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Highest A for oats, barley and rye. quire of E. Rtcti If Ton Want A good horse blanket or a large siz* fur rota, see II. Q. Alhmtlit, lie lias got the largest assortment evei kept in W.almeton-. PUno Timer. A. Tiffany, the |MUIIO tuner, will «t Wahpeton the 20th inst. A postal cm (I dropped into* the nost office here, will catch him GEMS VERSE. Folded Uandtt. Pale. withered bands, that more than four score years Had wrought for others soothed the hurt of tears. Rocked children's cradles, ceased tho fever' smart, "'"''iMirt 'ovo 'n oxuir an aching 'Now, stirlesa folded, like pressed. Above the suow and silence of her breast: In mute appeal they told of labors done. And well earned rest that came at set of sun. From the worn brow the lines of care had swept, As if an angel's kiss, the while she slept, Haxl smoothed the cobweb wrinkles quite away. And given back the peace of childhood's day. And on the lips the faint smile almost said: None known life's secret but the haiiny dead." So gazing where she lay we knew that pain Aud parting could not cleave her soul again. And we were sure that those who saw her last' In that dim vista which we call the past. Who never knew her old and laid aside. Remembering best the maiden and tho bride, Had sprung to greet her with the olden speech. The dear sweet names no later lore can teach And welcome home they cried, and grasped her hands So dwelleth the mother In the best of lands, —Indianapolis News. "Like His Mother Used to Make." "I was born in Indiauy," says astranger, lank and slim. As us fellers in tho restaurant were kind o' guyin him, And Uncle .lake was slidin him another kin pie And an extra cup of coffee, with a twinklo in his eye. "I was born In Indiany—moro'n forty years ago, In his chin. its 1 If kl speech, or look, or mien the one trans form feWho used to wear for him a nameless charm, emperlng his joy with shadows new and strange? With shadows darkling for a little space, And then, oh, sweet beyond imagining, The cadence, half sob, half song, will ring With the old music, hallowing the place. Myglad heart has no room In it for doubt... The morning glories clambering at the defor, With leaves and blooms and tendrils leaning o'er, W Flecking the sunshine, cannot keep it out. I love to fancy the felicities That shall bo mine upon that day of days. The old endearing names, and tricks of phrase, And smiles that haunted all my reveries. rain or sunshine be, or gloom or gleam, The day of my return, sweet opulence Of gladn«ss flooding mood ana circumstance Shall smiW across the mists with roseate beam. ie again! When I go home! strayed upon these Journeyings, neven all my longing olings taalways my fancies come Whan I go Bute— To the Back to t$w old abiding place (q rest, 'Uowe'4rl'Muidef^DdersUsnakles A^. Ai#|4^^ n*M thelr paradise,-' V. —Rosaline E. Jones. ftWW had asked consent to be hi* wife, beptiB to think ha meant allhialife. restaurant one night, Twbeu Openingsoda there, VpzMlfc Mscawkwardoasa the cork But shsdkt not shrink as the miaslls near WW rippfio* iMsh, ^sorted, "Oh, dear, Vol. 13. pun- I hain't been back in twenty—and I'm workin back'ards slow 4 But I've et In every restaurant 'twixt here and Santa Fo, And I want to state this coffee tastes like get tin home to me.- Pour out another, daddy," says the feller, warmin up, A-apeakin 'crost a saucerful, as uncle took his cup "When I seed your sign out yonder," he went on to Uncle Jake, "Come in and get some coffee like your mother used to make,' I thought of my old mother, of the Posey county farm. And me a little kid ag'in a-hangin iu her arm As she set the pot a-bilin, broke the eggs and poured 'em in"— And the feller kind o' halted, with a tremble And Uncle Jake he fetched the feller's coffee back aud stood As solemn for a miuute as an undertaker would Then he sort o' turned and tiptoed to'rds the kitchen door, and next Here comes his old wife ont with him a-rubhin of her specs And she rushes for the stranger, and she hoi lers out, "It's him! Thank God, we've met him cominl Don't you know your mother, Jim?" And the feller as he grabbed her, says, "You bet I hain't forgot" But wipin of liis eyes, says he, "Your coffee's mighty hot." —James Whitcomb Riley, rate. Two shall be born the wholo wide world apart, And speak in different tongues, and have no thought, Each of the other's being, and no heed And these e'er unknown seas to unknown Shall dlhiss, escaping wreck, defying death And aHLqflconsolouBly shape every act And MHHfcachwandering step, to this one cndi J* That otraaay, out of darkness, they shall meet And read life's meaning in each other's eyes. And two shall walk some narrow way of life So neady side bKside, that should one turn Eyef so little spake to the left or right They needs musjfttand acknowledged face to face. And yet, with wistful eyes they never meet. With groping lutadi that never clasp, and lips Calliag in vain to ears that never hear, 'They seek each other all their weary days And die unsatisfied— and this is fate! —Susan Marr Spalding. a O 'WhfiTtJ|ijtn hoBW, when I go home to him! I Uko to picture to myself his way Of greeting me, and what his lips shall say, Andmine reply, and will his eyes be dim With mist of Joy tears? Will my coming be a boonto him as he has dreamed? glad bewilderment that seemed v»JSet BP:5tiv/"Bnd Its verity •'..