ss Betty's /istmas Gift »BY HOPE DARING * I Bee! To-day is—yes, it is the ast two weeks from to-morrow S uas!" etty Dane, spinster, stood be lendar which hung on her slt -n wall. She was a plump lit in, upon whose face a faded -Ih still lingered. Her brown ire shy, and the brown hair lack from her brow was threaded lver. Istmas!" she repeated, as she iack to her rocking chair. "I sup- Christian woman ought not to say thing, but I dread the day,"and Jetty wiped her eyes. ■uffht to be ashamed, and I am," ent on, rocking to and fro, "but eadful never to have a Christmas >lks who have a family. Now I'm opining because I'm an old maid, aever saw the man I'd think of, not >ars, a«yway," the dull pink in her s burned to crimson. "I haven't ative in this part of the country, am so shy and bashful that I never lose to people. Sometimes I envy ie, women, I mean, who get the y, dainty gifts that love prompts." } sat a few minutes in silence, then ned her half-articulate murmur: I was poor—l mean needy, for I lot rich —the church would send me "I'ES, JACK, 1 AM HETTY DANE." -a basket Christmas morning. Well, I'm thankful that I don't need that, and I •Always give something to help fill the baskets as well as money for the Sun • day school Christmas tree. Mrs. Dea con Green will send me a mince pio. She has done it every Christmas for ten years, and I always send her a plate of my crullers. I will send Mrs. Carpen ter a chicken and a few other things; • ?he will return an elaborate note of ithanks, every line beginning with a capital letter. There's Niece Tillie. She never fails to send me the new baby's picture. On the rare years when iihere is no new baby she sends me a icard. Such things are all well enough, ;but they don't mean—" Miss Betty stopped, rose, and walked aimlessly into the adjoining dining room. After a few moments she re turned to her former position. A de termined look was upon her face. "I'll do it. Why shouldn't I? Th*> ■day after to-morrow I'll goto the city, and I will buy dainty little things, such presents as a woman ought to have at ■ Christmas. I will pretend to myself that tfhey mean the love I am so slow learn ing to live without." On the morning of the second day fol lowing Miss Dane left the village on tthe nine o'clock train. She did not re ftv.rn until four. As she walked briskly homeward 'from the depot, her arms filled with ipackages, she was overtaken by Mrs. Hall. "Why, lands sakes, Miss Hetty! You don't mean to say as you've been to the city, do you? I didn't know as you v,as jcaloulatin' on goin'." "Well, I have been there," Miss Dane •.answered, a little defiantly. "What'd you go for? You've got a •new hat already, and your cloak was rew last winter." "I went to do som* shopping." "Land sakes! What'd you buy?" Miss Betty threw back her head, her Thrown eyes staring straight ahead of jher. • 'I bought Christmas gifts. Good-by, Mrs. Hall," and, turning a corner, the half-frightened spinster hurried down a . street that led directly to her own door. Mrs. Hall looked after the plump lit tle figure, baffled curiosity depicted on her face. "Miss Betty Is altogether too close mouthed. It ain't becomin' to a wom an as lives alone." Miser Dane soon reached her own home. It was fast growing dark, and as she entered the sitting-room the gipam of the coal stove seemed like a welcome. "I'm glad to be back, but I am not sorry I went." she thought as she care fully laid her parcels on the bed. "Jt is going to be a cold night. I'll start thp fires in the dining-room and kitchen i befott'l put thege things away." A little later she stood by the dresser, the shades lowered, and her purchases set out before her. After her usual fash ion Miss Betty communed with herself: "You were foolish. Betty Dane, to pa/ a dollar and a half for a china cup and saucer when you have more than two dozen of them now. But it is a beauty," touching the fragile porcelain with a caressing finger, "and there's nothing nicer lo give a woman than china. There are two handkerchiefs. They are the sheerest, softest linen, and the em broidery Is beautiful. 