U ~ . r ~ rs J]
fc
A CHRISTMAS
TOBOGGAN
——a—■ ■■■ —a—aata—a———s
By MANDA L. CROCKER
h r
a sheltered cleft on the moun-
II tain side where the scraggy pines ■
*** made polite obeisance to tneir j
hare-headed neighbors, the Half-way I
house had stood, a harbinger of com- |
I'ort, for a score of years.
And now, though the old stage lay
Totting in the valley and the traveler
thundered along by rail beneath its
very foundations, the friendly gables
seemed beckoning to imaginary guests, j
To-night, too, the pine branches j
crackled merrily on the wide hearth, |
as if the snubs of a progressive pub- j
3ic were not worth minding, lighting |
•up the long, low room in the gloaming j
of the Christmas Eve.
Two women conversed in tender j
monotone in the cheery illumination, !
and the elder was saying: "The paper j
cannot be found and, of course, the i
property goes to your Uncle Hermon."
The other rose wearily from her
place before the fire and stood lean
ing her head against the black old
fashioned mantel.
"Then uncle really intends taking I
our home away from us?" she said, in
terrogatively, looking down into the
patient mother face.
"Certainly, my daughter," came the
Teply in cheerful resignation,"and he
expects to take possession soon, too.
But your father always made much
■of the Christmas time ana, for his !
asake, we will keep the day gladly, you
jknow."
"Yes, I know,"and the girl turned
away toward the next room, tucking
up her sleeves with little gingerly
thrusts as she went.
The brace of partridges Brother Ned
had snared the day before made a ■
pretty picture as they waited, plump
and round, for the last turn of the
skewer. After they were ready for
the morrow's roasting the tall, queenly
a?irl went over to the open doorway a
moment to contemplate the pictur
esque landscape she had loved all her
life.
"Even the scrubby oaks are restful
tip here," she mused, "and I don't see
how I am to bring myself to be turned
out like —a beggar!"
Making a sudden dash at her eyes
■with her handkerchief, she resumed:
"Of course, if mother is bent on hav
ing a sunny Christmas in the face of
it all, why, I won't be shadowy."
Hearing a cheery whistle outside she
continued: "Ned doesn't care about it
—boys don't. O yes" (correcting the
uncharitable thought), "he does care,
but not as I do."
The mother rocked to and fro be
fore the fragrant blaze, humming an
old refrain. The dusk gathered
" Who Cares for His Charity ?"
oomily in the corners of the room
lile the dancing light glinted along
e smoky rafters as if eager to dispel
thought of loneliness.
Mrs. Cameron glanced upward. In
e years agone, when the rafters were
t so smoky and the dear old rooms
t so dingy as row, the Half-way
use was the social hub of the moun
ti side. But now—
V sturdy lad of 12 years came bust
g in with his arms full of holly and
» pockets full of mail. *
"The road down to the village is aa
smooth as glass," he said, brushing j
the snow flakes from his clothes onto
the bright hearth. "Horses will have
to be sharp shod to make the slide to
morrow, I know."
Handing some letters to his mother,
he began to plan for a "jolly good
time" the next day, while he sepa
rated the sprays of the glossy ever
green.
Attracted by his festive manner, his
sister volunteered to help, and fell to
sorting the crimson clusters for deco
rating the table and brightening up
the rooms on the morrow.
"Of course he can't care much." she :
whispered, rebelliously, watching the '
satisfaction shining on the boyish i
face.
"We'll have popcorn and chestnuts,
and browned birds and—everything,"
cried Ned, as his plans bubbled over.
"Everything," repeated his sister,
bitterly, "and then by and by have
nothing."
But Ned did not hear, for his mother
was saying: "Here's a note from
\
"Mr. Fulton Gave It to Me."
Cousin Jessie," while a smile lighted
up her careworn face.
Then she passed the paper to Edith,
murmuring: "All winter long in the
dear old house."
"Papa has concluded to let you stay
in the house until spring, as he can
not find a tenant before that time. He
will stop on his way to Fulton's in the
morning and talk with you about the
matter," was what Edith read. Ihen
she laid the slip of paper on her
brother's palm, wondering if by that
time anything would happen that ihey
would not have togo at all.
