Q~... LJ1 A Messenger from Santa Claus By J. F HENDERSON Lf—...TrTTTTTTn (Copyright.) ”1 n**ver dirt sit Santa Clans lint 1 vc soon his tnpss'ugor," said Hilly, gravely. ms in r s » e n ger!" gasped hia astonished moth er, "Why, Hilly who put that idea Into your head “I >idn't you ever see him, mam nia’" See who?" "Santa Claus’ mess'nger." “Of course not, child." “Well, I did," stoutly declared Hilly, "I saw him down by the big gate yesterday. And lie’s goin' to bring me a new sled \ l'ipple of I a u g li i e i w eat. round the family e i r c 1 e , Hilly's mother rose and took him by the hand “It ts time little boys were hi bed," she said, and led hi in from (lie J » 'Dili . When the child was snugly tucked sway between the sheets his mother | bent down and kissed him. ' Good night, darling. ' she whisper ed. "To-morrow Is Christinas, and muybe if you are a real good boy ihintu Claus will bring you something. Hut good little hoys don’t tell libs, Hilly remember that." Doris laithrnp sighed, even as she crooned n soft lullaby that sent Hilly drifting away into the land of dreams. She was not happy, poor thing, and • he universal merry making of the Christina* season only Intensified the deep desolation of her heart. Ilow • be had lived through the dragging • eara that had elapsed since tier young husband had left to become a wander er on (lie face of the earth, she scarce ly knew It was just five yean—five • ear* this Christinas eve since he bad gone away Hilly, she remember ed, was hut three years old at that lime -now he was eight. It was a dark chapter in li«r young life, and the memory of It still made her blood run ,-old A man had been •lain—a man named Duke, who had been her fat tier's hitter enemy and persecutor for years. Circumstantial evidence pointed to young .lack latlhrop as the perpetrator of the deed, and .lack had been foolish enough to run away like an ordinary fugitive from justice, thus convicting hlmseir in the eyes of the world. He had never been caught, and had never communicated with Ills wife, who at last hurt gone home to her father's house, not knowing whether her tins band was alive or dead. Hut there had been a sequel to the terrible tragedy. Uss than a year *go her father had died. On his death ted he had confessed that he was the rest slayer of Ills arch-enemy, Duke; that in the madness of exasperation be bad struck the blow that made him a homicide: that his son-in-law, ■lack l.athrop. had been tlie only wit ness to his rush a. t. and that .Jack— noble, quixotic .1 ek—to save his wife's rather, had deliberately diverted suspicion to hinise'i h.v disappearing from (he community’ Christmas dawned on snow covered ' 'h, but il brought no peace to •’> l.uthroe's lit. il She sat at the h *. ii*1 table w1 ’> (he other mem ' i ■- >>r tlic family. silent and distrait ■ * i' (l not even notlc* when Hill' .'■lipped down from the table mid soft i> stole out of the t om Where is Hilly 7” some oue sudden tv asked His mother start.teps and into the house 1 couldn't help it. ma'am.” said the stranger, apologetically, as he took off his disreputable hat ''The child in sisted on my coming to the house, and I—I—1 just couldn't resist—" Doris gave a piercing scream. “Jack! Jack!” she cried out wildly. *T know that voice—I know that voice!" She snatched the long gray beard from the man's face and dashed H to the floor. 'Jack! ' she faintly articulated, and fell swooning into the strong arms of her husband. And at that moment the bells in the neighboring to'wn broke forth in a • glamor of joyous Christmas greetings □.— One Christmas in the Mountains By KARL MARBLE U -.. .TTTT.TTTTTQ (Copyright.) Two nr three days before the "holy holiday," as Christman hua not inaptly been termed, the dense, almost sol Id-snow clouds set tled down over tlio Itocky mountains and the adjacent r< gion. a; though burying t hem mountain deep with the feathery flakes dial came silently and swirl ingly down, stead ily and persistent ly busy, as though building' a new range of moun tains of solid and never ending pearl stretching away seemingly in an endless eliain, and creeping up to ward die zenith in an ambition to outdo Nature her self. Watersprouts have been known In a few moments of time to Iniili date valleys and even hills them selves; and such a display of the forces hi Nature as this seemed to bo u snow-spout, If such n word may be coined Just before entering the snowy realm on an east-bound train, Harold Lancaster had telegraphed to Hollyville, a pretty little village In Illinois, that he was on his way home, and would he tliere In season to as sist in the church festivities on Christ mas, after which the train hud plunged into Hie mountain region lie did not know that his telegram was