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PETER'S CHRISTMAS. !< i!i 1. HOLIDAY STOBY OF LIFE AMONG THE ? BOOTBLACKS. j g iCopyritfht by American Press Association.] g ^ lived at the ^ not a news- ? boy, but the way 0 i J* jhe came to be at g the home was ^^ylthis: His brother & ftZf- nli was father, ^ mother and all to 0 *>e^e was hut 0, ^ and too young to ^ y?PElf |t peddle papers, so j. i! 1-. ;kl Dnioatr fVinnrrlif ^ ? ': 111 1 amcj buvuguv, ' and as he was g quite a successful newsboy himself, he t. coulil afford to "have his family with v fcim," as he said. Pete wa.s his family. _ Thero were only those two, and neither +] could remember when there had been v any one else in the family circle. It did ( not cost very much to live at the home, ^ for the charge each day was five cents for ^ supper, six for lodging and six for break- ^ fast, which for both boys would amount ^ to not quite two dollars and a half a p Tveek, and "find yer own lunch." b But first it rmist be explained that the ^ home is a place where newsboys who 'ijave no other place to live can sleep n comfortably and pet their breakfasts and sappers beside, if they wish, for the ? . small sums mentioned above. Its object a is not only to give them good places to 0 sleep, bur. to help them in other ways. it rarnisties its mmates wua senoonng, r( books to read and baths, free. It gives ^ them a chance to save their j>ennies by ^ affording each a place in tbe bank?a v great table whose top is full of numbered ^ slits?;md offering a reward for the boy ^ who has saved tbe largest am omit when j.( the bank is opened at the end of each s] i^jntli. It also makes them keep good s, hours by refusing admittance to all who g come very late at night. A "home" isn't the worst place in the world for a p t>oy who inw no parents. In fact, it is a r( pretty good place. j But to come back to Pete. He staid g at the ]-dicing house most of the time, j 1-.'cause Patsey was afraid to have "sech y -a little cii3p" on the streets, and the matron, Mrs. Brown, was very good to j fairri. She allowed him to remain with 1 her during l\e day. and gave him his dinner when she took hers, because she - - 1 * - - 1 V A - 1. _ _ jSU'J iv; w;is a real neip to ner, so no -was." in her work. He was ;i quiet lit- ' tie fellow and very sweet tempered. Tu? newsboys all loved him, and many ' -a lad remembered to bring Pete a flower cr a bit of fruit at night. Nevsboys are rough iii speech and action, bu: many a , one has a kinder heart than beats under a fine jacket. . Patsev, a.s I have said, supported him-1 .self and Pete; but you must not think it was an easy task. In order to do this ,uk1 put pennies away in the bank he : had to work curly and late. He sold late( papers because there were not so many newsboys on the streets then and not so much competition. Sometimes he did r( aot come i:i until little Pete, who went p to bed directly after he had his supper, c] had been Jtsleep for hours in his little "bonk, with its neat white pillow and ,, blue coverlet. The great dormitory liad ,7 rows and rows of beds, built one over -mother, like berths in ships, and when ^ the word "Bed'' was spoken on the stroke g of 0 in the room where many of the boys c: iipf.iit their evenings readiug, all had to .go, anc tho?e out much later were fined. v indeed, no boy was allowed to come in lifter 11 ,-and Patsey was a real hero to C( way out after that time so that all his ^ papers mi^ht bo sold, and then sleep j( anywhere he could fiud a place. Mrs. Brown knew why he staid, and was sure v xhj did not hang around tho streets until jj i'L -jitst lor a lark, as the boys sometimes a ill J; but tho rule was strict, and she e, <eoold not set it aside for oho boy. How- ^ ever. Patsey was bright and good nat- v =*"^4=4^ ' \ "f "j ^ . (tit Zen. childhood's sleep has "wrapped iier ijound, Shut out ev'rv sight and sound, And ok Santa Claus she dreams? Bright and clear the vision seems. (Eighteen. Christmas Eve this maiden sees, i While she slumbers at her ease, Leaves of joyous mistletoe, Dancing, gaslight, and a beau. ired, and quite a favorite with a certain et of people who used to buy his papers iretty regularly, and he was not often eft with any on his hands as late as 11. It was nearing Christmas time, and Teat were the calculations which Patey was making about a "Chrismuss reat fur little Pete." He talked it over ma tne matron one mgiit, ju^t aiter he announcement bad been made that he banks in the big table would be pened on t'le 23d of December, instead f compelling the boys to wait until the rst of the month, as was the rule. "Ain't it jolly,- Mrs. Brown?" said Patey. "I believe there'll be a couple of ollars in my bank, and I'll spend every ed cent of it fur Pete. It's kinder tongh n a little chap like him not to have any alks when Chrismuss comes as'll give m presents an' turkey an' all the things bat everybody has then. But I'll make ; up ter him as well as I kin, you bet. re's a-goin' ter hang up his stockin', an' m a-goin" ter take him out fur tiptop rub ter one of them eatin' houses?res *-- ? i.i*~ ?