Ned tossed the note into the ma
ternal lap contemptuously and his sun
ny face darkened. "Who cares for his
charity extension, I'd like to know?"
he exclaimed. "It's only because he
can't do otherwise and make it pay."
His lip curled disdainfully and quiv
ered into silence. He did "care," after
all, poor little brother. And Edith's
heart smote her as she kissed his
flushed cheek in sisterly sympathy.
After all, he had been braver than she.
"It's a veritable toboggan." ex
claimed Hermon Cameron's wife as
the fine team cantered up the treach
erous "slide." "Really I am afraid of
an accident."
"Fudge, Mrs. Faintheart; what can
happen?" laughed her husband, gayly,
as he cracked his whip over the sleek
bays.
Truly, it did not seem possible for
anything to happen out of harmony
I with the lovely holiday. Nevertheless,
I a few minutes later the serenity of
! the day was all broken up for the
I Camerons. Frightened at something
I by the roadside, the horses became
| unmanageable and, in a twinkling, be
coming detached from the sleigh, ran
wildly around the upper turning,
throwing Mr. Cameron heavily to the
ground.
The impetus of the accident sent the
vehicle spinning down the glassy in
cline, its occupants perfectly helpless
to stay their mad flight.
The Fultons, startled to see a run
away team dash into their grounds,
ran out to recognize it as that of their
| friend, Cameron, and ill a short time
| they were bending solicitously over
j the unlucky man who, prone on the
Christmas snow, was moanir.g uncon
| sciously.
'We will take him up to the wid
i ow's," said Mr. Fulton, glancing in the
I direction of the friendly gables, "while
| you go for the doctor," addressing his
, son, "and then we will look for the
I rest of them."
I Prudence Cameron prepared a coucb
CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, DECEMBER 17, 1903.
for her unfortunate brother-in-law,
with a queer sensation tugging at her
heartstrings. He had meant to stop,
but not in this manner. Surely there
was a Providence in it.
"Here are some papers we picked
up," said Mr. Fulton, laying a roll in
the widow's iiand. "They must belong
to him. Examine them and see. I
haven't my glasses with me."
In her own room Mrs. Cameron
looked the papers over. "Of course
they're his," she mused, unrolling the
grimy outer wrapper. Unfolding the
inside paper she read: "I hereby give
and bequeath the Half-way house to
my sister-in-law, Prudence Cameron,
and —"
She read no further. Down at the
bottom of the instrument was the pe
culiar chirography of her injured broth
er-in-law.
"It was never lost!" she exclaimed;
"but Hermon never meant that 1
should see this."
Putting the precious document away
carefully, she went downstairs with a
queer little smile triumphant on her
patient face.
The physician and Hermon's family
had arrived and the wife was saying:
"We went right on tobogganing down
to the uneven road at the lower turn
ing. Then the cutter went to pipces
against a tree and we were upset, but
not hurt."
She ended with a hysterical laugh,
as she looked toward the white-faced
husband.
"Stunned a considerable, bruised a
Vit, but fairly ready for his Christmas
-llnner," said the doctor as he took
his leave.
In the kitchen Edith surveyed the
brace of partridges and wondered if
there was "enough togo round." But
while she cogitated the Fuitona came
in with a bountiful dinner.
"We planned for company," laughed
jolly Mrs. Fulton, "and we're bound to
have it, even if we meet them half
way." And soon the Christmas cheer
filled the lonely old rooms.
In the midst of the merry Christmas
dinner Prudence Cameron looked
across the table at her brother-in-law
who, pillowed up in an arm-chair, was
munching a browned bird, and said,
playfully: "Christmas gift, Brother
Hermon."
[ "I meant to have brought some
thing," be stammered, in confusion,
"but —"
"Thank you, I know you did," inter
rupted Prudence, her face glowing
i with victory, "and it is all right. Mr.
I Fulton gave it to me—the will, I mean
—and I thank you again."
