Pv T - '•
T&xXtx ||jear t 1897^
have to give up the plan, the big miner’s for each sock or stocking plainly re-1 brain long to discover what she hud fairy god-mother or a witch, for from
generous heart gave a great throb of vealed its owner’s identity. Heading j done and the plain, neat stitches looked the day she married its owner the Suc-
pity. Then and there he decided that the row was the hose that protected | in ids eyes more beautiful than the ! cess took a sudden fancy to pan out in
the nugget should go into her Christ- Mrs. Malloy’s stout extremities from j most exquisite embroidery. He still a wonderful way.
mas stocking, either to help her tide
over her period of enforced idleness
or to pay the little brother's passage to
Cheyenne.
All that day he thought about her
and the brave fight she was making to
support the l)oy and herself, and the
more he thought, the more he longed to
take her into his arms and tcdl her that
henceforth his strong arms and willing
hands would fight the battles of life
the chilly blasts, of thick, heavy yarn held it in his hands when the two i It brought a fortune to its possessor,
of mottled blue and white. Next was school ma'ams slipped in. < who thinks it is all owing to his wife,
one of soft, fine cashmere, which fitted “No fair peeking in to sec what you’ve j and never tires of saying that she was
the No. 5 foot of the Ohio lawyer. Four I got,” cried the younger, gayly, and, the mascot of the Success.—Chicago
small stockings of varying sizes owned blushing deeply, he distributed his j News. ,
by the young Malloys intervened be-! gifts in their various receptacles has-;
t ily and left the hall.
Mrs. Malloy was perfectly satisfied
w ith the successof her Christmas frolic .
for her. In order to do this the miner
would have to overcome his natural
timidity and fear of the gentler sex,
and it was doubtful if he coidd ever get
up sufficient courage.
tween it and the one belonging to tin
widow in the' second floor front.
Those of the two school-teachers,
came next—one severe black one be
longing to the elder, the other, with co
quettish. clocks of red. the younger pre
ceptress owned. Then the miner’s big.
heavy cotton sock followed, and. last
of all, her own. Rapidly she dropped
her gifts Into the stockings, but when
By the appointed time the stenog-! she reached the one next to the last
Puzzling.
“W hatare you going togivc your wife
for a Christmas present, Spooner?"
Well, I’m undecided whether to rive
She had put. an orange and a Dag of . . . . . . ’
. . .' i . 1*. i „ „,i her n billiard table or a smoking jacket.
candy into each stocking, and the board- i v „ . ^ •'
•’ s,c > "o exchange Christmas im > s-
pr(*i
cuts this year.”—Detroit Free'Press.
She had put. an orange and a bag of
ly into each stocking, and the board- j
i rs, forgetting their age and dignity,!
munched candy and examined their
presents before breakfast like a lot of What lie Would Like to Give.
delighted children. j “Are you going to give any Christmas
Soon after breakfast the mine owner 1 presents?” asked a friend of Spicer,
seized a favorable opening to thank the j “Well.” said Seth, thoughtfully, “I
jjIIESE days of cor
porattons it would |
truly seem to be
A splendid plan if j
Santa Claus
would look about |
and see
If he could not In
corporate h i m-
self, and so expand
His usefulness to cover every corner of the
land.
I’ve noticed, as I’ve looked about on Christ
mas days gone by,
A lot of little children who have failed to
catch his eye.
Who when the Yule was at its height had
not a single toy
Orbit of peppermint to fill their little souls
with Joy.
And there have been some persons who
have ventured to remark
Of credence in his being they had not the
slightest spark,
For had there been a person of his kind
’twas very sure
There’d be some signs of presents In the
hovels of the poor.
Which Is a point he’ll have to meet, with
many of that sou, *
If ever he shall find himself haled up be
fore the court.
But I, who’ve always found him most at
tentive unto me,
Am certain that he does exist and works
most faithfully.
But certain too am I that In these Christ
mases of late
He’s found his work, unaided, for his
strength by far too great;
And hence I think that he’d do well to form
a company,
And everywhere throughout the land to
place an agency.
And all who love him for his labors in the
days now past
Can put their names down in his hooks—the
stock should go right fast.
It doesn’t seem that it could meet with
failure, just because
They must be few who would not take
stock in old Santa Claus.