~n yuranu*, tut? ?VVCU luiiua cm, ?n re re a-goin' *er have turkey an' mince ie, Mrs. Brown. What d'ye say to bat?" And Patsey stopped from sheer - ant of breath. "I don't think Pete need mind wantig frinds, Patsey McCall. Isn't it yourjlf that is a good enough friend to him ?r make up for all the rest? What more oes he want than what you have lanned? Nothing but a tree, and maye we can fix him up with one; who nows?" "I could git a tree, but there'd be othin' to put on it," said Patsey. "Never mind, Patsey," replied Mrs. irown mysteriously; "you find the tree, nd I will ste what we can find to put n it." She was thinking of a pair of bright sd mittens she was herself knitting for tie exnress nurnose of keeDincr Pete's ands warm when he went out. And isions of scalloped cakes she meant 3 have baked for the little chap and the ag of candy she had made up her mind 3 buy liim passed before her, only now tie seemed to see them on a tree intead of being laid under his pillow, as tie had intended. "Hooray fur ye, Mrs. Brown," shouted 'atsey. "Yer a brick, an' no mean ougli one either, but a nice, smooth 'iladclfy brick, what they uses to build ne houses with, that's what ye are! 11 find a tree; trust me for that." And tie delighted boy when to his bed, di* PKTKll'S STOCKING. fctly over the one occnpied by little 'ete, to dream uf all sorts of Christmas elights. And Mrs. Brown good naturedly forave Parley's >o:ue\vhat unconventional uthu.sia.sni. The treat fur the newsboys this paricular year was an entert.rinment iven by some young people who were liaritably inclined and who had nothing ise to give, it was presented in a nan ery near the home the night before iliristinas, and all the boys having revived free tickets were glad to go. jnoug other attractive numbers on the rograimn? was one song, sung by a pjmHfnl liHln irirl -urit.il Vf-llow hair. rao was dressed all in white and seemed ke an angel to the newsboys, who looked t her with awe. The boys could hear very word, for a child's utterance in mging is always very distinct, and the* oice that sung to them was so soft and * *. /IIn musical that it seemed to float all around the room. This is what they heard: Pear cot: for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day, in. the city of David, a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. , The sonpr repeated itself as the music changed, and again the boys heard: For unto you is born this day In the city of David, In tbe city of David, A Saviour, a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. There were other features?humorous, beautiful and bright, but none took such hold on little Pete as this. He dreamed W 'If THE CHRISTMAS TREE. of the golden haired singer that night, when other little ones were having "visions of sugar plums," and Santa Clans, and-a big dinner. His stocking was hung close by the narrow bed, and after Pete had fallen asleep Patsey had filled it with peanuts and candy, and an orange or two. The tree stood ready, and there was hardly a boy who had not contributed something to put on it. This was the matron's secret, for noteven Patsey knew that she had told the newsboys about his plans for his brother's Christmas. One ragged chap gave a bright new five cent piece, which Mrs. Brown had some trouble in fastening on the tree. Another brought an Easter egg, which had long been one of his cherished possessions, and some put their money together to get Pete a knife. There was also a toy cap pistol left over from some one s last Fourth of July, a jumping jack, lots of apples and popcorn cakes, some candy, a penny - *? i?i- ?.1 picture UUOiS, tlllU uiuci uuiiLj^n vw numerous to mention." The red mittens hung gayly from one branch and a squeaking bird from another. A brass watch and chain, bought on the street, I swung from the tip end of a third branch, and altogether the small tree was a startling sight, or would be to some chil| dren used to the graceful, wax candle trimmed ones of grand parlors. When the little fellow woke earlj Christinas morning he made a dive for the knobby stocking which hung by his i bad. Then there was a cry of delight .'is i lie held it up in true orthodox fashion ; by the toe, and the peanuts tumbled out over the oranges and the candy over the peanuts. "Oh! oh! Patsey, is they all fur me?" he called out. This waked some of the other boys, and the}*, with Patsey, rolled i out of bed and begau to dress, because I papers must bo sold Christmas morning as well as any other time. "Course they is, Pete," answered Patsey. "Ain't that ycr stockin', an' didn't ye hang it up to see what ud be in it in the mornin? Oo 'long wid ye now; I don't want none o' yc-r goodies," as Pete held Out a handful. Then the delighted little fellow began to offer the other boys some, and this so touched them that they vented their feelings by various characteristic remarks: "Pitch inter 'em yerself, Pete." I "You're a goose to give away what i was give to you." "I dou't eat candy before brenkfus, | 'cause it don't agree with me constitoo! shun.