••r-V. en I come home? Or will some fancied change RING, CHRISTMAS BELLS I Within tho broad eternal sky Tho East Sfcir wails to glorify Each timid, sunlit, rosy ray That, ushers in the coining dayl While Ni^li! in tenderness yet dwells Anear tlie dawn, riiij soi't, ye bells— And slow—ye wclcoiiiinK Christmas bellsl Glow yet afar, thou heavenly «em And holy star of Bethlehem Celestial hosts have brought the morn. And unln us is Jesus born! Immanucl, his name excels All else of peace! ring loud, ye bells— And long—ye joyful Christmas hells! With fuller light o'er (lowering lands And polar seas and desert sauds The sun persuades its ye titles kIow, That so each soul the day may knowl From zone to /one tho story swells In flight of song! clang on, ye bells— And peal triumphant. Christmas hells! At humblo doors and stately cates With pationt grace tho Christmas waits Let each homo blossom, Joy returns.' Wreathoholly where tho hearth lliv. burns In lowly yuise tho day foretells Its feast, and cheer! Swingswift, ye bells— Yo glad, exultant Christmas bells! For joyless hearts that aeheand mourn, For lives with burthens overborne. For wanderers gone sad astray. And all who full beside the way At stroke of sorrow's deathful knells. May some peace be! Ring on, kind liells Ye gently singing Christmas bells! Let all rejoice in carolings That sanctify cach one who sings Ring out tho tidings far and wide Ye templed bells—tho Christmastido Hath como again, tho Christ child dwells In every heart! Chiinc on, yo bells— in prayers aud praise, ytf Christmas bellsl IlAHRIKT JlAXWEI,t/-CONVEKSE. S. CLAUS' LETTER BT ANNIE ISABEL WILLIS. (Copyright, 1801. All rights reserved.] it. SIMON A S sat in his perfectly appoint ed library.througli whose windows came a flood of sunlight, increas ed by reflection from dazzling snow outside. Not withstanding his surroundings, however, there was sad look in his: blue eyes. Presently he roused him self and began opening pile of letters that lay near. They were variously ad dressed: "Simon Claus, Esq.," "Mr, Simon Claus," "Hon. Simon Claus," and so forth. Finally he took up one which bore In it boyish hand the words "Mr. S. Clans, Esq.," and the name of the city. The letter rqn thus: Dber Mii. S. Ci.aus—Kitty is awfle bad. this is,to tell you so you wood bring her a good Chrlsmusa. If you culd bring something that wood make her well Id like it if not bring something she kin nlay witli to forgit laying still. There's a man kin cure her. He cures spinel people. A boy told me. he lives on ward St, Im going- to earn enuff to pay him. Yures truler, Mr, took he Job Woukblk 0 Gunnison alley. Simon ClauH* preoccupation his mail. Just then "the little in." She was only slightly interrupted by the quaint letter, decidedly uuusual in his business mail. "I'llsee what the little woman says about it," was his passing thought. Then straightway forgot it. as he had the rest of womap" was a being petitv utid asae1# came softly complete big, fair contrast to her lmired, blue eyed Saxon husband,, graoeful, with ahead that. Sat Uko a lily 6n her sender ne^c, and ten-. tobwjrg ey^that ivere, Uke her 4uu' land's, full of sorrow. 8he placed henelf on the arm of his chair, whlle hi» «fM «MBKh(jhint w(thjiii unapokeu qaeaition. .. Ibe. doetoni hitTci tone," sh^ said. •*TW#wlU beba^k^ia^fterno fy Jbjjig ^Ihtajtory lony ag°w\f Arxqelf tanq Wf vAm /t-ij (hildwijing todyjr\choruf Jtill tl\?jon^sare[MtSS (fiant lrg\oJy. Jtill tk? children love to Hwtht now ay ang«ij cWtaT xky CnowtinaIeaceoj\^rtKjgooi wiu O 40* tonwn? i»»»m •There the wife very sweetly nmi solemnly. is but one place to look for help." There was a short silence, and then the lady's wandering eyes caught sight of the soiled paper lying in front of her husband. She took it up and read it mechanically. "That's a singular letter," he said, as he saw her reading. "I don't understand it." Her woman's wit did. "He was writing to the children's patron saint of Christinas, don't you see," she said—"Santa Claus? I wonder, now I think of it, that you have never before had let ters intended for him. Probably because the dears who write them throw them into tlie chimney place or do not put good stamps on them. I will see to this, but come let us go up stairs to Margaret. And," she added, leaning over to kiss him before she rose, "let us have mighty hope and faith for the result of the consulta tion!" The room which they entered was an ex quisite setting for the jewel it held, the most precious one in the wealthy mer chant's possession—his only child. She -lay like a flower among the rose colored hangings and furnishings, but no reflec tion of their hue could bring color into the pule face lighted by large brown eyes and short gold curls. Three of lier ten years had been spent in pain, which instead of making her selfish had done the very opposite, and she was eager and loving with the little services Bhe could render, especially to the poor whom her mother helped. "Mamma," she called, as the parents entered, "are all the things ordered for Christmas?" "Yes, darling." "How long is it till Christmas, mamma*" the little voice continued. "A week, Margaret." "I'm so glad it's near," she said, with a happy sigh. "Here is a new person to help," the mother said, thinking to divert her. She read Joe Worrell's letter. Margaret was at once deeply interested, and began to plan what they should seud to 0 Gunnison alley. "I'm so glad I can play Santa Claus, mamma," she said happily. "Don't you remember I used to think we were some relation to him? I wish some more letters would come." After she had decided what to send Joe and Kitty, her thoughts reverted to the letter. "Papa, can't I have the doctor that the boy told about?" she asked suddenly. "Why do you want him?" the father asked. "The fellow didn't say that he was a doctor. I wouldn't think of it now, dear." "Yes, yes," she peiWated. "I want him^ Will you ask him to come?" And he, to soothe the child, promised. •HE LAV UU A. rUlWCB.^ *ffg hat afternoau the pliyateiMW iftqrned ,y tfeey oonld do tnmnf* f»r*he cMM. *oaWf im»t,aoaf»r or!*t«rr EO VHnv Tu I****! k«ww» wahpeton, Richland Co. North Dakota, Thursday, December 24,1891. lowed the physician outside to tell him how it was. "I had to promise, in order to quiet. Marnaret. If she forgets, I shall not remind her," he said. "She will probably not forget," replied Dr. Montague "and, my friend, if I were you, I'd do whatever she asks. Only keep me informed." "When did you send the letter, Joe?" "Two days ago, Kitty." "Did you put a real true stamp on it?" "Yes, and dropped it in the post box. It'll go all right, Kitty. Don't worry or you'll make your head ache." "IT is MR DI:I AM." "Well, I won't," said the child patiently. "I have to go out now," continued the boy. "It's time for my route." They kissed each other, and then the twelve-year-old departed to sell evening papers, while the afflicted eight-year-old tried to go to sleep to pass away the time uutil the older sister and head of the fam ily should come. Number 9 Gunnison alley was always cheerless in cold weather, and the top floor back was especially cheerless, for Mary Worrell was out sewing every day, and had to do her own housework at night. There was little lire iu the stove this after noon the stove needed blacking and some ashes bad fallen out over the hearth. The principal article of the scanty furniture was the bedstead on which Kitty had lain for wo years. Kitty couldn't remember a time when tbey had not been poor at the best, but since they had been orphans they had fallen gradually down, down in the mat ter of comforts, and even necessities. Soon after Joe went, Kitty heard a knock "Who's there?" she called. The visitor, no other than Mr. Simon Claus, replied: "A friend. Do Joo- and Kitty Worrell live here?" "Yes, but the key is in Mrs. Mullins' room at the end of the hall. I'm locked in." When Mr. Claus had let himself in she looked up at htm without fear, the excite ment of a guest making her cheeks flush. "So you're keeping house alone today," he said. "Yes. I do everyday, most, and they lock hie iu because I can't get up and walk. They're afraid somebody might come in that, shouldn't." "Why can't you walk?" he asked. "Well, you see, my back aches all the time aud my feet don't go right. Once 1 fell, and most ever since I have hnd a lame back. But Joe knows some one that can cure me," "Ah, yes I came especially to see Joe. When is he?" "Out selling papers. He'll come by and by. He's'awful goo^l to me and Mary. Mary's my big sister. She's out to work. Joe's going to save all the money lie can to get that doctor. And I guess I'll tell you a, secret," she went on. "Joe wrote to Santa Klaus and asked hin) to bring me some thing for Christmas. That lan't any harm, bit? Don't you'believe he's glad to bear of little gir)s thtit mint present?" V« I know he to," Mined Kitty's gUMt, grafctl touched. "heoHwjr Wqitflipeturnad the stran "*rr»«d was, 12 to 1©. was bending over a child who lay pros trate in a sumptuous room. She was look ing up at him as he touched her body gent ly, a world of (aith in her great brown eyes. It was little wonder his mild yet strong countenance inspired her confi dence. The face was all she saw, but her watchful parents had begun to hope that here was a helper indeed, for they noted the scientific way in which the firm hands did their work and the keen ques tions which showed his complete knowl edge of the disease to be treated. And yet, when Mr. Claus found him, the man had said: "I am not a physician, but only a physician's aid. I help those whoRe bodies are helpless merely by giving them out ward support." The group in that lovely room formed a picture, and the growing hope in the par ents' faces became joy as they heard him say presently, "I believe she cau be cured but it will take a long time, and I will only act in connection with your regular physician." The child's look was triumphant. "Didn't I tell you so, mamma? And he must cure Kitty too." Then she told the gentleman of Kitty, and how the poor child's illuess had been the meaus of their hearing about him, and he agreed to go at once to Gunnison alley to examine Kitty, as Mr. Claus requested him to do. "It is Christmas eve," cried Margaret. "Tell her you came from Santa Claus, for you realiy do, you know, because I am playing Santa Claus this year. But"— her voice grew very tender—"it isn't truly Sauta Claus at all it's the Christ-child, he puts it into our hearts, you see, and I want you to tell Kitty about him, will you? Because I can't go. I don't think she's so well acquainted with him as she is with Santa Claus. They have the Christ- child in Germany on Christmas, and I like it better than Santa Claus." Well, "Dr. Good," as Margaret chose to call him, though he wasn't doctor and his name was plain Mr. Goodsell, went to 8 Gunnison alley and made a favorable re port of Kitty's case also. And so touched was he by Margaret's request that he did not forget to tell his new patient about her and the story of the Christ-child. After he had gone another knock sur prised the Worrells. This time a colored man came "with Mr. Santa Claus' compli ments, and he wasn't feelin able to get round to Gunuison alley, but would they accept these, with bis best wishes and his particular love to Miss Kitty?" "These" proved to lie more things than can be described. Kdibles, of course, some wonderful toys for Kitty, a soft afghan aud down pillows for her bed and another purse, not at all like that the strange geutleman hnd given her, but quite as well filled. Tlie spirit of Christmas was hovering in tho air that night, for in the midst of joy ous gift making in richer homes, the ring ing of Christmas bells in towers and steeples and the remembrances for child hood throughout the world, some good angel found time to bring a dream to weary, happy Kitty. She saw—not Santa Claus—but a beautiful child, who held out hands full to overflowing with gifts and blessings, saying, "The Christ-child sends them." A year passed. It was Christmas eve again, and there was an air of expectancy noticeable in Mary and Joe Worrell as they moved about their humble home. Kitty was too engrossed in a picture book to see it. She sat in a reclining chair—Mr. Claus and his wife had spared no pains to make her comfortable—and was so interest ed that she never heard the rattle of wheels. Joe left the room and went down to help if needed. There was sound of people climbing the stairs a vision of loveliness with golden hair framed in the soft white of floating feathers and downy furs then a rosy faced maid placed a child before the door and stepped to one side. Joe leaned from the other and gave a sounding knock. It was part of the plan that when it opened Kitty should see no one but Margaret, her friend und lienefactor, who had grown able to go out and was come to see her for the first time. Mary threw the door wide open, and, smiling, Margaret stepped forward, her hands full of packages. The figure in the chair looked up, and never noticing the slight limp and bent back, results of the disease which time would cure, gave a glad cry. "It is my dream, my Christmas dream," she said. "It is the Christ-child." "No, dear, it is Margaret," said Mary gently, with tears in her eyes. "1 saw it just as plain," Kitty went on, "and I never forgot how it looked. Are ou sure this is Margaret?" A merry laugh from the child herself settled the question, and the two little friends went straight to work to get better acquainted over the contents of sundry Christmas packages. The Truth About It. When Undo Sam was but a boy. One Christinas eve ho hung His stocking by tho old fireplace. And then this song he sung: "Oh, Santa Claus! Oh, Santa Claus, Give mo some potent charm, That pretty girls, when I'm a man. May grow upon ray farm." And that is why old Santa Claus Today is so admired Bccause ho gave our Uncle Sam The thing he most desired. Tom Lansimo. •, Give Him Time. a#'- t? &•&&! Oashawajf—Well,' Uqcle Jasper, bowam jrou^getfingo* with ]N»r phrbtiM#^. Uncle Jasper—Fast No. 38. THE OLD DQ11 MILLINER [Copyright, 1891. All rights reserved.) She sat in a great room near a large bay window busily engaged in the occupation of dressing a handsome wax doll whose smile was lost in the roses of her cheeks. When the old lady had trimmed the dress and made it set just as she thought it should, she held the doll off at arm's length and looked it over critically. When she was quite well satisfied with it, she touched AT WORK. a bell, and a small girl entered with a box. Into this box she put the doll carefully on its back in such way as not to muss or rumple her beuutiful pink dress. Then she put on the cover and fastened it in place with a stout bit of twine and wrote on it: "Eva Williams, Santa Barbara, Califor nia," at the same time saying to the girl, "Put that in the southern California stall." The girl disappeared with the doll under her arm, and no Booner was she out of sight than another girl popped in at the opposite end of the room and handed the old lady another doll. "This," she said, as she looked it over, "is a doll for a poor child. It is made of common china—that is, the head and bust are, and the rest of her is linen and saw dust. But it will probably make the poor girl quite as happy as the handsome was doll will the daughter of the rich mau." Then she dressed the doll in calico and a gingham hood, and when she was finished and put iu a box, which was addressed Emily Lum, Watsessing, N. J., in popped another girl, who as quickly disappeared with the instructions to put it in the New Jersey bin. The old lady was always in excellent spirits, and appeared to take as much genuine delight in making presents for the poor and rich alike as many persons find in bestowing gifts entirely upon the wealthy, and when she had dispatched the little girl with the doll to be put in the New Jersey bin she called for her books, and when they were brought she adjusted her glasses and said: "We have got to hurry as much as pos sible or we shaH neglect some of our little friends. Russia has not been touched yet and the state of New York is in the same condition, with the exception of Callicoon and Painted Post. I am very sorry we are so far behind, and the summer almost gone too. Come, come, don't stand around looking at each other, but hurry, htirrv. hurryl" As the two little girls were moving away, she continued: "Dolls, dolls, dolls, hurry, hurry, hurryl Bring up ninety-nine cheap dolls and one expensive one, as there is but one wealthy girl to ninety-nine poor ones." And off popped the little girls in great haste, and no sooner were they gone than back they camo skipping with a clothes basket brimful of dolls between them. The old lady smiled pleasantly when the bas ketful of dolls was deposited .at lier feet, and lost no time in commencing the opera tion of adjusting the dresses, of which she had a great variety in every bureau drawer. DO TOU KNOW SANTA CLAUS?" There was something miraculously swift in the manner in which the old lady dressed the dolls. She seemed as though under a spell of enchantment, for she sang Bongs and kept time with her needle, that flashed in the light as she plied it to and fro. When she had finished about the fiftieth doll in the basket, she exclaimed: "It is now August and I am so far in arrears with this work that I cannot take the ti0b to go to dinner. There fore, bring me a cup of strong green tea." One of the plumpest of the little girls brought the tea as requested, and when the old lady had enjoyed a tip or two of it she was enabled to work faster than ever. Finally she dressed the last one in the basket, and when they were all boxed and addressed, some one rang the doorbell. "Say I am not able to see any one today." The little girl backed ont of the room, and then the old lady smiled a pleasant smile, while working away with renewed energy. Even when Bhe came to a Japanese doll, which she did occasionally, she dressed it with as much skill as a Jap could have done. She never paused in her work upon the day when she reflected that it was late in August, with Russia untouched and New York in the same condition, with the exception of the towns of Callicoon and Painted Post, until an expressman called with a large load of dry goods to be con verted into dolls' dresses. Then she paused long enough to examine the goods contained in the package, and she smiled as only a woman can smile while examining silks and satins, or even gingham. "Of couiae I am the leader of the fash loos in dolls' clothing," she soliloquized with great pride, "and I must keep the dolb in such charming gowns that they will command the admiration of all lovers of dresa from Paris, Franea, to Paris, Ky. I never grow tired of dressing dolls, and I often feel thanktal that I hare nothing elsetodo and that notUag can lntcrfete with ItattrogreHk" JTostthen itfaagan to ^BasltT'shottt all the staUs, aad "nn and inoM Richland coan^*, Information*! tending «ew"»» h. ay* pocusev "35J00, 'rr Lu about 14th, 189i, dropped beta. and C. J. Farley will be rewarded by to me. behind now, and August is with,Russia untouched and NfcWi the same condition, with thei Callicoon and Painted Post: with the pot of green tea, for I ttv up if I have to work all night!" Often she will arise at 4 in the and go at her work and keep it up'4 times until after midnight. One little waif came to ask. forsometbii eat, nnd when she saw the old ing the dolls she uttered an exclanulti^l of joy. "I have ofteu seen them in ikd windows, but I never had one in myfcana before," said the little waif. And?if|jfflL the old lady gave her a doll all her hnnger^ left her, she was so happy. And .then Jibe:: spoke of the great number lying aronnd.V'V "I do nothing but dress dolls all d^jr^ said the old lady pleasantly. UI "You must have a very large family,"!! remarked the girl innocently. "In one sense I have," said the old lady,?? "and I am working day and night for lto, little members. You know sometimes'Onr°|i Christmas Santa Claus never calls at' some houses." "He never called at mine yet," mur^ mured the waif. "Well," explained the old lady, working harder than ever, and surprising the child with tho swiftness of Ver fingers, "when Santa Claus doesn't call at every house it It is an actual fact that the purchase of such a doll by order from Cincinnati—at a cost of two dollars—was made matter of church discussion in one town as late as would have asked the court guardian for the man who did Wood carving was an envied XiwJ is because he hasn't enough to go around.'V 'i "Is that the reason?" asked the waif. "That is the reason," replied the old lady, "and I am doing my best to see that Santa Claus has dolls enough togb-'-j^ around." "Do you know Santa Clans?" asked the child in wonder. "Know him?" responded the old lady pleasantly. "Why, I am Mrs. Santa Claus, and when the little girls are romping the green fields in summer I am dressing the dolls that Santa Claus distributes among them ou Christmas eve." R. K. MUNKITTRICK. Suggestion. Tk— Head of Firm—You had better give the office boy a couple of dollars, Mr. Pen- "i Wiper, for Christmas. Mr. Penwiper (tho bookkeeper)—I think we had better make it a New Year's gift, sir. 1 have just sent him out with a tele gram, and I don't think he will get back by Christmas. The Old Rural Christmas. How many of the young people know that some forty years ago nine-tenths of the children in America had to enjoy Christmas with only such sums as they had saved up for months, often a penny at utime? Yet so it was. Not one father in ten thought of giving a boy "Christmas money the big family dinner and such fun as cost nothing was enough. Indeed, save for candy and fire crackers, there was little to spend money for. "Rob inson Crusoe" and "Parley's Tales" were almost the only story books, though the people had some old stand bys on their shelves and the "Old English Header" was like other poor, always with them. There were "Moral Lessons," a few, and tracts enough but no gorgeously lettered vol umes of childish song, 110 fairy stories shin ing iu covers of blue, green and gold. The story that artists for the earliest' juvenile books had to label their pictures "This is a horse," "This is a cow," etc., is no doubt an exaggeration, but the toys really needed it. Many a little girl made a doll by dressing up a crook necked squash. "Rag babies" were the rule. A doll such as any child of parents above the grade of paupers may now have for Christ mas, would then have excited the amaze ment of the neighborhood, and a doll that 5 would open and shut its eyes—well, lan guage is lacking to set forth the furore such a wonderful creation would have ex-. cited. 1 v- yr sft A- 1848. "The neighbors" finally decided iti was all right, as the man's little girl was an invalid and needed amusement. She,,j* certainly got it, if company was any^if.1 amusement, for every child for milea around was crazy to see that doiL As for ^1, paying ten dollars for a doll, the people, 4 "/f to «»iw v'X"* it, as oneu unfit to mauage hi»own affairs. Ten doI-^Ci lars would buy an acre of good timbered^»-W land in half of the country. accom plishment in those days. The "hired hand" who had some skill with a jack-' knife had a crowd of children after him on\ all possible occasions the father who couhL carve a human looking figure oat of wal nut bark was a hfero to his family. J. H. Bbamj Left That for Her.