not sent, as before it was dispatched the wires hud broken under the weight of the snow, and all communication with tiie east was suspended. The train plunged ahead, assisted occasionally by a con venient snow plow, and was making fair progress toward the summit, where It was expected it would meet with less obstruction than on the western slope. Harold had gone on a trip up through the wonderful Canadian country in the fall, promising to re turn to assist In giving a Christmas entertainment in the church, of which lCdtth Lowell, his sweetheart, was the soprano, as he was the tenor. He had written a little musical skit, in which lie waa to essay the part of a trumpeter and messenger, to announce to the Christian world—or the soon to be Christian world—the birth of the Saviour; and Ills announcement of that event was to he greeted by the beautiful soprano voice of Miss Low ell in a welcoming aria, which had beeu composed with particular refer ence to her exquisite method of bird like trillings, which was one of the features of her voice that made her so popular with those who listened to her voice Sunday after Sunday. \s Christmas approached, and day after day passed without any word being received from young Lancaster, she seemed burled in gloom as deeply aa were the foothills and even the peaks as well ns the canyons of the great dividing range of the country. All this time, out In the Rocky mountains, a train was creeping along slowly, and a muffled tenor voice was murmuring, almost muttering, in oc casional volcings. V son Is Inirn to the Highest!" and •iguin. "Glory Halle lujah!" as though in rehearsal of the event In the Utile church in I lolly ville At last Christmas eve arrived, and the congregation in their seats were expectant. The choir singers seemed lo take their cue from Miss Lowell, and a small modicum of success only was anticipated r.ver.vnouy was ivaiiy tor ttie start. •.Pd ttuM'e was a pause The blast on | the trumpet sounded, which was the j signal for Hditli to rise and be ready ! •o greet the tenor announcement. It only Harold were hero!" she said ioUo voire, as she arose. "It will in' hard for me to sing it." She stood i.v.e ;antl> I have no Inspi ration without Harold." Hollowing the trumpet signal a fig ure appeared in the distunce: but Kditlv did not have the heart to look. There seemed to be a little commo tion. "O, dear!" she exclaimed. “1 hope that end of it will not fail also, as I fear this will." Then a dear, ringing voice sounded forth, which acted on Kdith like an electric battery: “A son is born to the Highest!" she heard, which was followed by "Glory Hallelujah!" taken up by both choir and congregation. Her inspiration had arrived. She knew Hie voice so well, and her heart leaped, as her voice rang out in the opening notes of Iter aria, which in turn was so inspiring that it brought the entire audience to its feet, and all remained standing, in deference to her sweet delivery of the words and notes alike". "It was a great triumph’" said the old pastor, as lie was being congratu lated. "And love was the key note," said a knowing young deacon "Yes, love to God." said the pastor. "And to man." added the deacon. n. Three Christmas Days Together By F. B. EMERY n.•••••□ (Copyright.) Christmas day dawned brij^it and dear but Mildred Hudson was any i lung uui rum ful. For a year she had been look ing forward to the time when her lover was to ask her father for her hand, and now ev erything must come to an end. Could the daugh ter of Willis Hud son, m e r c h a n t • prince, waste her life upon a mere architect who could hardly sup | port himself? Such j an idea was lie • yond belief and * while the young man tried to show j that he had been ! successful in ills calling and that the future prom tsed more, the old er man became j more violently en- j raged as the min utes passed and finally told the | pauper in leave nis nouse und never to return until three Christmas days came together. Then he could have his daughter as u Christmas gift. As a man of honor John Dean could only submit to the decision until he could convince the wealthy man of his mistake. Now it so happened that Willis Hudson had men and ships in his em ploy men who sought out the utter most parts of the earth for what they could find to please their master’s eye. Jewels and trinkets from foreign marts, delicate perfumes, rare fruits, soft fabrics and countless curiosities name to him each year through his faithful assistants, and Mildred was always allowed to choose whatever she wished whenever one of the cap tains returned from a voyage. The Christmas breakfast had been rather less cheerful than usual and It was with a feeling of relief that Mildred heard her mother call to her to come