1 am not so sure about the book. The girl at the store said 'The Blue Flower' was one of the best-selling books of the season. But I did something worse than buying these things." Miss Betty paused. Her eyes spar kled, and she trembled with excite ment. "You ordered two dozen red carna tions sent up to yourself on Christmas eve. Yes, you did. Betty Dane. Well, I suppose you had a right to, only it's too bad there is no one else." With a sigh she commenced her prep arations for supper. The momentary depression passed as her mind dwelt upon her day's outing. When she sat down to her supper Miss Betty was at peace with all the world. The table was spread with snowy linen, glistening silver and pretty china. There was a quaint, old-fashioned sil ver teapot of fragrant hyson, bread, a pat of yellow butter, creamed potatoes, thin slires of pink ham. a dish of black berry jam. and a plate of rich dark fruit cake. The windows of the dinin<r-room faced the side street. In her abstraction Miss Betty had forgotten to lower the shades. She glanced that way nervously when the door bell rang. When she opened the hall door the light from the lamp in her hand fell upon a fair girlish face framed round with sunny hair. Miss Betty recognized her caller as one of the teachers from the village school. "Good evening, Miss Nesbit. Will you walk in?" Florence Nesbit followed the mistress of the house to the sitting-room. As soon as she was within the room the girl began speaking: "Oh, Miss Dane, my errand is a strange one! You know lam a stranger here, and I have been so homesick! I haven't any home—my mother went away from me a year ago. I looked in your window as I walked by. You looked so cozy and homelike, I just came into ask you if would board me." "Board you! Why. I never thought of taking boarders. What put it into your head?" Florence's lips quivered. "Just be cause you were alone, like myself. I ■wouldn't be any trouble and —oh ,Miss Dane, I could be so happy here with I you?" "Where do you board?" "With Mrs. Elmer. There is to be a vacation of two weeks at. the holidays, : and 1 must stay there." Miss Dane recalled what she knew of Mrs. Elmer's housekeeping and shud dered. "You poor child! Of course you can come here. There is the other bedroom downstairs, always warm, and the place opposite me at table. Why, Miss Nesbit. I believe they have been waiting for you." | Florence threw both arms round the other's neck. "I can't thank you; there are no words to tell you what it means jto me. I walked by your window three | times before I could get courage enough I to knock! Oh, you don't know how glad I am! It is like a beautiful Christmas present." j Miss Betty started, remembering her own longing for Christmas remem brances. Would not this girl's pres ence in the house be to her, in her lone- I liness, a gift that would partake of the | Christmas spirit? The days went by quickly. Much to Miss Betty's surprise she found herself busy with preparations for the coming ! holiday season. There were the children in Florence's j room. Miss Betty became almost as en j thusiastic regarding the surprise plan ; ned for them as was the girl teacher, j Then Miss Betty not only gave her usu ; al contribution of money for the Sunday I school tree, but she promised togo with | Florence and help trim it. The basket j for the church poor was filled to over j flowing. To the one for Mrs. Carpen [ ter Miss Betty added one of the hand- CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, DECEMBER 22, 1904. kerchiefs she had purchased for her self. "I suppose it is foolish to send a wom an in her circumstances such a nice one," she said, in a shame-faced way to Florence, "but women like —well, they like pretty gifts on Christmas." Florence bent her sunny head and kissed Miss Betty. "It is dear instead of foolish. Why, Miss Betty, that is the Christmas spirit, giving the best." The day before Christmas was clear and cold. There was no snow, but the earth lay brown and bare in the grasp of the frost king. Just as the shades of evening were beginning to fall Miss Betty emerged from the church where she had been all the afternoon. "Come home to supper in an hour, dear," she called back to Florence, who stood in the doorway, her sunny head outlined against a mass of dusky ever greens. Florence nodded a smiling as sent, and Miss Betty hurried on. She stopped for the mail and found a card from the express office. Calling there she received the package from the flor ist. "I am so glad I ordered the carna tions," Miss Dane said to herself. "Florence will be delighted with them. In the morning she shall take a few over to Miss Bliss, who is sick. I know Florence will be pleased with the cup and saucer. It seems almost Providen tial that I bought it.for she does love pretty china. And I'm glad I have that other handkerchief for our minis ter's wife. Mrs. Perry is a real lady, and she don't have any too many of the pretty things women like." Miss Betty was home by that time. In a trice she had the stoves open and the kettle on. As she took the scarlet car nations from the box and inhaled their spicy fragrance, a gurgling laugh broke from her lips. "What a dunce you were, Betty Dane, togo and buy yourself