamps
were lit they took her into the dining
room. where a handsome tree gleamed
with light and color. The fact th.it
there were more candles, tinsel paper
and popcorn balls than presents did not
detract from its beauty. Behind it on
the wall was the legend: "Mother s
Christmas," wrought in evergreen.
Mother sat down in the big new rocker,
cushioned with one of Jerry's con
science-stricken crazy quilts, and yield
ed to tears.
"Mother." Jack said, tenderly, kneel
ing beside her, "our selfishness was un
intentional; we didn't know we were
driving you to death! In our hurry tc
get an education we —forgot. Y'ou
know my poor little pay as country
school-teacher barely dresses us. but I
can see my way plain to hire help for
you while we are at school. You be
lieve we love you, don't you, mother?"
"Yes," she answered, huskily. "Y'es.
yes! Whoever doubted it ? And I—oh,
what does anything matter, so we love
each other?"
So this sweet Christmas passed into
memory, and shone there, a rainbow
promise that the flood should no more
engulf one mother's soul. —M. Howard
Sheppard, in Ladies' World, New York.
A SiiKKrullon.
Just to round out your full comple
ment of Christmas happiness, con
tribute a bit of Christmas for the poor.
—St. Louis ilepublic.
Fashion's Decrees of the
Winter in G
Some New Elaborations Are Being Shown on
the Season's Visiting Gowns
*XV/JE possibilities of
M the rtebu ombre taJifeto
VISITING gowns show some new
effects in the way of elaboration
produced by the use of the new
ombre taffeta. This is shaded in the
length of the silk from a very dark to
light, and is used for applicat ions or in
crustations, either on fine net or the
much used moire panne. The shading
of this silk makes it very handsome and
effective. The colors are pure white,
shaded to greens, blues or reds, or the
deep orange and royal blues. The
shaded browns lead in popularity.
One of the new visiting gowns
trimmed with this is made of black
cloth, with applique of black panne
outlined with a golden ombre taffeta.
The graceful hanging skirt has trails
OF GOLDEN BROWN BATIN FACED CLOTH.
of leaves fashioned of the applique.
On the bolero the leaves are in clusters
so closely that they almost cover the
sleeves. The design covers the short
back, and the longer fronts, with an
edging of mink tail coming against the
ivory white satin of old lace veiling.
The vest is <;f shining golden tissue,
while at the throat there is a hint of
turquoise blue velvet.
A second gown for visiting purposes
is of golden brown satin cloth, trimmed
with panne in a lighter shade, with
brown ombre taffeta in a paisly design.
Theskiri has a front panel of the velvet,
with the ombre taffeta in paisly design.
The cloth is plaited on each side. A
pointed boliro of the c'.oth. with vest
of velvet trimmed the same as the
skirt.
A more simple gown, yet one that is
decidedly more striking, is of helio
trope y.ebt line cloth, with rosettes of
ombre taffeta in a light blue. The skirt
is fastened at one side with three
rosettes of the taffeta, each having a
gold button in the center. It has a
nattv box coat, with a large turn-over
collar and revers of velvet, edged with
mink tail fur. Three rosettes of the
taffeta to finish the front.
styles the
A A year built bring
JAXI'ARY and the new century will
bring us some slight changes in
_ fashions. Among these will be a
little variety in the way of hats, and the
prevailing millinery will be Henry IV.
and. other cavalier styles.
Not alone in black, but in colors as
well, trimmed with black and white
TRIMMED WITH BLACK PANNE AND
GOLDEN OMBRE TAFFETA.
plumes, velvet hats are to be the strong
point. Smooth covered, draped or made
of velvet braid—Wiat is to say, folds of
velvet used as braid, sometimes with
chenille. For instance, a fold of velvet
edged with chenille is twisted into hat
shape. These combinations are used
either of black or pastel tints of velvet
edged with black chenille, trimmed
with white or black feathers and re
lieved with gold. Pearls and turquoise
are ornaments which are very much
in the velvet hats.
In color the new century will be
ushered in amid a burst of red. Red vel
vet for millinery purposes is even now j
assuming such proportions that it may !
be safe to class it as a fad. The shade ]
is a rich garnet, with a slight car
dinal tinge, giving it life- rather than
dullness. Hats of this are made in all
shapes and are preferable trimmed in.
roses and foliage. Many of the jjreen
leaves of velvet or other textures are
used on such affairs and are a relief
from the fancy feather ideas of the
early season.
Another of the fads of the hour in
the- way of millinery is gold roses. It
is but an outcome of the craze for gold
that has not yet reached an end. These
roses are made of beautiful, thin gold
cloth and are exquisite in their richness
and artistic effect. They are tasteful
and novel, and when properly combined
and worn by the right person are very
effective. These gold roses are com
bined with empire green velvet leaves,
and are especially liked upon black,
garnet and green velvet hats.
ITIWA T tue tac%. in the
WW production of fashions
HAS the burst, of patriotism that
caused the women of the fash
ionable set in New York and
other cities in this count ry to patronize
home industry in the purchase of their
gowns had its full run?
Kor many years the ultra-fashionable
set in America have been patrons of the
fashionable costuming establishments
of London, Paris. Vienna and Herlin,
but with the breaking out of the war
with Spain the ladies displayed their
patriotism by purchasing their gowns
at home. Xow the trend seems Paris
ward again, and I put the above ques
tion to one of the leading dry goods
trade journal writers —a member of
the staff of the Dry Goods Economist—
a few days ago, and received this re
ply:
"America cannot produce the novel
ties of design either in materials or
completed costume that the American
woman demands. Our American wom
en lead the world with their costumes;
thev set the styles for Europe as well
as America, but their ideas to secure
the best results must be carried out in
Paris, for we lack both the men and
OF ZEBELINE CLOTH IN HELIOTROPE.
the facilities for doing so in this coun
try.
"Our facilities for manufacture are
not yet high enough in many interests
to produce materials that will suit the
critical taste of this class of society.
Tint in addition to a lack of manufac
turing facilities we lack also the ar
tistic class who have turned their ar
tistic faculties to mercantile art. We
have the artists, but they would rather
put their ideas on unsaleable canvas
than upon saleable dress goods. Vet
the reproduction of artistic designs in
fabric was really the origin of the ma
jority of European art centers.
"When we can supply the designs
and have the facilities for manufac
ture the American woman will buy her
gowns at home rather than goto Paris
for them. And, as American ideas are
now valued in Paris, New York may be
come the fashion center of the world
when we produce the needed men and
methods."
SARAH DAVIDSON.
Cnxt€> Anionic Turkish Women.
It is not generally known that there
exists among Turkish ladies of high
class a kind of caste feeling similar to
that prevailing among Hindoos. It
takes the form of a fear of contamina
tion from the outer world and is only
observed by those who cannot afford tu
keep servants in sufficient numbers.
Before meals ladies always wash their
hands at a tap from which the water
runs into a marble basin. They will
turn on the tap when they are just go
ing to wash, but when they have fin
ished they let the water run till some
body shuts it off, as to do it themselves
would make them unclean. They can
not open or shut a door, as the handle
would be unclean, so a slave is gener
ally kept handy for the purpose.—X. Y.
Sun.
INOII'M Motto.
Thomas A. Edison's motto is: "Never
watch the clock." So devoted to his
work is he that he frequently works 16
hours at a stretch Without noting the
passage of time.