10
fID you hear wliat the old
man said to ine when he
gave me the ten?" asked
Robert Allerton of the
bright-faced cashier as
they prepared to close the
office the night before
Christmas. "He said: 'Take that and
make a merry Christmas for your fam
ily.' "
"Well, wasn't that a very appropri
ate Christmas suggestion?" inquired
the cas4iier.
"My family!" said the young man,
flerceij'. "You tell me where my fam
ily is, will you? Other fellows- have
mothers and fathers and sisters to
make a Christinas for. I never had a
tingle soul on the face of the earth,
far as 1 know, that I could call my
family. What- good is Christmas, or
t;ji-dollar gold pieces, or anything,
for a fellow who don't belong any
where?" and Robert gulped down
something that sounded suspiciously
like a sob.
"Cheer up, and come over to our
house to-morrow; we'll help you to
forget your troubles," said his tender
hearted companion.
"It isn't merely a good time I want,"
said Robert; "I'm not a baby; it is to
have somebody that belongs to me to
make a good time for."
"Why don't you adopt a family of
your own for Christmas?" asked the
girl, with a sudden inspiration.
Robert stared at her in amazement.
"Rut, really, why couldn't you?
There are thousands of people, young
and old, in this city, who never have
anyone to make a Christmas for them.
There's my car; sorry 1 must go.
Don't get blue; take my advice, adopt
a family of your own for Christmas,"
and the girl hurried away.
"Adopt a family, great idea!" said
Robert to himself; but the idea still
lingered in his mind, and really there
was something strangely fascinating
in the thought of the ownership of a
real, live family.
He stood on the corner, undecided
-where togo, because it did not really
matter to anybody where he went; "a
bright-eyed, clear-brained, loving
bearted*youth, candidate for sonship
lo some loving mother or father: pos
sessed with a perfect passion for help
ing those weaker than himself; a
youth to make a mother's heart su
premely happy, and a father proud
and glad.
"I'm earning enough," thought Rob
ert. "I could support a mother and a
sister, too; and I'm going to be pro
moted. Mr. Wilkins, the manager,
told me so to-day. But what's the
use? It will only be a few more dol
lars to put away in the bank. It does
seem as if things- were pretty well
tangled up in this world sometimes.
I'd give up my job any day if I could
have a family like John vVitherbee's,
and yet he is always grumbling be
cause he has to help at home."
As Robert walked aimlessly down
the street, he found himself uncon
sciously scrutinizing every woman and
child, with the idea of possible pro
prietorship.
The door of a church stood inviting
ly open, and because Robert did not
belong anywhere in particular, lie en
tered and sat down in a corner. Some
thing unusual was evidently in prog
ress. A man stood on the platform,
and seemed to l>e acting a* auctioneer.
"\\ lio'll take tliem. a family of
seven, two sick babies-, three little
girls, an old grandmother, aod a lame
father? Deacon ltliss-? 1 know your
generous heart; you always bid" for
Ihe biggest and hungriest* family.
The next one is a sick mother and
three small children. Perhaps I'd bet
ter stop to explain before I proceed
farther. I see there are a number of
ctrangers who have come in since I
was talking. We have 12 families on
our list for a ( liristmas celebration
none of them will know that to-mor
row is ( hristinas unless yu help us
to tell them. Now. fret in your l>l«ls
quick, for they are going fast. J;f
member Ibe good Lord's 'Whosoever,* i
and snap them up lively;" U nd the
voluble deacon proceedec with his list.
Robert sat and listened with added
interest. It i i)<• t ftieli a prep<>-tir*
ous idea, after nil, this adopting a
family for Christ mat," thought 111 "I
wonder if there ate all) left that will
fit im case."
"Here"* the last on mv list," called
out the deacon; "a niothei and a i
little woman she i», too and two i
little maidens of three and ten; her
nul) soo iuii«ri in a jaiirwad accident i
six months ago. Nobody want them?