Christmas pres ents! Why, I have given them all away but the book, and I wish there were some one to whom I could give that. I have learned that the blessedness of Christmas in is giving, not in getting." She soon had the coffee and the water for the oysters on the stove. As she brought a dish of salad from the pantry she heard the door bell ring. Miss Dane went forward and opened the door. A man's voice asked: "Is Miss Florence Nesbit in?" "Miss Nesbit will be here in a few minutes. Will you walk in and wait for her?" "Indeed I will, ma'am. I am the child's uncle, and I have just come home from a long stay abroad to find that my poor sister lost all her money before her death. The idea of Florence teaching school when I've more money than — Eh! Why, you are Betty Dane!" Miss Betty looked up into the bronzed bearded face. "Yes. Jack; I am Betty Dane!" The man came a step nearer. "Betty, I was a hot-headed fool in the old days. You were right to throw me over and not to answer my letter, but it hurt. It hurts yet. Betty, for I have never ldveo any other woman." The little spinster had grown very pale. Should she speak? It cost her a great effort to put aside her fatal shy ness, but she did it. "I never knew there was a letter. Jack; it did not reach me. I have been true to your memory all these years." Florence came five minutes later. She found Miss Betty in the arms of her uncle. Jack Patterson. It took some time to explain matters. The delight of the girl almost equaled that of the elderly lovers. It was while they were at supper that Miss Betty looked up to say: "Oh! I am so glad I bought that book! You don't understand. Jack, but I've a Christmas present ready for you." Mr. Patterson's eyes twinkled. "That is fine. I am sorry. Betty, that I have nothing to offer you, nothing but love." Glad tears dimmed Miss Betty's sight. Her heart's hunger was satis fied. The perfect human gift—the im age of the Gift that brought Christmas to the world—was hers.—Washington Home Magazine. Save Us from Our Friends. Once upon a time a man who had experienced a prosperous year in busi ness thought it would be a gracious thing to share his good fortune with his wife, so at Christmas he presented her with the finest diamond ne-klace he could purchase. When the neigh bors saw it they set their heads to gether and decided that the man had made the gift for the purpose of keep ing peace in the family. They won dered what his wife had caught him at, and each invented a bit of scandal to fit the case. Moral—The easiest thing in this world i.i to be misunderstood.—J. J. O'Conp*", in Town Topics. A Christmas Nuisance. Felice and I, we nev«r meet From one year's end unto another; I seldom think of her, and she Has precious little use forme. Yet every Christmas we repeat That awful gift-exchanging bother; We're fettered to it, wrist and wrist Bach has the other on her "list," And 'though we're both heart-sick of It We neither one would dare to quit, ' —By Susie M. Best, in Town Topic*. Hard on Brown. "Jones has it in for Brown and is planning an awful revenge upon him at Christmas." "Going to send him an infernal ma chine?" "No. He's going to give Brown s children a graphophone."—Denver Times. Thoughtful. "How kind of papa!" j "What's he sent?" "A quantity of presents for baby, | and on each are directions what to do j if he makes himself sick with it! And here are the medicines, too!"—Brook i lyn Life. HIS CHRISTMAS "NIXIE." The Experience of a Post Office Clerk at the Holiday Season. The "Nixie" clerk —the one to whom goes all mall with insufficient or illeg ible addresses—took from his desk in a quiet corner of the post office a tiny, rumpled envelope. "I never came across a Nixie that was addressed to anyone I knew ex cept this one. l>ast Christmas the let ters began to pile in as usual, ad dressed to Santa Claus. I reckon I get a hundred every year. On Christ mas eve 1 was working late, and wa3 very sad and lonely here in my cor ner. There was a great rush at the other windows of the office, and the mails wer9 loaded with Christmas gifts and greetings. A merry crowd rushed through the corridors and laughter sounded all around, but a great shadow of sorrow rested over me, and my eyes burned as I bent over my work. Finally the messenger brought me the last few Nixies of the day, and laid them on my desk. 1 took up the first one mechanically. Attached to it was a note from Carrier No. 34: " 'This was given me by a little girl at 302 Walnut street.' "My blood tingled when I read It, for that was my own home. The en velope was a small one, addressed to 'Santa Claus, North Pole.' I recog nized my own little girl's cramped