—Carlyle Smith, In Harper’s Magazine.
'THE AASCOT
The Success
OF
r
HEN the little Irish
landlady,the warm
hearted and hard- 1
working Mrs. Mai- j
loy,announced two
days Indore Christ
mas that they must all hang up their
stockings by the big hall fireplace the
boarders laughed.
The two sehoolma’ams from the
^ast were especially mirthful; the
young lawyer from Ohio unbent and
smiled broadly; the owner of the Suc
cess mine laughed aloud, a big, hearty
laugh, and even the little stenographer
smiled, . It was the first time she had
done so for a week, for she had lost her
position. Her employer, for political
reasons, being obliged to give the posi
tion to a constituent, there she was,
hundreds of miles from home with a
slim purse and no certainty of getting
work for weeks at least. Truly laugh
ter and she were at outs. The mine-
owner, casting sheep’s eyes at the
stenographer, whom lie admired more
than any woman he had ever known,
said it would take all the toys in
Cheyenne’s shops to fill his stocking,
and he wondered if she cared for him
enough to fill it. He was sole owner of
the Success, an empty honor so far,
as the mine had only been successful
in disappointing all his hope* of for
tune. Barring one great nugget, which
he found soon after purchasing the
mine, the property appeared abso
lutely barren.
This nugget he had kept as a luck
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piece, but when Mrs. MTtlloy told him
of the stenographer’s trouble and how
she had been hoping to be aide to send
for her little brother, who was at the
old home in Indiana, and would now
rapher's nimble fingers had constructed
a number of dainty gifts out of airy lit
tle nothings found in her workbag.
The prettiest of, them all was a pin-
wheel cushion, painted with roses and
forget-me-nots, and stuck full of bright,
shining pins. This was for the miner,
who. she privately believed, used pins
occasionally in making his toilet, hav
ing no one to sew on his buttons. Per
haps it was for that reason she gave
him the choieCM of her little collection;
or, perhaps, she had other reasons. It
is so hard to tell \\ by a woman does cer
tain things.
With her presents in a littie basket,
she stole out into the li.dl where, by the
great, roomy fireplace, the stockings
were already suspended. As she was u
trifle late, hers was last In the row.
Santa had not yet arrived, for they all
gaped empty. She hastened to drop
her humble mneinbrnnces into their
yuyvuing depths, laughing the while.
she stopped with a little cry of dismay,
lor a hole of generous proportions oc
cupied the place when* the heel had
once been.
“That will never do," she declared,
half aloud, and, slipping it down from
the mantel, with a uiunnimsl ”|K>or
fellow,” she rushed ofV to her room with
tin* hig sock in her little hands, and.
getting out her work-basket, darned
tlie great hole neatly and swiftly.
“Now he w on’t lose all of his toys,” she
said laughingly Irt horselfr as she started
| to replace it.
The mine owner had happened to en
ter the hall just as the young woman
| disappeared with ids propeity and gave
a low whistle of amazement. He wait
ed, considerably mystified, in a dark
corner, until she reappeared and hung
it up in its place again.
When she had run off to bed he drew
near and examined the sock carefully.
It did not take even his dull masculine
stenographer for her pretty gift and
with much stammering and blushing
s|>oke of her darning and said he
‘ wished she’ll do his darning steady."
“Fin afraid I can’t do that. I’m hop
ing to get work any day, you know,”
she answered, blushing, too.
"I’ll engage you to do my darning,
then,” he said, awkwardly.
The stenographer's heart. Is-at fast
er. hut she only asked demurely what
wages lie would pay.
Then he become very courageous.
“My heart and all I have and a home
for the little brother, too,”lie answered,
recklessly, forgetting for the moment
that aliuost’all his worldly possessions
were sunk in the Success.
That very day the gold nugget went
to Ihdiniri hy express and the proceeds
of its sale paid for little Jimmy's pas
sage out. to Cheyenne, where he went to
live w ith Ids sister and his new lirot her.
The stenographer must have been u
v Another year!
Out of the mists and darkness of the night.
The new year comes, with hope and holy
light.
The glad bells chime the tidings of the
morn—
“A year, a year, a golden year is born!”
Then all the fleeting shadows fade away,
And ’mid the old year’s twilight, dim and
gray,
I listen to the faithful hells that ring.
