LG dT
Christmas |
Da id - £3
he
little old
be reason-
she conclud-
“and see
us Edwin de
couldn't do differently.
that, needing
now, he
When pa died
and Edwin bought this house of you to
notion of
, 18 he told
need-
again-—-and
now
‘twas |
the |
Honey ws right
hol
Hen
lett
You out, he ha very
ing you stay
i; but the £1 .000 is absolutely
ed to us on our feet
Istolner turni
set
with a «
and wil
nothir
: up right
well,
1g short of pros ntial, and
deed was made out last n
She bit her lip and reddened as she
shot a furtive gl bent fig-
ure, thdn rushes n, nervously: “Of
course you’ ght over with
Pack-
vou'd
furni-
ince at t
to con
Us as soon as Chris
i Il be easy {
have
no further uy
ture, Edwin's ] ustomer he
could buy it dd. of
COUrse,
tidy
the mones’]] | ! nice,
n—for Mr. Craig w I ear.
with your 1 igs and
| shes and furniture - t made
him think
“He's over to the Gle
um
of his boy hood i "
sanitart-
nervous |
dyspepsia, or some = ich thing, Well,
I must he rushing salon
Haiting In the doory 1¥, she eanlled
back sharply: “If that good-for-noth
ing brother of Edwin's round
here tomorrow asking for us, you send
him about his business lively. He ean
smell a Christmas dinner a mile off.”
The door closed resoundingly.
Sunshine poured into the spotless
kitchen In a golden flood, lingered lov.
ingly on the bright braided rugs and
china closets laden with willowware,
china and pewter, The grandfather
clock ticked contentedly in a corner,
The kettle hummed drowsily. Gleefnl,
the canary sang one exultant song aft.
er another,
The table with its cheerful red cloth
had been drawn Up to the window,
daintily set for grandma's luncheon.
It was the same tranquil scene upon
which her eyes had rested on hun-
dreds of other days, and upon which,
after tomorrow, they would never rest
again. And tomorrow was Christmas!
~f day when the friendly ghosts of
all the Christmases that were would
stead lovingly back, only to flee in
horror at lack of festal board and
Christmas cheer!
It must have been the affecting ple
ture of those disappointed ghosts of
other Christmases that impelled grand.
mother to sit erect, swab her red eye.
Hds, stiffen her trembling chin and
resolve to thrust her troubles into the
background ‘th Christmas should be
over. “I'll have a Christmas dinner,”
she planned, “just as if nothing had
happened and—why, I'll Invite Edwin's
brother I”
Feverish with excitement, grand.
mother hurried to do her marketing,
and for the rest of the day the old
kitchen abounded with tantalizing
vooking odors.
Christmns
now for his health
Hnnes
morning grandmother
me————— Sell ——
Was early astir. Sprigs of holly
graced the many-paned windows. The
deep armchair had been drawn invit
ingly before the fireplace. The plump
and tender turkey was turning an ir
resistible brown. Onions, turnips,
squash and potatoes — white and
“sweets '—weore cooking merrily. The
cranberry sauce had been strained and
set to cool upon the pantry window
sill, and, adhering to =a long-estaly
lished preceden grandmother slipped
away to don her black silk dress, lace
cap and snowy apron.
She was becoming a trifle
her guest when she
gure ¢
anxious
gpled a
up the walk,
the
and beamed at the visitor,
fi She
fluttered hospitably to doorway
away
me. I'l dish it right up.”
The visi fas
nm the loaded
tor's gaze
table,
wh seemed to desert
request
urkey,
grandmother's
carved the t
“The Money'll Be Yours—a Nice Tidy
Sum™
ing served his hostess, devoted
self unreservedly to eating.
“My land,” mused grandmother,
aghast, “that poor Creature must have
been fasting for a week |
jut when the Indian pudding, pump.
in ple and fruit cake had been eaten
and they were picking placidly at the
nuts, the guest waxed talkative,
“How this all reminds me of home
when I was a little boy-this room ——g
facsimile !—and you—how you remind
me of mother! It must be great,” he
broke off sharply, “for you to have
your own little home all to yourself—
eh?