writing. I thought I had a right to open it, as I was her Santa Claus, al though she did not know it. This is the letter." He carefully spread it out, and i-eld it up so i'. could be read. "Dear Santa Claus: We are very sad at our home this year, and I don't want you to bring me anything. I-ittle Charlie, my brother, went up to Heaven last week, and all I want you to do when you come to my house is to take his toys to him. I will leave them in the corner by the chim ney, his hobby-horse, and train, and every thing He will be lost up in Heaven with out them, specially his horse. He always enjoys riding it so much. So you just take them to him, and you needn't mind leaving anything to me. If you could give papa something that would make him stop crying all the time, it would be the best you could do for me. 1 hear him tell mamma that only eternity could cure him. Could you give him some of that? Be sure to take the things to Charlie, and X will be your good little girl. MARIAN." in the silence that followed the read ing of the letter the Nixie clerk put the tiny envelope back in his desk, says the Youth's Companion. When he did speak there was no sadness in his voice. "Well, Santa Claus came and took the hobby-horse and the train and everything. If he did not take them to Charlie, he did the next best thing; he left them with a little fellow with a twisted leg at the Children's hos pital. Whether old Santa Claus had any 'eternity' to give away or not, I do not know; but 1 do know that a little child gave me some faith that answered just as well." MISFITS.^ Fat Lady—Going to hang up your stocking, are you? What do you want in it? Midget—l'm lookin' for an automo bile. What are you? Fat Lady—Oh, I'm hoping for a dia mond ring.—Chicago Daily News. FIXING CHRISTMAS DAY. Why the Holiday Is Always Cele brated on the Twenty-Fifth of December. There are no definite allusions in the writings of any at the disciples ot Christ as to the date of His birth, nor has there ever been produced proof of any character as to the exact period in the year when Christ was born. There are, very true, occasional refer ences to the event in the Scriptures, indicating that the nativity occurred in the winter season. The institution of the anniversary dates back to the second century of Christendom, and it has been since uniformly celebrated by nearly all branches of the Christian church with appropriate rejoicings and ceremonies. The frequent, and somewhat heated, controversies, however, relative to the date of Christ's birth early in the fourth century led Pope Julius I. tc order a thorough investigation of th* subject by the learned theologians an( historians of that period, which result ed in an agreement upon December 25, and that decision seemed to have so settled all disputes that that date was universally accepted except by the Greek church, says the American Queen. While thi3 date was never changed, the reckoning of it Is made according to the Gregorian calendar, which was adopted in the latter part of the sixteenth century, and upon which computations of time in nearly all civilized nations have since rested. Christmas Adam. Mnrnma —You have addressed your letter "Mr. Santa Claus Adam." Why did you put the Adam there, dear? That isn't Santa Claus' name. Bobbie—Well, who is the Christmas Adam, then? "What Christmas Adam? 1 never heard of one." "There's a Christmas Eve. and there ought to be a Christmas Adam, i should think."—-Kansas City Journal. "IHE EXAMINATION or BY MAR-GAR t.T j (Reprinted from the Woman's Home Com panion, by Permission.) The New Year raised her slender hand For all the months to pass. The prettiest little schoolma'am she That ever looked into a glass. Or waited, frowning anxiously, To hear a little class. "My dears," she said, "good Father Time, Our well-beloved trustee. Has come to visit us to-day. And much would like to hear you say Your lessons, just to see If you have well-instructed been, As little Months should be." March nudged September; August sighed. And April hid her face and cried, The timid little creature! "I'm sure you'll do your very best. Come, January; then the rest May follow," said the teacher. Then out spoke Jan., a forward lad. Wrapped in his muffler's scarlet plaid; A perfect lesson, too, he had, Correct from A to izzard; How many snowballs to a pound? Where best and longest slides are found ? How skating may be easiest learned? And when a new leaf should be turned? And how to make a blizzard? Then, very proud, he took his place, I W# mm /$!