Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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I !> Thursday, December 23, 1948 THE CLINTON CHRONICLE Page Five To our friends of tjiis community, to our friends^^. in other communitiesjina ^ to the friends year tifold^blessings but know we^hdve much for which to be thanl(ful.\ It is with heartfelt|Tjeling and gratitude ^tnat jvf e send each of>you these greetings. / May jthisMoeb'see you happy ondycontented and may the New Year be one ;of genuine happiness for V/;' ' ] SeU! THE COUNTRY MARKET Phone 98 ie r Cheery Little Message to wish you r I V 1 ( 1) .< 1 L ( 1 1 l 1 •• , 8 • • ■i ir u HAPPY NEW YEAR! Buriiss-Harrison Furniture Go, West Pitts Street < JoOnsL fyv-wwm< llil amLCUL Inspired by the thoughts of pleasant associations during the past we are only too glad to send yom a little Christmas senti ment that carries with it genuine thankfulness ior all the blessings that have come our way. > We send to you, not only as a customer, but as a friend—our best wishes for Health, Happiness and Prosperity. Sunshine Cleaners H. F. Blalock Phone 436 Gary Holcomb By WILLIAM TREMON rVERY day for a week old Oliver ^ had been passing their house in his wagon loaded with pine and cedar trees. “Christrr^as trees cheap!” he shouted. ‘‘Christmas .. tr-e-es—two dollars. On-l-y-y two dollars. . . He was passing now, and Marge, washing the few dishes she and Denny had soiled at their noonday meal, wished she couldn't hear the sound of his shouting voice. Joe always bought old Oliver’s trees. ‘‘Old Oliver needs the money,” he’d say. “And our old car just wouldn’t take the bumps of a hunt for a tree in the country around here." Old Oliver hesitated In front of the little house, repeating his chant until Marge through she must go to the door and tell him to stop. She “Denny, dear,” she said thick ly, “we’re not going to have a tree this Christmas. Daddy isn't here to help decorate it, and besides— Santa will pome without a Christ mas tree.” and Joe had explained to him the first time they’d bought a tree just the kind they liked. It had to be so tall and so big around. It had to be cedar with clusters of blue berries on it. Old Oliver always had the kind of tree they wanted. Little Denny ran into the kitchen from the front room, j "Mommy, there’s ol’ Oliver,” he said. “Mommy, he has our tree. . . .” Marge dried her hands and knelt to gather little Denny in her arms. “I know he has, dear,” she said, making herself look at him. Since last January when the horrible car accident had taken Joe away from her, she’d had difficulty in looking at Denny. Denny had Joe’s rumpled dark hair, his dark eyes, the deep cleft in his chin. A sob caught in Marge’s throat. “Denny, dear,” she i said thickly, “we’re not going to : have a tree this Christmas. Daddy isn’t here to help decorate it, and j besides—Santa will come without I a Christmas tree.” ‘Til help decorate it,” penny said. “I did last year.” Marge pressed Denny close. “I know, dear—” she Said. Poignant memories of last Christmas crowd ed her so that she couldn't talk for a moment. She could see Joe teeter ing on the ladder to put the star in the top of the tree. “I can help, Mommy. . . Denny insisted. “You could, dear, but we don’t want a tree with Daddy gone. Some day, dear,—oh, I hope it never comes to you—you’ll understand why Mommy didn’t want a Christ mas tree!” She rose to her feet hurriedly feeling a rush of tears. “I’ll J get your wraps, Denny, and you can play outside in the snow for awhile.” • • • Shadows lengthened in the little house before it came to BTarge with frightening realization that it had been all of three hours since Den- ny’d left the house. “Denny—DENNY!” She ran out on the porch and down the steps, her slim unprotected feet and legs sinking into the deep snow that }iad banked there. “DENNY-!” The echo of her voice came back to her in mocking horror across the white stillness of the little yard. A cold wind swept against her as she stood at the gate looking up and down the street and calling Denny’s name. It was a horrible moment, one in which she knew she must hav* aged twenty .years, and one in which she saw in heart wrenching clarity her unfairness to Denny in harboring a self-cen tered grief over her loss of Joe to the extent of his safety, his protec tion, his veritab’e happiness. A familiar wugun made the turn at the end of the street, and Marge recognized old Oliver and his load of Christmas trees. His chant rang out again, “Buy your Christmas tree now! On-l-y two dollars. . . .” Marge shrieked against the wind, “Oh, don’t—please don’t 1” Then she saw Denny—little brown garbed Denny sitting up in the seat by old Oliver! The wagon stopped by the gate, and old Oliver grinned as Denny climbed down into Marge’s reach ing arms. “He likka th’ ride. He. . . ” Marge didn’t give him a chance to italk.^ “Do you Ivave our tree, Oliver?” she asked. Old Oliver chuckled and jumped down from the wagon. “All’a week I’ve had your tree,” he said. “Just put it In the yard,” Marge told him. “Why, Denny and I couldn’t do without our tree!” 0 o t There’ll be a “Waiting Line” on Long Distance, too We expect the biggest rush of Long Distance telephone calls we’ve ever had this Christmas. Even with every circuit and switchboard in serv- ^ ice, thtre may be delays. ‘ To avoid the rush, why not make your cal 1 s before Christmas Eve or after Christmas L ay? SOUTHERN BELL TELEPHONE AND TELEGRAPH COMPANY Incorporated (?> mis fmas It is our sincere desire that you will spend a most enjoyable Holiday with your family and friends At Christmas we find it most oppor tune to thank you for your many past favors and solicit your continued good will. McGee’s Drug Store R. H. McGee — Phone No. 1 \