Had the house tumbled down the
mountain side Hermon Cameron could
not have been more surprised. Ho
1 sank back among the pillow;s with a
suppressed groan. "My heart!" he
I said, faintly. "My heart!"
"You are hurt more seriously than
j we thought for!" cried the B'ultons, in
alarm.
"Oh, no," murmured Hermon. "I
am just a little overcome."
I And so it proved. But, although
he revived and chatted with his friend,
| Fulton, over the toothsome plum pud
ding, he did not look Prudence Cam
eron's way again that day.
And that night Ned sat before the
! crackling fire on the broad hearth,
while the dancing light touched his
ruddy face and glinted up along the
smoky rafters, and whispered between
his palms: "Dear Lord, we are so
thankful for the bussed Christmas
tide; but just now we are thankfnller
! for the upset of Uncle Hermon!"
MORE: »A\GEK AIII-:AD.
I I Jrl I jl
| y ||' |
"Well, I'm thankful Thanksgiving's
i past," soliloquized Mr. Gobbler, "but
hero comc3 December."
I 1. 1
Mr. Busby's Christmas
Gift
i _i
yrVffcßS. BUSBY was finishing a
pair of "bootees" for her
daughter's newest baby. |
screwing up her moutii with the in- j
tricacy of the pattern. Mrs. Griggs
in the opposite rocker watched her.
"I guess I must be going," she an
nounced, finally."l only ran into
wish you Merry Christmas. I won't
see you to-morrow. Call Christinas a
holiday! I've two people to coak for
usually—Christmas it's twenty!"
"And you'd not be content on o'h'r
days, if you hadn' s'many then," re
turned Mrs. Busby. "We'll go to
Tom's, as usual. He married a c ol'ege
girl, and I told him: 'These college
girls may know a sight more about the
structure of the human body than the
rest of us, but they don't know half
as much about making it comfort
able!' "
"And now she has you come over
every Christmas and see what a good
housekeeper she is!" finished Mrs.
Griggs, knowing the story as well as
her hostess.
"M'hm. Can't you stay?"
"Thank you, no. 1 hoped you'd
show me Mr. Busby's Christmas gift."
"It's upstairs, and I'm afraid he'll
come in. Ho hasn't seen it, though."*
"So you've got ahead of him,
finally?"
"I have. It beats all the way that
man finds things out and then teases.
Last year I got him a set of Dickens,
and kept it hidden three weeks be
tween the mattresses of the spare
room bed. The night before Christmas
I was thinking how I'd surprise him
when he said, smiling like: 'That's a
mighty nice set of books in the spare
room bed, Cynthy; It's a pity to keep
'em there, with the bookcase so han
dy,' he says."
"But he hasn't found out this year?"
"No; I guess he was ashamed of be
ing so mean. I've seen my present,
though."
"But I thought you said it was kind
of mean to try to find out —"
"Oh, that's different. My present is
the handsomest kind of a wrap, Mrs.
Griggs. I was over at Parker's one
"Choose for Yourself."
day and that head clerk he called me
aside and let out that Mr. Busby was
going to buy me one of those nice
fur-trimmed coats, and wouldn't I like
to choose it, without him knowing it?
So I chose —and won't I have a joke on
Mr. Busby to-morrow?"
"That was real nice of that clerk."
"It was, and seeing how 1 could trust
him, I asked him to advise mo which
one of those nice warm bathrobes to
choose for Mr. Busby—l just couldn't
decide between the red one and the
green one. He said —"
"Oh, by the way, he told me a real
funny story about a bath robe. He
says a lady wanted to buy her hus
band one for Christmas and asked his
' advice. He told her to wait until to
morrow, as some new ones were com
ing in then, and —"
"Why, that must have been the very
day I wa3 in; though I didn't see any
new ones when I went back the —"
"M'hm. And he just called her hus
band in that night and told him to
choose for himself, so he wouldn't
have to exchange it the day after
Christmas. Her husband thought, it
the best joke yet to think what a laugh
he'd have on her when she gave it to
him. So he chose a blue one and—
why, what's the matter, Mrs. Busby?"
Without a word, Mrs. Busby fled up
the stairs, returning a moment later
with a blue bath robe in her trembling
grasp.