*' "You're a joJly chap, Pete, that's what you arc." "Throe cbecrs fnrPete an' hisstockin," said sonic one. They were given with a will, though it was against tho rules to maKe a 1U UIB UUIIJXltwjf, uut C?vtjr one overlooks such demonstrations at Christmas, and so did Mrs. Brown. When all the boys had gone she took charge of Pete, bnt kept ton out of her stting room, much to his surprise, bidding him wait till Pateey should come homo; bo be played around contentedly for a while. ' "Does you know where the City of David is?" he asked suddenly. "I heard about it las' night," he said. "I think it was a angel that sung it." Mrs. Brown was busy just then, and she gave little heed to the child's prattle and he said no more, but in his mind was a vague idea that he should like to find the place because tnat oeauurtu nctle girl had sang about it, and so it must be very nice. When Patsey came back he looked inquiringly at Mrs. Brown, and she said at once, "Come into my sitting room, boys. I have something to show you." Patsey's astonishment was nearly as great as Pete's, for he thought the small tree would not have much on it. There it was, well filled, and as Mrs. Brown gave Pete the things she told who each donor was. Both boys were wfld with delight, bat as it was nearly noon when the tree was bare, they begged a place to put the treasures in, and started oat, Pete with his red mittens on proud hands, to the "restyurant." "Pateey, do you know where the city of David is?' asked Pete, as they walked gayly along. "Now, Pete, what makes yer talk bo silly? No, I don't, an', what's more, I don't want ter," said Patsey decidedly. "This city suits me well enough. " "Didn't ye hear 'bout it las' night, PatBey, when the angel were sin gin?" "That were a girl, Pete; but she did l<^ok like a angel, sure 'nough. I don't remember the city ol David, though." Pete trudged on with a sigh. He was used to having his questions remain uni onemoTivl \ ff-.pr a <rnnd dinner thfl bova started back to the home, but as they neared the place a pro tip of Patsey's chums came up and asked him to join them in some fun they had planned. The home was a block or so away, and Pete said he could go the rest of the way alone, so Patsey left him and went with the boys. The little fellow trotted on, looking so happy in spite of his worn clothes and cheap, clumsy shoes that many whom he met smiled at him. A fragment of that beautiful song again sounded in his ears. The city of David! He would find it / himself, Pete thought, and though it was but a step further to the home be turned and went up another street, resolved to ask a policeman. None appeared, and he walked on and on, thinking that perhaps the city he sought was next to his own city, and if he could only get outside of that great place he could find what he sought. More and more tired grew the little feet, and at last, frightened and chilled, he stumbled on a crossing, just aa a dashing team driven by one of four young men in the carriage behind came around the corner. It struck the child and threw him to one side, the carriage never stop ping. There was a rush of bystanders for the little figure, and when picked up Pete was very limp and weak, but conscious, and he begged them to take him to the home. Of coarse this could not be done, and Pete was carried in an ambulance to the nearest hospital, after which word was sent to Mrs. Brown. It did not take her and Patsey long to find their way to tho place where Pete lay, and she mourned over the sick child as if he were one of her own. Patsey's grief when he saw Pete lying in the hospital cot knew no bounds, and to remorsefully blamed himself for leaving his brother alono; but the boy tried to console him by saying: "I ain't liurted much, Patsey. Don't ye mind." "What fur did ye go off, Pete?" asked 1 Patsey. "I wanted ter find the city as the little girl sung about," said Pete. "Nobody telled me, so I thought maybe Fd find it meself." Wlien they left him he was bravely smiling, to try to make them think he didn't mind being left without them. ! They went to visit him as often as the ! rules allowed, and each time he said "Better" when asked how he felt. He complained of no pain, but simply I /\A 4-s\ 14 a sinic?