% (sf)i NOVEMBER AND FEBRUARY. And August came, with glowing face, And such a pretty dress on! She, blushing, tried to tell how high The mountains are that touch the sky; How wide the fields, how deep the sea, The lineage of every bumblebee; Where four-leaved clovers —deary me! She yawned until she could not see; So warm, and, oh, so sleepy she! How could she say her lesson? Back, nodding to her seat she crept. And drooped her curly head and slept. Then, with a little bashful pause. Sweet April came, and cried because She couldn't quite remember How many days to her belong. Or where the bluebird learned his song! December prompted, which was wrong; But he was grieved, the gentle lad, To see his little playmate sad; And In her place, quite trim and neat, With braided hair and slippered feet, Came studious young September. She knew her lesson like a book, And said it off with serious look. 'Twas all of sunshine, cloud and haze, And golden hours and shortening days, And sheaves of gathered knowledge; She spoke in French, of course, with ease, In Hebrew and in Japanese, In Spanish, Dutch and Portuguese; "W ■ MAY AND JUNE. And "ologies" and "ographies"— As much as any College She seemed to know; but, bold and spry, Ere she had done, with flashing eye And martial air, out stepped July, And pompously began to try To say the "Declaration." Before the opening words were out He stopped and gave a sudden shout, Flung up his cap into the air, And yelled till 'twas enough to scare Old Time himself; and from her chair The teacher sprang with startled stare And frown of consternation. The little Months, delighted, clapped; The Year for order sternly rapped. And when the room was still once more, Called out the children as before. Alas, their wits were scattered! They quite forgot they were at school; They could not say a single rule. Nor seemed to think it mattered. i October tore his book till, brown And thick, the leaves came fluttering down; And March chewed gum, I grieve to say. And whistled in the rudest way; And little rosy June and May Just laughed and dimpled and looked sweet. And danced about on airy feet. And could not tell where daisies grew. Or why the violets' eyes are blue! & m. jo? AUGUST. November bit an apple red. And .vowed, although he cocked bis head With manner brisk and perky (You'll scarce believe me, but 'tis so). What pie might be he did not know. And never heard of turkey! Then little Feb. began to jeer, But though behind his rosy ear A nice quill pen he carried, He could not make a rhyme for "dove," Or spell a little word like "love:" And while perplexed he tarried, Last in the line December came, And • could not tell Kriss Kringle's name. Or even—really 'twas a shame!— The mission of a stocking! The teacher turned away, a tear Upon her cheek; did ever Year Know anything so shocking! "Alas, dear Father Time!" she cried, "I fear you're scarcely satisfied! But, as I hope you've noted, The children are so joung! And then I must remind you once again, They've all just been promoted, And are not used as yet, you see, In this new century class to be. I'm sure they'll study harder now!" "And if they don't" —upon hlsbrow A frown —"why, I can tell them," Said Father Time, "they'll have togoli We cannot be disgraced, you know. And though, of course, 'twill sadly max The beauty of our Calendar m/jßk SEPTEMBER. So many Months to skip, if they Can't learn their lessons, welladay. We simply must expel them!" At this the little Months, amazed. Wide-eyed upon the teacher gazed; Then to their places flying; Picked up their books and went to work. With not a pause for quip or quirk; Their Angers in their ears, that so No sound might reach them, to and fro They rocked and buzzed until the room Was like an orchard full of bloom And thick with bees. The teacher smiled. And Father Time was much beguiled— He laughed instead of sighing; And off they went and shut the door. And left the little Months once more To learn their tasks unruly; And there they rocked and buzzed until. For aught I know, they're buzzing stML I hope they are, for, truly. If they should fail again I fear It would so grieve the little Year; She'd be a very blue Year; And as for us—for you and me— With half the little Months in doubt Just as to what they were about, And all the holidays left out, As you can very plainly see. My little dears, 'twould hardly be A very Happy New Year! fjm Christmas Charm. The chief charm of Christmas is Its simplicity. It Is a festival that ap peals to everyone, because everyone can understand it. A genuine fellow ship pervades our common life —a fel lowship whose source is our common share in the gi.'t of the world's great est life, which was given to the whola world.—A. R. Kimball. 11
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers