THE COURIER.
8
heard It said it was always summer
there least ways always warm."
Mother knitted furiously. She did
not even ask where.
"Speakln' o' Chris'mas," she said,
talking rapidly and bravely, "I've been
thinkin' a good deal today about that
family that's moved into the old log
house down on the crick. Nobody's
lived in it for dear knows how long,
and I'm mortal sure it ain't fit for a
sclf-respectln Poland-China f put up
in. I noticed whan I went by yester
day there was a boy playln by the
door, but I see no one else. The man's
been choppln wood for Squire Barton.
Miss Barton told me. She said they
bated to ask inquisitive questions,
though they was plntedly convinced
the man was In a starvin' condition.
They did what they could fur 'im with
out hurtln' 'is feelln's, but It was'nt
f much. Hev you took any notice to
im?"
"First I've heard of 'im." The old
man was still tar away.
"Well, being as we're their nearest
neighbors and all, and bein' tomorrow
is Chris'mas day I thought mebbe
they wouldn't think it intrudin' if I
put my shawl over my head and run
over. There'll be more turkey 'nd
cranberry than we c'n eat, and they
might's well hev a little. Nd I'm
suro they needn't take it as charity
'nlcss they want to. There's Mis' Bar
ton as good a neighbor'nd friend 's
ever lived. Don't she often send us
over a glass o' jell or a pumpkin pie?"
Before Father could affirm the prop
riety of receiving such small gifts in
a neighborly spirit, a faint knock
sounded at the front door. Father
turned 'round and looked penetrating
ly at the frost-rimmed key-hole.
"D'ye hear a knock?" he inquired.
"I guess 'twas the cat," Mother said
serenely sticking a knitting needle
upright in her little knot of gray hair,
thereby giving herself a peculiarly
bristling appearance. But even as she
spoke the low, timid, knock was re-
peatcd.
"I thought I heard a knock," Father
affirmed as he opened the door. Mother
peering over his shoulder, suddenly
changed her tactics, whisked round in
front of him and dragged into the
room the half-clad, shivering boy at
the threshold. He stared at her eag
erly from under his mat of black hair,
his big sombre eyes imploring her to
understand the message his frozen
lips could not frame.
"This is that boy," said Mother,
briskly, "from down on the crick, t
Somethln' or other's the matter down
there. Call William and send 'im down
t see what. Whad'ye say, dearie?"
"Yes, 'is father's sick, he says
What? All alone? Hurry up, Father,
the man's all alone down there. Get
John up, too, and let the two of 'em
bring im up here. They aint .no liv
in way of makin' fire enough to keep
from freezin down there, I know.
What say?
"No, you ain't goin' yourself! Father
Wilson! Air you crazy? The men c'n
take a litter and bring 'im up. 'Tain't
but a little piece, and you're needed
here bad enough, the land knows. Git
the men off and then heat a blanket
to wrap this child in. He's frozen
stiff." The child had succumbed to her
lively ministrations. He watched her
curiously as she drew off his ragged
shoes and stockings. A new light
dawned in his eyes.
"Land, child! don't look at me that
way! You make my.bloed run cold.
Ain't you ever been taken care of,
poor lamb?"
f -.
The clock struck twelve. In the
warn bed-room- off the kitchen where
the sick man lay, muttering, a lamp
burned low. Father sat at the head
of th bed, his elbow, on the stand, his
head bowed on his hand. He seemed
to be listening intently. Alter a little
time he rose and went to an old-fashioned
bureau, in the end of the room.
Slowly he drew out the top drawer.
His hand shook as he selected the ar
ticles he wantcv. and ranged them on
the shell before him. There were not
many a much scarred and battered
tin horse, a tin horn with a soiled
tassel, a ball and a top, minus the
string. After a short search in the
kitchen the only deficiency was rem
edied. The old man stood for a little
time resting heavily on his hands and
looking at the cheap array. Then with
a long sigh he gathered up the tops
and carried them into the sitting room.