Dear me, that is too bad! Yes, I know
you have every one of you taken your
share; but we mustn't let that family
go; I'll take it myself first, although
I've five booked against my name al
ready. What's that, young man?
You'll take them? liless your heart,
you'll never regret it. One shake of
the dear old mother's hand will pay
you."
It did not take Robert more than
five minutes to get directions as- to
street and number, and all the time
he was doing some close calculating
as to the investment of the ten-dollar
gold piece.
"A fine dinner you're getting for
your family," said the grocer, as he
packed the basket full of good things.
"Are there many of them?" "Only a
mother and two little girls," Robert
answered with a blush, and yet with a
feeling of satisfaction,
"Supposing 1 should not like them?"
he thought, as he knocked at the door
of a tiny cottage on an unpretentious
street.
His first look into Mrs. Robbins'
motherly, worried face settled that
question.
"1 think there must be some mis
take, sir," said the little widow;
"they're surely not for us," and her
voice trembled as she looked down at
the two little daughters who were
hovering expectantly over the bulky
basket. "Are you the grocer's young
man, and are you sure you have the
right number?"
"Yes," answered Robert, "it's just
the right number and description; a
dear little mother and two little maid
ens of three and ten."
For a minute or two Mrs. Robbins !
feared she was harboring an escaped
lunatic, but Robert, perceiving her |
perplexity, hastened to explain.
As he graciously listened to Mrs.
Robbins' words of gratitude, he took !
a mental inventory of the possibilities I
of the Robbins' household with a view ;
to a Christmas-day celebration. The
field was evidently undeveloped. Not i
a doll, nor a picture-book; not a set !
of dishes nor a Noah's ark was to be
seen. "It's all straight sailing on the I
toy question," thought Robert, "and ;
by the appearance of their clothes, I !
guess- I can't go far wrong if I lay in
a complete wardrobe for the girls." ■
0 sons- and brothers who grumble
over Christmas shopping for mothers
and sisters, you can never experience
the zest with which Robert Allerton
started upon his first Christmas shop
ping tour. It was the realization of
the accumulated dreams of a dozen
years. When other boys had dreamed
of fame and tender romances that
were to come into their lives, Robert
had longed only to satisfy the heart
hunger of many motherless, sisterless
years.
It- would be impossible to describe
the raptures of the next day, when
Robert Allerton let loose upon the un
suspecting Kohbins' household a
pent-up Christmasi enthusiasm of
years. "For 24 hours I'm going to
abandon myself to the pleasant fancy
that 1, like others, am the center of a
home circle; for one Christmas day
I'll have my ( liristmas rights."
It was in the twilight of the ( lirist
mas day, as Robert sat holding Nan
nie in hi- arms, telling her for the
seventh time the wonderful storv of
Saint Nick, that the child drew his
head down to her lips and whispered:
"Jimie says- you're only a Cliristmas
day brother. It isn't so, is it? You're
an all-the-year-round brother, aren't
you?"
He satisfied Uie little one with a
carets.
A little later when Mother Kobbins
bide him a motherly good-by, k lie
said:
"You've been so generous in your 1
gifts, dear hoy, and made the little
ones so happy, and I've nothing to j
give you in return but the love I've I
been saving all these 17 years for my I
own dear boy. who neeils it n.> more.
1 thought to lavi.-h it on him in hi*
.voting inanh but the l.ord knew
better. It's ready and waiting for such
o not her brave, true ion."
1 ei haps, after a !, this i■- more a
universe of law and order than I had I
imagined," aid Hubert, lis he looked
up at the Christina* atari* shining
steadily in their appointed places "It
was surely something more than inert
elm nee that broei/ht me with mv long
ing for n mother to the one dear little
who most needed a »wu."—
Laiou Siyuul.
CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, DECEMBER 25, 1902.
ft tvaftfng fer th' holidays ; some
j| "' 1 ho to it seems ter me
I liW 1 (
I ' W%Mi an to hut they used ter be:
I HFJSHSV MP**- Th' sunshine seems tots brighter. th'
!, w,m sm sK. es a deeper blue
' I l" I Than any o' th' Christmuses 'at us old
.1 fellers kfteto
When tar touz harum scarum Kids, an'
~ laid atajaKe all night.
An' toent tiptoein' doton th' hall afore
it sKcrce to as light.
An' fetched poor dad a-ramblin' round an' lookjn' almost froze.
A-paddlin' bar-J-oot across the floor an' toigglin' of his toes.
. ; JVotv standin' stork-like with one foot
r-T.WW'* raised off th' cold, cold floor.
J . | 'i\ i i £jmf An' lookjn' fer the tohis*ers 'at he toore
'TO BCdpil l //»* year before.
—rw OJI': ■S'o's he could play at Santa Claus an'
\\/l a fir ft fool us fellers. My!
! if, Hot*/ us Kids sneaked back. a-snigggrin'
i I *'// toe toas like ter die!
JiL- [ - l 'j_ An' cratuled bacK inter bed ag'in.
"r-rs a-tuaitin' fer th' yells.
The "Whoa! notu! you ol' reindeers!"
an' janglin' o' the' bells
At told us all toas ready: an' nuts, an' cake an' things
"Riz up afore our %>ision, till toe toent doton stairs of, toings !
-•* ~■ • An' dad, he looKed so happy, an'
mother smilin,' so -
My! but they toas a happy pair!
Them days toe didn't Knoto
What Christmas day could mean ter
F them, but no to I guess toe do.
m,/' i! since toe'-Ve got youngsters o' our oton.
7y ol' feller, me an' you :
|I J/ An' so th' toorld's lots brighter noto;
o w they's somethin' in th' shine
O' eyes a-looKin' in your face, an' eyes
'at looK in mine.
An' in our hearts th' kind o' loxJc 'at makes a feller glad!
Till toe're as happy noto. I guess, as mother toas. an' dad.
Houston Post.
"H n RnowN
DRESSING THE TREE.
llow It Mnj He Done to Secure the
lSe»t EffectM,
'J lie Woman's Home Companion
gives some hints on decorating a
| Christmas tree safely. It is well
! known that when tapers are fixed
to the laden branches, after the
gifts are taken off the lightened
| houghs spring up and often set each
| other on lire. The mode indicated
here avoids all that,
j "First," says the Companion, "thin
i cut the branches sufficiently to al
; low the gifts to show to good ad
vantage. Then with an auger bore
I holes in a spiral row about four
! or five inches apart the whole length
tof the trunk. Have some flat sticks
i prepared, an inch wide and half an
i inch thick, and of varying lengths,
j Sharpen one end, and insert them
according to their graduated lengths,
1 giving each a blow or two with a
hammer to insure its being firmly
fixed. Paint them green. At the
I
TSe Sweets of Christmas Time.
While children's hearts with gladness alow
At happy Christinas time.
And olders euj>er int'rest show
As when in early prime.
Not all the sweets for these are sent
On that thrice*bleised day-.
Kin|( Cupid in the merriment
With Santa Claus holds ft wt&y.
ji. wi.Leu. J
outer end the candle holder is liriuly
| fixed."
I To the topmost branch before the
j tree is put up, affix the "Christ-child"
I —the winged doll, secured by slight
i rubber bauds under the wings, liilt
paper stars and crescents are pret
ty, affixed here and there to the
boughs. Gay silk and tarleton bags
I full of nuts and candy, oranges and
j r.pples, bundles of stick candy tied
with ribbons, little baskets and
j cornucopias of figs and raisins, gild
; ec> walnuts, popcorn balls, strings of
| popcorn and cranberries, candy
j canes, paper chains—all these and
i other things they will suggest will |
| decorate a tree so prettily that the
children for whose pleasure it is con
structed will forget, in their delight,
that it is not weighted down with
costly gifts.
t liri*tinn* Etiquette.
No holiuay joy can be complete to
those who have not tried to make
other hearts happier. This is Christ
mas etiquette.—Ladies' Home Journal.
