lft I LE „ AN back in m y arm-chair as the snow-flakes soft and white % J|J Clothe the hilltops and the valleys in habiliments of white, ifl While the cutting winds of winter send their music far and wide* jf |T Disputing with the mellow bells the joys of Christmas-tide ; 1 seem to catch the echoes of the songs they sing on high, ft Beyond the mystic beauty of December's vaulted sky. il/ /M And again is told the story of the Christ-child's humble birth, ffTl \±. As I sit and. eager, listen by the dear old Christmas hcurti;. m \P THERE s music in the steeples, there are chimes deep in the.dells, 7# And the wild winds mingle gladly with the holy Christmas bells, •4K And I look beyond the window on the beauty of the snow. N/7 Recalling so.-no sweet Christmases in life's fair " long ago ; " M L What scenes come floating back along the winding ways of Time, (|j !y Like the fragrance of the flowers of an ever-cherished clime ; W Till my chamber fills with faces and I hear the sounds of mirth That brighten with infectious glee the happy Christmas hearth. (\ / J SEE six little stockings hanging in a pretty row. ' ifjn We hung them round this cherished hearth one twilight long ago, fit \lljl And we laughed and nestled closer 'neath the old roof-tree of home, |) And hardly slept for watching for old Santa Ciaus to come ; J J'lP I remember, ah! who does not? how the sunny Christmas morn \[k Revealed the wealth of treasure from the doll to drum and horn — jjT /K How the house was filled with laughter till it seemed to shake the earth, Wl While brighter glowed the fire upon the old Christmas hearth. ji /jrt fO-DAY there seems to come to me across the fleecy snow vj I St The beauty and the glory of that Christmas long ago, Jn A When shepherds watched their gentle flocks upon the hills afar, 111 /jjj In the heaven-tinted splendor of the East's transcendent star ; /rf fi® I see a mother bend above a matchless cherub face. (jy '/Sy And a radiance not earthly drives the shadows from the place; L 1/3/ Till Judea wakes to glory and new beauty crowns the earth, tf J|L And the choristers of Heaven sing about my Christmas hearth. T)| j ALD Time seems in his dotage and upon his tresses white jL JL Lie the snowflakes of a Christmas that has filled me with delight; (S fly Far and wide the bells are ringing, and their music, glad and free, M Tells the story of His coming on the land and on the sea ; li w And mingled with their anlhems is that chorus all divine m i That filled a mother's heart with joy one night in Palestine ; iV ) And I bow my head a moment as the children check their mirth, ffj l And silence comes to sanctify the dear old Christmas hearth, tu T BLESS the glorious dawning of this queenly winter day, jl It brings to all a gladness from a region far away, Am And while the bells are ringing over all this beauteous earth V i I bless the loves that cluster round the dear old Christmas hearth. 8) . T. C. HARBAUGH. ft A Christmas Comedy of Errors By ELISA ARMSTRONG BENOOUGH. 06WHKHK,' now, we are all ready for Christmas," said Mrs. Slickerby, as she climbed stiir ly down from the chair on which she had been standing to deck the chandelier with holly. "How surprised Josiah will be when he comes in, cold and tiled, to find the place looking so like holiday times. 1 declare, 1 have a good —ja " It's Your New Set of Furs!" mind to make a (ire in the stove just to piia-e him; he kept asking for it no long— though, cunt to tliink of it, lie hasn't mentioned it lately, though 1 always told him it only made a dirt lor me to elean up and the furnnee heated the whole piace anyhow. lie said his mother u-ed to have a nice lire in the stove when they came in evenings. Of i our.«e, »i c,j ; ,J ; ] m mother never siw a furnace n her life, and wouldn t have known it lroni a tele phone if »he had." She paused, «,'tii her hands on her hip*, to admire the re sult of her l.ihorn. "Yes, I gue.a | will lig -1 a lire in that utove, anyhow, it will •en i- at a text fur more remarks about the cold and a few more hints as to how I do ne. I a in v -i-t «t luis tin * Chrituia*. •losiah is .t good man, lull lie is as elo»e when it come* to a '|»e*tiun of money a. a potato U to it* akin." Khe was (mating about a* she talked, making her preparation* to lig>jt a lire in the brilliantly poll.lied atove "There 1 j" "• " ; • "•••'• '• I«»*d tha « . if «' »i.til il>t *ll tlfit I ~l| fiht 1 up with pit,«rs and tia- i, after all my Miking it tin- seam a- u j„ u , 4U » t ttaeh a man to lie caieful about a iiou*« any inori than vou can teach a hen tn pla) 'ii»«k k «<' >"« of the traab Li Z acid i hrutnia* i- not tha time for *. old ing, anyhow tin iu i w n-n you've g„t t , Jive »it!i a WMI It'a l»»t tot ilt* r\ r ,y A« tha I're to crackle eio'.