+ Tha <?ont W IOUVU l/V ilV .. . all sorts of nice things to him, and these attentions were consoling to Pats^v as well as to the sick boy. For rlays he lay in bed. growing more and more feeble, but often talking to Patsey about how much he wished to find the city of his search. "Good-by, Patsey dear," lie said one day, his arms around his brother's neck. "I'm a-goin' ter sleep as soon as it's dark, so I Ion get up early in the momin' an' find the city. I'll ask every one I meet, an' sure some one '11 know.'' The brothers kissed each other. Then awav fn cnll liis; I aWC| DiV >1 tt ?? ?.vr wv?* evening' papers. At dusk little Pete fell cranqniDy asleep. Some timl in *he night liis search for all things earthly war. ended, and vrlien morning dawned there was only his body left, still and whito. hut with the old sweet sniile on the face. Annie Isabel Willis. Not I'p to tlio Standard. ?. /wSsa'-. Mr. Bingo?I want to give my wife a Christmas present of a pet deg. i^eaier ^displaying nanuBomo specimen)?-What do you think of that fellow? Mr. Bingo (promptly) ? Not ugly i enough. WONDER WHAT I'M GOING TO GETT [Copyright by Americas Press Association.] L ONDER what I'm goVft A ? ins to get? b\ r\ & ^wfiat IW \J to fret I ? W All the little girl*and ? T\ When they think of wKyVv Long before the day / \ are a'way? A ' j* From each happy I ^"Wonder what I'm Hangs around the T T1 BouMtuwijr^ Doean't seem to want to pl&r; Write*, with dirty little paws, Begging notes to Santa Clans; Hangs his stocldngs on a chair So's to Unit the biggest pair; By this question always met? "Wonder what I'm going to get*" Christmas day Is here at lastAll our troubles now are past. Santa Claus came down last night, Spreading round him fresh delight With a twinkle in his eye, C "There," said he, "sleep on. young fry, g No more by the thought beset As to what you're going to get" ^ *1 : Up the chimney quick he goes, a Softly rubs his ruddy uose; Yet mcthinks I hear him sigh As he nods a last good-by, g And inetliinks I hear him say . h Ere be vanishes away, j Bay with just the least regret? "Wonder what I'm going to get?' a Tom JLissoir. a 1 A CHRISTMAS EVE IN IRELAND. V '? C Christmas eve in the mountains of c Bailyculman, in the County Cork, Ire- 0 land. A blazing turf fire on the hearth- f, Rtone. In the chimney corner sat Daniel Donovan, 70 years old, who could talk s nothing but Gaelic. He was twisang a fc little wooden wheel which connected by- -p a passage under the hearthstone with B +v,a minrlla nf fho firp which flickered and flared as the current of air swept fa through. Next to the old man sat 0 Biddy, aged 30. with her hair brushed L smoothly back from her forehead and i( tied in a Roman knot at the back of her p head. Close to Biddy sat Mary, who had v never seen a black man or a Chinaman. Sandwiched between Mrs. Donovan g and Mary sat the American visitor. The <3 old woman was smoking and crooning, t and a little grandchild with cheeks like f ripe peaches stood with her golden head resting on her grandmother's knee. a The firelight danced and gleamed ^over e the little group aa .the December wind r came down the wide mouthed chimney, g The scene was so suggestive of peace t and rest that for fifteen minutes no one spoke. Then Mrs. Donovan said: "And mebbe the Yankee gintleman *11 g sing us a song?" TTa wnuld indeed have been an un-1 a grateful fellow who should refuse such a request under circumstances at once so homely and so hospitable. And in that grateful atmosphere he felt some of the old time sweetness come into his voice as he sang of the harp that once the soul of music shed in Tara's halls, I and told in soug the story of how two I eyes of Irish blue looked up at Pat Malloy. And as lie sang a look of rapt wonder and admiration cama into the face of his homely listeners. He forgot that his andicnco was a few Irish pennants, and standing upright he clasped the back of! his chair and poured out into the lowly thatched cottage that wonderful aria by j Moligue, "Pour Out Thy Heart Before | the Lord." He had sung it before in a j massive cathedral accompanied by a j oTA-nt nr?'