FREDDY'S PRESENTS.
Those He Received Were Alnnji of
tile Iseful Kind.
The following short story, says
Youth's Companion, will excite vari
ous emotions. Some readers will
laugh at it; others will be indignant;
and every boy that reads it will be
glad his name is not Freddy Keedick.
"T think I shall have to get a Christ
mas present for little Freddy
Keedick," said Mrs. Dillingham to h«r
husband one evening early in Decem
ber.
"Don't you think you have enough
little nephews and nieces to provide
for in that way?" asked Mr. Dilling
ham.
"We have enough, that's true, but
Mrs. Keedick was so very kind when
Nellie was sick in the summer, that I
feel somewhat under obligation to
her."
"Then I would get Freddy a Christ-'
mas present, by all means. What do
you suppose would l>e suitable?"
"1 have not been able to make up my
mind as to that. What do you think?"
"Oh, don't ask me!"
"I have an idea!" exclaimed Mrs.
Dillingham. "I'll make a call on Mrs.
Keedick this afternoon, and try to find
out what sort of a present would be
acceptable to Freddy."
In pursuance of this resolve, Mrs.
Dillingham was shown into Mrs. Kee
dick's parlor on the afternoon of tlie
next day, anil after a few preliminary
exchanges of opinion on unimportant
matters, thn conversation was led
around to Christmas by the caller.
"I suppose Freddy receives quite a
number of gifts each Christmas," said
she.
"Oh, yes," replied Mrs. Keedick.
"He has a few relatives who always
remember him, but really the presents
we appreciate the most are those his
papa and I give him."
"That is because you know what
pleases liim best," said Mrs. Dilling-
ham.
"Yes, that's it. I haven't much pa
tience with the toys that his Uncle
Henry and his Aunt Polly bring."
"Why not?"
"Oh, 1 prefer something useful!
Xow that French clock on the mantel
there lias given me more satisfaction,
than any other present Freddy has
ever received at Christmas."
"Was that a Christmas present to
Freddy?" asked Mrs. Dillingham, in
surprise.
"Ves. We needed a clock in this
room, and 1 told Mr. Keedick that as
we had to get Freddy a Christmas
present we might a* well buy him a
clock."
"Does Freddy like it V"
"Well, he doesn't exactly go into
raptures over it, but 1 find it very use
ful indeed. Then Freddy has plenty
of trash given to him at Christmas,
so that it really doesn't matter. Then.
I like him to have'useful things, you
know. That writing-desk there was
another Christmas present to Fred
dy."
"But that is a lady's writing-desk."
"1 know it is. You see I had decided
that he ought to have a writing-desk
because it would be so useful, but
when I went to buy it, I could not find
j a desk suitable for a small boy. How
ever, 1 saw that lovely lady's desk for
sale at a bargain, and I thought it
would be sinful to lose the opportun
ity of getting it for Freddy, as T had
gone out for the very purpose of buy
ing him a desk."
"I see," replied Mr?. Dillingham.
"Then those lovely *ases in the par
lor, which you have affmired so often,
are also some of Freddy's Christmas
presents. The way we happened to
get them was this: Mr. Keedick could
not think of anything useful to buy
for FreiTdy last Christmas, and 1 hap
pened to think of those vases', which
1 had seen at such a very reasonable
price in a store down town. The par
lor was so bare of ornaments that we
needed them very badly, and so 1
went straight out and bought them
for Freddy."
Mrs. Dillingham rose togo, and as
Mrs. Keedick followed her caller to
the door, she continued to explain how
much more sensible it was give
children useful presents- rather than
gimcracks, which are broken in a
week or two.
Mrs. Dillingham went home, and
surprised her husband with the an
nouncement that >he had decided to
give Freddy Keedick a handsome sofa
pillow for Christmas.