-u u ||y, inqed rupb 'ird in tha corner n , i«*> * a -i ti«| .*•« ho puts it over his knees in the buggy this winter—and the furs are not in the house, I know that, for I've been Over every square inch of it in hopes I'd find Ihe d hidden 'em somewhere." She had i unfolded a wonderful combination of c >l - in wool which would have made Jo seph's coat a somber garment by compari son, and looked at it with great admira j tion. Then she carefully replaced it."l don't know as it's just necessary to keep it away up there—he wouldn't see it if it was right under his nose. Dear me, 1 certainly smell something burning. I | wonder if it can be my cake i.i the oven, I I had almost forgotten it, with all these other things on my mind." ' There comes Josiah now!" she cried ; ten minutes later, as she heard the tfobr of the sitting room open. "I'll stay out here and see what he does. Well, surely ; he must be pleased with the decorations i end the lire in the stove. It sounds as if i iie was doing a jig all over the room —and | him a professing Christian, too!" Five minutes later later she opened the fitting room door and stood transfixed on the threshold. "Why, Josiah Slickerby, what on earth is the matter?" she shrieked. "You are as black as a sweep and your beard is all singed, and what is ihat awful smell in here, and w-what is that you have in your hand?" "It's your new set of furs, that's what it is." retorted Josiah, grimly, "a good set u - furs that cost a lot of money, too, and looking like a cat that had been sitting on a can ot firecrackers when they went off!" "Hut how on earth could—" "1 had hid 'em in the stove, ; hat's how! you said you'd never make another fire in it now we've got a furnace, and 1 hid 'em in it. so's 1 could surprise you for ChrUt- I mas!" "Well, goodness knows, you have eur j prised me!" "Yes, and when I came into this room it was all full of smoke, and flames were bursting out of the stove door, it was so full, and i: I hadn't kept my presence of mind and hunted out that old thing to smother the flames with, the whole place mii;!it have been burned!" And he held ii| the afghan, which was scarcely in Let ter condition than the furs! IT «\ \ IIK HONK \\ l l lIOCT. < a|»t M ikeluve Uu'. •ureiy you dm't ■ lij. • • to K" under tint uuatletui, Mm* < I i ' M-• •» i. \«■ I Jo, SS bu tier •buui tUv mi*ll*(oe? I'llV 111 Ulll 111 llvlil'Kl-t , tint Malwl I* xi tbiiugbtful abuul b*r Ilelie lii wii«l way, i|c«r* • l»i«t Al».i> - | I In' |irir« Itn an m «• '•« «>' me • trip iluwu to««» tu liud A> i*~ • Luu. CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, DECEMBER 25, 1902. A Whole Dinner - wtd Mashed Potatoes By JESSIE LLEWELLYN. • TIIE holiday rush kept us late, and although thoroughly tired in mind and body I felt no relief upon be ing free to leave the crowded store and return to my cheap boarding house. Slowly 1 made my way among chattering clerks, comfortable matrons and fashion able young women to the rear exit. 1 was horribly conscious of my frayed jacket, and the lean leather chatelaine at my side. "Christmas!" 1 smiled bitterly. "Serves you right for not staying mar ried," I could hear the last harsh words of my maiden aunt as 1 left the sleepy village to seek independence and self-re spect. "Other women?" rang the voice, "well, men will be men; he makes a good living for you, don't he?" I heard the key turn in the great store door, but still I remained on the step, staling out at the lights tearfully rellect- "Please, Mum, Gimme a Nickel?" e e. I cannot, even now. remember IIOM it all happened * o«ifusedly 1 -iw the young ster* cm - grow round with wonder, and ths lit >d waiter siill'd an esel.im.iiorjr • nth, lor I, tiicie in the public rc»t*uiaut, I 111 ' it trainer', urn.. And this I lemeiiiiM-i dtitlintl) din man's most "I .r K v«- nie, little woman, for not find- I.IK >O.I MMMMM I havi- U#n -coming the! land fur >ou. Nut a wotd, not a woid of it *ll «... truth and it 1 l.ad that .a.k ling uld maid sunt—" A iuuirupted bun. It was the y< uhgstti '» A', i ei i 1* l*»it, he ltd IU« trut la. I CHRISTMAS HOLD-UP .SwS ' CHARLES MOREAU HARGER (J fln A 17HAT about getting through 1 \\Av toni B ht > driver?" 