.an. and liad heard the tones of I his voice go ringing down the echoing! nave, but never had he felt the sweet-, ness and beauty of it as on that Christ-1 mas eve in the lowly little cabin in the j mountains, v And when he had finished j the aria and resumed his seat, Mrs. Donovan suggested: "Mebbo the gintleman will sing ns a j a song about home!" ji Almost before he knew it the visitor | ^ had begun, "Do They Miss Me at Home?" He reached the third line, "To know at I ? this moment some loved one were saying, 'I wish he were here,'" wjien he be- ^ gan to choke. The memory of his own home in far off America came to him. I What was the baby doing? Did the j children have the usual Christmasj tree? Was everybody in good health? Was any one wishing for the absent one? And before the lines were out of his mouth he went all to pieces like a ship on the rocks. He was a strong j man who prided himself on his cynicism | and materialism. He could not reniem-1 her the time when his eyes had been wet; Ijefore. But sitting there upon a chair I with a seat made of straw rope, and sur-1 A~A v., mffonnniK Tinn- I lUUUUl'll Ijy i? OIliipuciuuiu^vMuvuv ^ww | pie us tbo sum over shone upou, he placed , his lunula uver his face, and the tears i ran through his fingers and fell npon the j hearthstone. An awestruck silence fell! upon the little group, broken by the I moaning of the wind in the chimney. Mrs. Donovan, her face shining with sympathy, gently topped the stranger on the shoulder and whispered in his ear: "If ye were to take a cup o' the Congo t I'fnal vf.'il fi.pl Iv-tllipr. sir!" LVVWJ J ~ ' He took the "Congo" and felt better, j p Then he went ontside, and looking up at i the stars wondered why it was necessary j for Wm to go 3,000 miles away from home in order to make a fool of himself. I Ernest Jarrold. si y 'ij\ THE OTHER EXTREME. ' "Dear me!" said Santa Clans as be H Came down the chimney fleet, - > H 'Tve beard of coals heaped on tbe bead, H Bat these are on my feet" 96 HER MERRY CHRISTMAS. S '< She wandered down Rivington street H rying softly. She was hnngry, and it H eemed more piti?nl for her to be h angry H n Christmas eve than it we3 for the H .ozena of other children on Rivington H treet to be hnngry. The year before she H ladnot only not been hnngry, bnt she had H >ad a Christmas tree. The other children H ad always been more or less hnngry HI nd they had never had a Christmas tree. She shuffled her partly bare feet along n the icy sidewalk. Snow had .frozen ' n what was left of the uppers of her hoes. Her feet were very cold, but alfd id not mind the cold so much as she' id the hnnger, nor the hunger so much, s the loneliness?the absence of the Christmas tree and the daddy and mam o jump her up and down and watch the parkle in her eyes as she saw their poor Lttle presents. They had not been a ery interesting daddy and mam to other ieople?daddy had been a hod carrier nd mam used to take in washing. But hey had been all she had?everything!f. A comfortably dressed stout woman topped her. The woman was probably K ? shopkeeper's wife, and had a heart. aore or less kind. She had intended to M (ive tho girl something to eat and per- HE tape Eomo money; bnt she asked her if B he was a good girl and gave her some H dvice first of all This made the girl R ngry, and she answered her saucily. H ?he comfortable woman turned away H nth a comfortable expression of horror H n her face, and turnfed back into her K omf or table doorway. The girl passed H n, lonelier, hungrier, colder than be- H ore. -H Midnight' came: She had lost con- H c'onsnesa of details?her loneliness, her H innger, her shivering had ceased to im- H ress her. She knew only ,that she was H aiserablo. But still she walked. H At 2 o'clock on Christmas morning she H iad to stop walking, however. She was n a deserted East river dock, and she lid down whcro an eddy of wind had H jft a soft bed of snow?left it for hern erhaps; and tho wind gave its gift H rifchout giving any advice first. H Her eyes closed. Her shivers ceased. H foe lay very still. She was asleep. id not movo again until a red ray frOTn ||| ho crisp winter sunrise touched henc H ace. Then she sat up and gazed solemnly1 H t the sunrise for a moment. Slowly her H xpression became a happy one. She ffij eally looked almost like a pretty child. K he raised her arms and held them out H oward the glow. Her lips moved. N ' Daddy! mam!" she said. Kg Then she dropped back into the bed H ;iven by the wind. jH The girl had a merry Christmas after M 11. Edwabd M"arsh alt* k The Next Thing in Order. B| Husband (displaying handsome check^H , pair of solitaire earrings and a sealdttflfl obe)?Here are a few trinkets for your^H Christmas, dear. KB Wife?Ob, you darling old thing! I^B ould just?um, um?love you to deathJut say, dear, please answer me one H| [uestion. fflj Husband?Certainly, J;irling. fln Wife?Do tell me what you are going o give me next year? . Hj A Question of Weight* m| I I"?I Young Housewife?How much is arfeey? ggflj Marketmiui--Twenty-one cents onnd. m Young iiousewne?.ana uusr hm Marketmun?Eighteen. gg Yauug Housewife?What a difference. HH suppose it is because one is so much Hi mailer than the other. .