The Christmas sun was already set
ting, reminding grandmother that her
last day was almost over. With a
sudden sob she shed her gallant gar
ment of pretense, and in an over
powering hunger for Sympathy, she
quavered out her sad little story,
The gaunt visitor came around to
her side and took her hand with
clumsy tenderness,
“I'm not the guest you were expect
ing but when I saw that dinner—well,
you couldn't understand unless you'd
lived for three weeks on prunes and
tonst and skim milk, Anyway, 1 was
ravenous from hunger and 1 haven't
had a dinner of such pure, unadulter.
ated bliss since mother cooked It,
What | came over for today was to
say-~er-—that-—er—why, my wife finds
she wants to live nearer the city, so 1
want you to consider this house abso.
lutely yours as long as you need it,
I'll have it put In writing tomorrow.”
He shouldered hurriedly into his
erut, then halted Irresolutely In the
doorway. “Maybe, some time,” he
ventured, uncertainly, “you'd be wil.
ling to teach my wife to cook.”
OT MeO Ra, avncisete)
him
igner in Now
hushand,
uch about”
*How do you
Sorry I can't
“Of course ‘m so glad to
wr, Mr.—n iy tll you
Helen has told
“And oh,
meot
Foster?
me 80 much about you
Pauline,” Helen
rug “here is our baby,
adorable? Then in a whisper, “Do
look more cheerful, darling! If you
don’t I'll ery and 1 mustn't do that
“The doctors give you no hope?”
“None whatever, But we'll got
along-—somehow —" Helen dabbed at
her eyes with her handkerchief, “Fos.
ter, dear,” she said aloud,
singing as we came in,
sing for Pauline?”
“Yes, please do.”
“I'm afraid I can't”
“Yes, you can, dear.
you." And so he sang.
At last their guest rose to go.
can’t tell you how I've enjoyed your
songs,” she sald. “I'm so glad |}
stopped off on my way home for the
holidays.”
“You must come again”
swered,
much.”
“I'm pleased to have met you,
ter, and I wish
Christmastide.”
Days passed, and it was Christmas
Bright and early came a gpecial de
livery letter,
“Dearest Helen,” it began. “I have
the grandest news for you! As soon
as I got home I phoned to Jud Myers
In New York. He's staging a new
show that I'm designing the costumes
for and has been simply wild for some
act to put in the heart throbs,
“Well, I talked him into seeing that
a bling singer would RO over big, and
raved about Foster's voice, so it's all
arranged. 1 am enclosing his check
for $500, and If you can be ready
we'll all go back to New York to
gether,
“With love for a Merry Christmas.
Pauline.”
©. 1922, Western Newspaper Union,
inter
ted, Isn't he
“you were
Won't you
I'll play for
Helen an.
“I've enjoyed seeing you so
Fos.
you both a blessed
Dvn
$n
ARMIES pe
Ame
RL
#,
2
od
HERE are a lot of men out
in the lumber camps that
uren’t going to get home for
Christmas,” Margaret Tomp-
king told a group of young
and women at the
country club early in No-
vember, “I want to get a
Uhiristwus bag for every one of them.
Who'll promise a Christmas bag?’
“I'd help,” sald Nick
ring, “only thing is I'm green at
of Do suppose
could get someone to make n
and 61 it if 1 paid for 17"
“Yes; I've thought of that,” sald
Margaret, “I've figured out that a
nice bag be got up for three dol-
lars.”
A little later
found Margaret
wanted to
n.en
Lor
that
You
bag
like to
sort thing you
can
when Nick
nione
Lorring
told her he
for ten of
“I'll send you the check in
morning.”
he
be responsible
the bags
the
Margaret presse Nick's hand
into his
generous man in
and
looked EYER,
“ the
You're
this
Just a
love for
now, it seemed, would
take
Margaret
oppor-
little
of i her,
but to do It
be to taint with se
his ever-in¢ reasing
of his generosity
The
Margaret
office
“1 want to tell you, Nick.” sald Mar
Ruaret., “that | filled all the bags and
Each
Now |
afternoon before
telephoned to Nick at his
wonderful.