1 \>Vi- "It's all right, I guess, h Drifting some on the Lit -6 tie Cimarron, but that wou't do uiuen damage." r "It's 30 miles." "Well, that ain't much. This team's j good for it. Gain' to start right off, ma'am?" The anxious traveler returned to the fire in the uninviting office of the Mid . Continental hotel. She was brown -5 haired, cheery-faced, and evidently ac customed to looking out for herself. She . was bound for the Indian school at the other end of the stage line —a position > awaited her. [ "All aboard!" called the driver, and the passengers hurried into the three . seated carryall that served for a stage. , Ilie woman .sat beside John Carlin, the owner of Circle liar ranche. lie tucked the robes around her and remarked: "Mighty poor day for a pleasure ride." "Slightly," remarked his seat-mate, j smiling, "and you know what day it is?" | "\es, and we are likely to run over into | Christmas, for the roads may keep us out i until after midnight, ma'ain." "Call me .Miss Macon—l'm the new in- J stryctor." "Better be prepared for whatever hap j pens, Miss Macon; this is a tough stretch j cl country across the territory." i "Are the Indians bad?" ller eyes grew I big and wondering. i "\\ hites are a blamed sight worse than redskins. We can handle Indians." "But some good men go west —ve'ry good men!" The eyes grew softer as she recalled a memory of the days back east. "\es; but, blame 'em, they don't stay so." 1 he eyes flashed and she looked out over the broad prairie, stretching away in patches of brown and white to the 'far I horizon. Nor did she renew the conversa- I tion, and the handsome ranchman was sorry. 'lhe day wore on. They stopped at a cabin for lunch. They climbed long slopes and toiled through sandy wastes where in springtime would be rushing rivers. They rattled down the declivi ties of ravines and more than once the weary horses were stalled in the drifts that had been heaped among the dead I sunflowers and ragweeds in the draws. It j was a tiresome, cheerless journey, and the j five passengers kept mostly their own im | pressions of its discomforts. | In the late afternoon Miss Macon broke | the silence, taking up the thread of the | morning's discussion: "An old friend of (j ' _ " What About Getting Through Tonight ? " mine is in the west—he was a daring fellow, but a brave one." "Then he is fitted for the west. Such men are its pride—if they have the right nays." Ho added the afterthought and noticed that she started and studied liini kwnly, as if to be certain that he meant nothing of direct application-. "There is more than one kind of bravery," lie went on, more to keep up the conversation than because the thought was original. She did not answer, and the stage hur ried on through the gathering darkness. Once there was a coyote yell in the dis tance, and Carlin felt a glow of satis faction as the graceful form beside him leaned closer to his ulster, as if for pro tection. Suddenly, as they went rattling down a slope, the horses on the canter, the sunflowers standing on either side of the read like sentinels, there was a shot (ired and a cry of "Halt!" They halted. Then happened wi.at u ually happeu when a masked group assaults the stage, j and in a short time the live p&ssengers wKmj/l I 'MB®* 11 TIB .*■' x '• ® Js. ——> /Sonlu Cl.'ins ✓ k J JF -*~* f c * Iff ff' - f-. „ r«*' *»..• . t. %■ and the driver were standing in a lone some row in the struggling moonlight. "Hands up!" and their arms were ex tended toward the stars. Miss Macon, even in her terror, noticed that the con stellation of Orion was nearly overhead. And then the chief of the robbers came to her side. "Quick, ma'am, what have you got?" Something in the tone aroused her and she looked anxiously into the half-masked face of the handsome frontiersman w'ho bent toward her. "In New England men " Well, It Ain't Right." treat women with more oourtesy," she re torted. "You're from New England? What are you doing out here?" "I'm going to the agency—l'm Miss Ma con, the new —" The man stepped back as if he had been struck by a mailed hand. He motioned to his confederates to join him, but they llid not see his signal. With a quick action of impatience he swung his arm across his face and the mask was for an instant dis placed. Only for an instant, but it was time for the bright moonlight to fall on his clean-shaven features and for the woman gazing intently at him to realize that this was for her a time of fate. She gathered herself together with an effort that was worthy of a better cause, and stepping closer to the bandit whis pered one word. He, startled, trembled and obeyed her swift instructions to step behind the wagon, leaving the others to guard the four remaining passengers. "Oh, Frank, how could you?" she de- j manded, reaching up to the strong face i and lilting the mask. It was one she knew I so well in the old days. "Well, it ain't right," he admitted, J shame facedly. "Hut who cares?" "I care —everybody cares —your poor old mother sitting alone in the little farm- j house at Dan vers, cares. You don't know j how much she cares —and Anna cares!" j The man brushed his arm across his face as if his eyes hurt him. "Yes, 1 sup- j pose it's so. But things got mighty tough —I bad to do something. It's the first ; time. What can I do now?" "Go home, Frank," went on the wom an's low voice. "Go home to your moth- . er, and help her