And wish that every heart might wake and
sing.
Another year!
So full of hope and trust the soul should be.
So glad to feel a lowborn energy.
Yet those there are who tread the old-time
ways.
Remembering the griefs of vanished days.
Give such glad hearts. O Lord, Thy balm
and cheer.
And let them taste the joys of this new
year:
The way is light: the happy bells now ring,
And every heart should gladly wake and
sing.
—Charles H. Towne, in Toadies’ World.
Signs of the Times.
Useless is the calendar
When December’s here;
Takes but little reckoning
To tell the time of year.
Johnny’s sudden willingness
With chores at night and noon.
Tell it plain as print could do:
“Christmas pretty soon.”
Everybody's most polite,
It’s a perfect joy
Now to meet the janitor
Or elevator boy.
Merchants more than gracious.
All the town’s in tune
To proclaim the tidings:
"Christmas pretty soon.”
—Washington Star.
A GREAT SCHEME.
Ilow One Wife Managed in Christmas
Presents for Her Husband.
“I never have to worry about a pres
ent for my husband,” said the woman
who was outlining her cmnpaign of
Christmas shopping.
"Why not?” asked her companion.
“I bought his present four years ago,
and this will be—let me see—the fifth
time 1 have given it to him.”
"Why, wha* do you mean?"
“Well, I gave him a half a dozen fine
handkerchiefs one Christmas. He ad
mired them very much, but thought
they were altogether too good for
everyday use, so he asked me to put.
them away for him. Next Christmas,
when I was wondering what I could
get for him, I happened to tlhink of
those handkerchiefs. There they were,
at the bottom of the drawer. I took
them out and put them into a differ
ent kind of a box and gave them to him
on Christmas morning.”
“And he didn’t know the difference?"
"Bless you, no! He was perfectly
delighted. After he had shown them
around he asked me to put them away
for him, and, of course, he never asked
for them again.”
“So you’ve given him the same hand
kerchiefs every season?”
“Yes, and it’s been a great scheme,
because I’ve never had as much shop
ping money as I wanted, and these
handkerchiefs have been quite a saving.
I suppose he thinks he has two or three
dozen handkerchiefs put away some
where, but he’d never think to ask for
them. They’re too fancy for him.”
“Well, I think it’s shameful to treat a
man that way. You’re almost as bad as
Cynthia Merritt’s husband. Last
Christmas he bought her a sofa for a
Christmas present, and she declares
that he’s the only person that ever used
it.”—Chicago Record.
should like to give the man next door,
w ho is learning the flute, six months in
the houscof correction.”—Boston Bulle
tin.
A ChriHtiuiiH Oticwtlon.
It was after the maze and the mirth of the
dance,
Where n spray of green mistletoe swayed,
That I met—and I vow that the meeting
was chance!—
With a ver> adorable maid.
I stood for a moment In tremor of doubt,
Then kissed her, half looking for war;
But—“Why did you wait, sir?" she said,
with a pout.
“Pray, what Is th<- mistletoe for?"
- Clinton Seollurd, In Century.
Winding I p.
Jingo Did you make any resolutions
at New Year?
Bingo You het I did. I made one,
and I'll keep it, too.
•Hugo- Everyonealwaysanys that.
Bingo ^ 1 s, I know, but mine was
that I uould never make another New
Year’s resolution. Brooklyn Life.
Hut Onee a Year.
Life is but a game of chance.
Full of ups and downs,
Full of dirge and full of dance.
Full of smiles and frowns;
One day full of gladsome cheer,
Next day full of ills;
Christmas comes but once a year.
Then the Christmas bills!
—Philadelphia Record.
She Really Forgot.
Laura—Dear me! I am getting so
ubshnt-minded. I hung a bit of mistle
toe on the chandelier and forgot all
about it being there.
Flora—And got kissed?
Laura—No. Didn’t I tell you I for
got all about it? I never got under it
once.—Cincinnati Enquirer.
GRKAT EXPECTATIONS.
ji i
i\
%
i:
>5-
"Are you going to receive on New
Year’s?”
"I hojs* so.”
“Why do you hope so? I thought
your invitations were out."
“So they 1 re, but I expect to receive
more than calls.“
“What is it?"
"An offer from Jack."