dolinrs
they
Cont
were so
Just three
been
can't
may-
the men at the camp have
supplied. As It is all filled. 1
return the money, but 1 thought
be you knew of some poor fellow who
ght like one ™
thought a moment as he held
the ! receiver. “1 do know
a fellow ™
telephone
sald he,
Then he quit and went to farm
next county. Sort of
Suppose | take that
ing over in the
uckliess fellow
Bg over to him.™
So after
Nick en}
He
ped around
I more sue
iy frozen fingers
HNngs from the
and found,
\
»
1
FAG
ald
81 AVR
EN |
Thought of That” Said
Margaret,
“Yes; Vve
8 he had hoped, a box of matches
with the cigarettes and tobacco in the
By the time he had lighted a
lamp, found fuel and warmed himself,
the storm had covered the roads so
that to attempt to return that night
would be an act of folly. So Nick
spent Christmas In poor Barry's for
lorn cabin,
Fortunately for Nick. he carried, In
In his car, a box of groceries, bacon.
bread and butter as a present to Barry
to help through the winter, Much of
this he left for Barry on his return ;
from the rest he made his own rather
meager Christmas dinner, But if i
hadn't been for Margaret's bag, Christ.
mas would have been a doleful day, In
deed,
When Nick went to see Margaret on
his way home on December 26, he
found ber In a state of real agitation.
"Somehow 1 felt responsible for the
whole thing,” sald Margaret.
“You were responsible for the fact
that | had a rather pleasant Christ
mas after all. You kept me from
freezing and starving to death, you
cheered me with a good book, smokes
and a mouth organ, and kept me from
degradation by means of soap afd a
comb. That bag was a godsend.”
"Oh, Nick,” sald Margaret, with
eyes very tender. “I feel as if |
knew you so much better because of
this"
“Margaret,” sald Nick, “I've been
trying to get up nerve for three
months to tell you 1 love you-—to dis
traction.”
"And ever since you sent me the
check for the bags I've known I want
ed to hear you tell me." answered
bag.
cH
F
-
ro
/
OIL
wnt smmpnnche
/
Gris
ENN
FIN CAA]
Good
And Pesce on sarth seerng
Though learned doctors think th
The gospel stories are not so;
i
ey know
ve got!
Whate'sr our speculations are,
We're dull indeed if we can't see
What Christmas feelings ought +
And dull again ¥ we can doubt
® be,
Christmas, good old
cheer us, say your aa
too eager
Soften we,
In bonds,
day,
y
» koeps
We love you, too! Lift us above
Owr cares
err
iis sister, “will
little favor?”
“Possibly . dra
Blaine to
do me
Mol
willed
began
to give
Jerry, “1
ttle party
imag eve!
party, Jerry. P
of being
ir
F stubbornls
right.
be, old obstinate.
busy
insisted
1ppose the
As
all unmarried.
“Why not
house ?
“Molly.”
already have
have
that
the
the old home.”
“How many
Jerry
are
asking,
comfortable dinner party.”
his Bisler's
ire
left
Jerry to his
ruck with a sur.
two of them ma ie
eal Chriets
an aside
ne
with
“I Love You, Phyllis, and Want Yow
for My Wife”
his sister as Peter was discussing a
recent play with Phyllis,
“Molly,” he said persuasively, “coax
Peter into the study and see If yom
can't stay there for a little. Run the
radio, poke over my treasures, any-
thing.”
Then he turned to Phyllis. “Come,”
he invited, “let's sit by the fire and
tell secrets. I'll tell mine first! he
promised,
“1 love you, Phyllis” he sald at
last, “and I want you for my wife 1
have imagined you again and again
sitting here In just this way beside
me. Have | any chance, dear?
Phyllis did not speak for a mo-
ment and Jerry's heart sank like a
plummet. Then, softly, there stole
from the study the sweet strains of
“Silent night, holy night”
Phyliis lifted her pansy eyes to
Jerry's and laid her slender hand on
the arm of his chair where it was in.
stantly grasped. “Every chance in
the world,” she whispered,
Later, Molly took Jerry to task. “3
believe,” she said accusingly, “yom
asked those people on Christmas eve
Just hoping they wouldn't come.”
Her brother looked sheepish. Then,
“Right you are,” he admitted. “1 got
an acceptance from Phyllls first. how.
ever, and gambled on the others be
Ing too busy.”
“You're a fraud!” said Molly.
“Merry Christmas!” sald Jerry.
evr Br Syndleate)