to the library. Capt. Zeno had just returned from a long voyage and had a few little presents he wished to give her. Mil dred hastened to the library, anxious to let her thoughts dwell upon more cherful subjects. Just as she entered the door the ruddy cuptain turned around, saluted and wished her a Merry Christmas, adding that although he was a day late with his greetings it htyl been Im possible for him to see her the day be fore, and anyway, it was just as well to wait, for he had many business mat ters to talk over with her father, who did not like to discuss business mat ters on Christmas day, so he had not entered port until about two hours ago. and had let the sailors celebrate Christmas all day yesterday. Why," exclaimed Mildred, "to-day is Christmas. Capt. Zeno. You must, have lost your reckoning on your last trip." "No. Miss Mildred, yesterday was Christinas Do you suppose I coil’d sail clear around the world and be to forgetful of Christmas'.’ Our rec ords are perfect." .lust as she spoke the bell rang again and Capt Jonas came in loaded down with numerous bundles, which he presented to Mildred 1 brought these to you today so thut 1 can leave here to-night and spend Christinas with tny family to morrow," HHid Capt. Jonas. "To-morrow?” asked Mildred, "Why Capt Zeno has just been trying to make me believe that Christmas was yesterday. "It is to-morrow," said Capt. Jonas. " I'nini to-murru s.iul C.ipt. Ze no Juki as emphatically, "yesterday was Cluistma.: day and ! can prove it." "And 1 can prove it is to morrow,” salii Capt. Jonas, warmly. "You must think I can't keep my records straight." Roth I lie w orthy captains w ere last real hing a point where it meant give in or tight when Mildred's younger brother, Max. who heard the noise, came in, aiul asked what was wrong. Mildred tolij him. and after a min ute he asked: "How far did you’sail, Capt. Jonas?" "Clear around, boy." "And which way did you go?" "West, all the way." And how about you, Capt Zeno?" “Same thing, only east." "Then it is easy," said Max. "You went from east to west Capt. Jonas, and lost a day. You are a day be hind, so Christinas is tomorrow for you. You went from west to east, Capt. Zeno, and gained a day, so Christmas was yesterday for you. The rest of us stayed at home and have Christmas to-day, so that we have three Christmas days altogether, yes terday, to-day and tomorrow." Mildred rushed to her father and caught his hand. "O, father don't you remember your promise?" The stern face softened and as he placed his hand on his daughter’s shoulder Willis Hudson said: "The laws of nature seem to work in your favor. If you can reach John by ’phone you may invite him to dinner, to give him his present." Western Kansas Farm Your Owrs Land Get a Home in Kansas There has been a great deal said and written about Kansas. Many have sang her praises, and many more have heaped curses upon her, but the same has been the history of every state. Kansas has forged ahead until to day she ranks with the foremost agricultural states in the union. Scientific fanning has uncovered the secret, and the farmer who works with his brain as well as with his hands, has turned what was once known as the “Great American Desert” into broad, fertile fields, producing great crops of corn, wheat, oats and alfalfa. What One Man Did, Another Can, If He will Only Try t What William Kuhlman Did LEOTI, KANSAS, July 15th, 1909. To tvbom it may concern: I am a resident of Wichita County, Kansas, and have been for seventeen years past, and will say that when 1 landed here I was practical broke, possibly had $300. Today I have 920 acres of nice, level land and have refused $25 an acre for part of it, and the same is located 17 miles southeast of Leoti. I also have large bunches of horses and cattle. 1 have a small peach orchard, possibly two acres, and in 1905 raised 300 bushels of peaches, and in 1906 raised 500 bushels, and for two years just past would have raised more had it not been for the late frosts. I am well satisfied with the country and think anyone with a little money, and who will work, can do the same as I have done. My orchard was not irrigated. For the last thirteen years, with the exception of one or two years, I raised fine crops of corn, wheat, barley, etc., and I can well recommend this country as a good place for a home investment. WILLIAM KUHLMAN. $500 cash; balance $100 each year at 6 per cent interest. These farms are all smooth, level and / the best of soil, located in Greeley county. I have just as good bargains in Wichita, Scott, Lane and Ness counties. Call on or write me for a little booklet, entitled “Western Kansas,” explaining in detail the resources of this great country. G. H. Fallstead FALLS CITY. NEBRASKA I