"Did you ever in your life know any
body as mean as that clerk?" she
gasped.
ELISA ARMSTRONG RENGOt'GH.
11111 That Benin 'Em All.
| "You mny talk ot 13111 Jone-sand Bill Walk
er. Bill Brown:
j There's a bill that beats ail of them some
where In town:
I A bill that is waiting Cor all of us still.
; And the name of this graat onu is Christ
i mas 13111!"
Xot to Be CnuKlit Attain.
"My wife says she doesn't want me
1 to give her a solitary thing for Christ
j mas this year."
I "Are you going to take her at her
| word?"
[ "Not much! I did that once. I'm
j an advocate of peace whenever it can
i be had with honor." —Chicago Record-
Herald.
llt.i ('nictitation.
Mamma —But these cheap toys break
j so easily.
Papa—Exactly. Johnny is never
I satisfied until he breaks his toys, so I
j thought I'd give him something that
won't give him much trouble. -Brook-
I lyn Life.
The Prince of Peace
At His Name Every Knee Stall
Bow and Every Tongue Confess
B 1
VERY country of earth offers
i an apotheosis in the person of
some great man who distin
guished himself in some great crisis
in its affairs. Switzerland idolizes
William Tell, Russia Peter the
jreat, Prussia her Frederick the Great,
France her Napoleon, Italy her Gari
[ oaldi, England her Alfred the Great
| ind the United States her Washington.
1 It is food for reflection that in thfi
j selections of heroes and in hero wor
! ship ii is an invariable rule, not a sin-
Isle exception being known in all his
j lory, that choice is made of one who
! ias crowned his life with deeds done
| n battle. By and through the flash
| of the sword alone has immortality of
| fame been won by mortals.
The scimiter of Mohammed and not
| iiis Koran conquered Arabia, Armenia
! and the Balkans. Moses was a law
| siver, but he also was a mighty war
rior and led his followers on from
j r>ne victory to another. It is he and
; Joshua and David and John Hyrcanus,
all intrepid soldiers, who have made
! glorious the history of the Jewish peo
ple. The history of Mohammedanism
iis written in blood and Omar and
Baladin stand out prominent in its rec
ords. So with other nations. Deeds,
deeds only, and these calling for great
holocausts of human lives, to -make
imperishable some individual name.
! Christmas day offers an anomaly,
however, in the history of men who
have lived and wrought wonders. The
Christ was a man of peace, deploring
| war. What is yet more strange, He
is glorified through His words and not
through His deeds. The Heavenly
voice said to the simple shepherd on
the plains of Bethlehem: "Behold!
I bring you glad tidings of great joy,
which shall be unto all the people;
for unto you is born this day in the
! city of David a Saviour which is Christ
the Lord." And the accompanying choir
with ineffable melody sang the re
frain: "Glory to God in the highest
and on earth peace."
The Christ-birth and the Christ-life
stand forth the opposite of all other
I great lives that have filled pages in
! earth's history. Born of humble par
; entage in a stable, amid the lowing
; of kine and the raucous complaining
1 of discontented cattle, reared in the
far-away bleak hills of Galilee, en
! imaged daily in sawing logs into bohrds,
: or planing the latter into smoothness,
Ho steps forth suddenly, at the age
of 28, as a teacher of righteousness.
Xot among strangers, but in the midst
of His own people, He appeared, and
they were astounded at the profundity
of His knowledge. As though to per
suade themselves that they were not
mistaken as to His identity, they asked
of one another: "Is not this the car
penter's son?"
j His life work was brief, but four
short years! Compare this with the
i years spent by other illuminati of
| ?arth in perpetuating their fame.
| Without use of money, or influence, or
i lumbers, and without courting favor
jof the rich and powerful, He went
i lbout from town to town preaching
His gospel of peace and ,love. Those
svho gathered to Him were poor men—
ishermen, publicans, small farmers or
lerdsmen, rather.