The new gray stocking neatly toed
was lying on the table. He bent stiffly
and put his burden ou a chair. Pa
tiently he fastened the stocking in
place, under the shelf, and carefully
placed the toys within its capacious
depths. Then he went quietly back
to the small room and the dim lamp,
and his long watch. As he shut the
door the cathedral gong on the new
clock chimed half-past twelve. The
stair-door opened and Mother stepped
into the kitchen. She went to the
pantry, lighted the little lamp, and
crept about softly. When she had
visited the cellar, an.d-the cupboard,
she went into the sitting room and put
the lamp down on the table. She held
her apron gathered in her hand, and
something within sagged it heavily.
She hunted for the stocking for some
time. When she found it, she sat
down suddenly on a footstool and put
her head in her arms on a chair. But
not for long. Her freight rolled on
the floor. Rosy apples and crisp cook
ies, a square of fruit cake, and some
cubes of sugar. Stooping she gath
ered them all, and they, too, went
into the gray stocking.
Silently she stole Into the next room
and stood by the sleeping boy. Tne
warmth made his cheexs quite rosy
and, as he slept, a smile crept about
his mouth.
What so sweet as a sleeping child?
The clock struck one!
FASHKDN LETTER.
The dearth of plays requiring smart
modern dresses has been the pet griev
ance of such women as look to the stage
to guide them in their sartorial ambi
tions. With the production of the new
play at Daly's this grievance must be
mollified.
'The Man of Forty" shows gowns
galore. The man is Mr. Lee Fanshawe
Mason, who has recently become a mil
lionaire through ther demise of a
.thoughtful relative. He makes a de
lightfully generous and lavish million
aire, spending the carefully accumulat
ed wealth of his relative with prodi
gality. Before act first he has met Sirs. Edg
erton Spong, at one of the smart after
noon tearooms in London, where, being
deeerted by her irresponsible husband,
she is obliged to earn her livelihood and
that of her two small children by serving
as a waitress for "twelve shillings a
week no tips and not allowed to sit
down."
Mr. Lee Fanshawe Mason soon
changes all this. He declares his love,
and asks her to marry him, but alas!
her irresponsible husband, Mr. Edger-ton-Morgan,
is not dead, but merely
mhuing. Men of -Mr. Edgerton-Mor-gan's
calibre do not die. They only lie
low.
While waiting to discover the where
abouts of Mr. Edgerton -Morgan, Mr.
Lee Fanshawe Mason gives a Qomforta-
H. W. BROWN
DRUG & BOOK 60.
Nothing is better than a
good book:
jE CJxC !tL
CWRSTlAf&
PRESENT
There is an abundance of them this year, and you
will find them all at our Store.
You will also find many
other things of
USE AND BEAUTY
That will attract your attention.
DRUG & BOOK BO.,
1S2T So. lXtb. t.
S(iS
Exquisite pjocdtie
In fine solid gold brooches, cuff buttons, rings and
chains of exclusive and attractive designs, watches and
beautiful enamel or gold for ladies and gentlemen, dia
monds of purest quality, all carefully selected and of
assured quality and value, render oui stock the most
enticing ever placed before our fastidious patrons in all
our thirty years catering to the swell trade of Lincoln.
J, B.TRICKEY & CO. 1035 O Street.
Lincoln. Wholesale and Retail Jewelers.
$)exs
I OTO THE IJ3IE I
In connection with a fine line of millinery I carrr toilet
M articles. The French Beautifier has no equal; it beau- S
41 tifies and prevents the skin from chapping; also removes ;
blackheads and pimples; thousands are using it. Gen- f
TLEMEN as well as ladies, do not use the dry powder.
1 Call in and get a free trial and be convinced. A cake
ra of plrysicians' and surgeons' soap given away with the
first bottle.
139 South 12th Street.
!.
Lincoln, Nebr.
Vs.
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KODAKS FOR CHRISTMAS
THAT'S AJUE,.
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