Tile lllrilx' < li rl s I inn v
In Norway, the cold northern land,
the kind-hearted people wish to have
every creature rejoice at the glad |
Christmas season, and they think of
the dear little birds; so then- is al
ways a sheaf of wheat fastened hijrh j
on a pole in every farmyard, that
the birds may enjoy a good dinner !
of grain, and the little Norwegian <
children are Santa ( laus' helpers, (
when they help to bring < hristmas to (
the birds. Detroit Free Press.
@ooig|orTou) fo ttiryrmgrar
frirni! ® ooJ morroiu.for
r FrafflWfjj# mapprour.no man doth Irnout ,<
112 /' X Mlf(l)fr pf coiiip mitlj snnlf to bless,
Hv;w®I r l V%scournr, no man cangurss.
iiiorrom.ForfJafood uiorroiu.frirnd!
arr cm p. ns on iup iiirnft,
*\l_
Uluirliiir IVi^grs.
U»~»i4.#WW. V kkM«IA
THE MAN WHO SWORE OFF.
lie Is DrarrvlnK of ltpiprc< and Ei>
CO I! raise Hit- II t.
Tlie w/irld, if it knows its business,
will doff its hat to the man who
swore off New Year's day. Notwith
standing the guffaws of the crowd
at the liar when they hear about it,
that man, says the Chicago Daily
News, is worthy of respect and en
couragement. Having the desire to
mend his ways, he has braved the
jests of his associates, the sneers of
those whose unworthy methods he
hopes to forsake, and the curious
glances of casual acquaintances, in
order to exercise his will in resist
ing evil habits. His militant man
hood is worthy of praise. So, for
your own sake as well as for his,
do not laugh or sneer at liiin or
take a patronizing attitude toward
him because of your well-known an»l
unassailable virtue. Kxpress confi
dence in him and help him to stick
to his good intentions.
Why should not one resolve to for
sake one's bad habits on the first
day of the year? Why should not
one resolve to forsake them 011 any
oilier day? Having made the resolve
and entered upon the effort neces
sary to carry it out, why should one
be the subject of jests, since there is
nothing foolish nor dishonorable in
trying to improve one's methods of
life? If the school of experience
teaches valuable lessons, as every
one knows it does, why should not
one profit by these lessons? Habit
is mainly a relic of youth and ig
norance, so far as it is not formed
on good models or by the firm hands
of wise elders. To improve one's hab
its from year to year is the valuable
privilege of the man or the woman
who has been learning lessons in the
world's academy of hard knocks. To
take no advantage of those lessons
is to write one's self down a fool.
Pity, therefore, the man or the wom
an who never swears off.
ETIQUETTE.
Mrs. Saurs (suspiciously)—Well r
now, what do you want?
(ieorge de Gent—Nuthin', lady,
nuthin'! I)is is jus' me New Year'#
call.—Chicago Daily News.
(Sooil-Ily, Old Year.
The minutes are flying, the Old Year Is
o'ying.
The time will soon come when the ol<S
clock will clvime.
When the year, bent and gray, will pas*
quickly away,
Audi the New Year will come In the foot
prints of time.
Old Year, you will go as you came, in the
snow;
For that emblem of childhood is waiting
for all;
And when in old age you will pass from
life's stage,
The snowtlakes will cover the place
where you fall.
For many you hold what is dearer than
gold;
We will never forget you, although you
have lied.
For the New Year Is here, and so good-by,
Old Year;
We will number you now with the years
that are deadi
—Marguerite M. Hillery (age 14), in SL
Nicholas.
Those New Year Reaolntionai.
Meadowbrook—How line this world
! would be if we should all keep the
I good resolutions we make on New
1 car's day, instead of breaking tliem
■ all within a week.
Hempstead—Yes! 1 guess the few
days after New Year's, each year,
will be about as near as we will
ever get to the millennium.—Brook
lyn Eagle.
A Time of Peril.
Clarissa-—l'm always glad wlieo
New Year's day is safely over.
I* idelia N es; it is a saddening an
ni versa ry.
Clarissa—Oh, I don't mean that.
Clarenee and I always have a horrid
quarrel suggesting improvements in
each other's conduct. Detroit Free
l'ress.