The waters of the sea of Judea were
1 Silt little stirred by His presence. So
little was His presence felt that no
I ;ontemporaneous historian of His
| ;inie, outside of His immediate follow
ers, makes any reference to His life
:>r His works. Josephus, a voluminous
ind very just historian, ignores Him
ltterly. No record has been found at
& & 3v c:tnt of (Christmas WM
. T WATCIT the glowing embers as tho moments tiit away, |
I For Christmas will bo with us In the mornlnir cold and gray, <l/
o fis3 The win ds sleep in the valieysand the stars shine on the snow
The whilo I dream of Christmascs that vanished long ago;
755 L I see the tiny st< eklngs liangim; by the ruddy hearth,
lfmStlf In every room tl is holy night is hushed the childish mirth,
fiWAsr For the little ones ure sleeping 'neath the winter's axure dome, fIWT
jp* A-dreamiug of the happy hour when Santa Ciaus shall coine. r
7 70110 would not for a moment wander to the Konn Ago
* w Vv To see the little stockings hang-ng in a cotv row?
<&rY , Who would not draw the coverlid from each well cherished foe* v
Qftjiraf And gaze upon the children in their innocence and grace? \
irQfiZ 1 soe them sweetly sleeping and about thetn all Is still,
They do not hear tho jingling bells upon the whitened hill; 1
Cheek 10 cheek they lie in slumber, angrl guarded, as 1 know, jSfSL,
A vision of somo cunstmas fair that llitted long ago. "<£?■J
V 771U0 plucks n<!; from the vanished Past some Christmas like to tki® ?
x s Vv Who feols not still upon Ills Jirow home holy Christmas kiss?
j The bells that ling to-night beneath the hky's star diadem */r^r
,uoro than th.it sweet, storv of the Ha he of Hethlehem:
They bring to us from out the the loves we cherish yet, ft*
A Their tones recall the Cbristmascs we never quite foiget, v*
1 PV We've but to listen now to hear t he bells across 1 he snow 1
That ring once more deep in our hearts as in the Long Ago. /Jj^
fgtJT in the chimes to-night I bear a music not of enrth—
*' The star-born chorus that proclaimed tho humhleChrist-chlld's birth.
And a sweet. Immortal vision comes from Judah faraway jmr Late
Where dawned In grandeur and In love the world's first Christmas Day; nP* ™B
u Methinks I hear a tapping at my window framed in white. , *
jyl "I'is not the bells which on the hills ring out. this winter night; \
Nay. surely 'tis a tapping, rising soft above the din, i
And, dreaming, I tho casement seek to let tho Christ-child in. jtffL
K' T. C. IIA Kit A TGII. JQWgS
Rome of Ills death, so little Impres
sion did it make upon the mind of
Pilate.
True it is that He healed sick men,
cleansed lepers, raised the dead and
cast out devils. But these were sub
ordinate and incidental only to His
life-work, which was that of proclaim
ing a new gospel—that men should
love one another. He made no pa: arte
of miracle-working. It was only when
the suffering were brought into His
presence that He made exercise of His
divine power in healing.
He died the most shameful, disgrace
ful death known to His generation.
In his extremity He was deserted even
by His most devoted followers. He
trod the wine-press of agony alone.
Yet this Man of Sorrows has con
quered the world. Other illustrious
men lived out their little day and all
that remains of them Is the memory
of their deeds. They sought to build
up material kingdoms; Christ's realm
is in the hearts of men. His teachings
have survived the overthrow of a
thousand kingdoms of earth. His
words to-day are as potent to sway
men as when they came burning from
His lips. All the higher civilization of
earth yields Him reverence and
homage.
Age but serves to strengthen the
might of His power and to confirm the
promise of the prophecy: "At the
name of Jesus every knee shall bow
and every tongue confess."
WILLIAM RO3SER COBBE.
HIS "CHRISTM AS HOPE.
j I i-jri i""*
1 \2tsi I I "
k
"Whatcher goin' to git for Qhrlst
mas?"
"Par promised me a lickin', but I've
prayed Santa Claus ter make bim fer
git it."
MKEI) HIS I.OXG STOCKINGS.
"Do you want mamma to put yott
in long trousers, Tommy?"
"Not till after Christmas, sis."