run the farm. He a man ; again." "And Anna —your sistei ?" "Frank, she has grieved for you all this time —she wants you now." "Hut," bitterly, "you will tell her about —about—this?" "I will do this, Frank. I will give you i two years to prove yourself. If you are i sincere, the secret will be yours and mine. : If you do not, 1 will tell them of to-night j and of —" , ( Siie turned toward the group they'had ' left in the moonlight beyond the wagon. ; i Ills eyes followed hers and grew large as he saw the transformation that had taken place. "Hands up!" Carlin's cool voice gave the order, and his revolver was pointed at them. The other robbers had lied. The chief was alone. The girl, heedless of tne summons, lift ed the mask to hide the face of the man beside her and then stepped in front of e lum. Carlin lowered his gun. "Get out of j t the way," he called. "He'll escape!" "No, he won't escape," was the calm r reply—"not now. 1 will speak for him. J Where are the others?" "Gone. We told them the chief had skipped and they were scared. They took all our things with 'em, though." j s "You must begin now," said the girl, n turning to the chief. "Understand?" He bowed his head. "I'll do it,"he J whispered, "honor bright." j I. "Go," she ordered, and, facing the piiz- j I ; 7\cd ranchman, held both his hands un . lil the other h»d vanished in the run (lower stalks. 00.-lin gluwid under tte ! | girl s touch, and cfceyed. ! "Do you belong to this—company?" he asked, u little bitterly, as she loosed his 1 | amx, now that it was too late. | "No, but you remember what you said a little while ago, 'tilftre is more than one | kind 01 bravery? " L A shrill whistle sounded oIT to the right I and suddenly stood before them the quar tette so recently de.nVted. The pas.->en : gera were covered bj tneir revolvers and I they were at the i*r.dits' mercy once . more. , Hut the masked chief stepped forward, . holding in his hand Carlin's watch and . pocketbook; he gave to the others their . belonging-. their watches, jewelry and re volver.v Carlin was the only one who had hidden his gun. it was all done so silently and quickly that the stageload could scarcely under , stand what was happening. When the last trinket had been distrib uted the masked chief bowed low. His tine mouth just showing beneath the fringe of black curled a little whether in fun or contempt none could tell. Merry Christmas! I am Santa Clans!" He bowed again, stepped back, bent his eyes on Miss Macon—and the stranger* had departed. ihe passengers, looking down at their watches, read the time—it was past mid night—Christmas morning. Ihe stage reached the end of its jour ney six hours late. Before it arrived Car lin had asked permission to call 011 Miss Macon and discuss the stiange events of the ride. "I am not used to receiving gifts at that time of night," said he. Though Carlin called and they talked over the night's happenings, she did not explain. There was a newspaper story of a crazy stage robber who gave back all he stole (you may have read it) and she did not correct that —not even when, a year later, Carlin made her his bride and claimed that he had received two Christ mas presents from the chief. Years afterward they visited New Eng land, the guests of Wieir brother-in-law, the mayor of Danvers. "Do you know," remarked Carlin, to his wife, "Frank has a line mouth—it reminds me of some one I have seen somewhere." She did not reply. A Similar Experience. Reeder (looking up from his newspaper) —Great Scott! Here is a yarn about a man who spent a night in a pit with n Bengal tiger. Just imagine how he must have suffered! Hennypeck—l can easily do that—l know all about it. For two weeks before the holidays 1 was obliged to face the uni ted demands of my wife and seven grown daughters lor Christmas money.—Judge. A SIK'HT for tHe GOIIM. The Rlrl you'd give the world to win. To show you how she holds you dear. Now fondly ties beneath your chin A r.ecktle you can never wear. —N. Y. Worldt ADVANTAGE I\ SIZE. Tommy—Ain't you goiu' to hang up jour stocking, Nellie? His H:g Sister—No, Tommy. I'm too old. Tommy—Yes, but the older one gets the moie it will hold. ll i h Sain tat lon. Sho r.e'er will speak to him, This stupid youth so bland. She stood beneath the mistletoe, IK' merely shook her hand. —Washington Star. Gre nit Kxpectat lonx. The Minister—Well, Willie, what do yoa expect Santa Claws is going to bring you this year? Willie—Oh, a lot of things that ma needs around the house. —Chicago Times- Heiald. < oulilii't Vwny. Charley Kasyman—Well, Willie, \ our sister has given hei-elf to me for a Christ man present. What do you think of that? Willie- lluh! That's what ihi dona tor Mr. Hrown last Christmas, and he gave l.er biclv to herself before Ka-ter.— N. V. Times. 11