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Eve Gam \ RH^S 9**. NEW if» ALF a dozen unshaven, red H ] shirted miners were gath I ered about the dingy coun 1 ter of Bllger's, the one store in camp. It wus Christmas eve, and they wanted sotne 1 thing extra for their dinner on tiie morrow—Just to keep them in mind of the day, they said. But there was little nov elty in the forlorn remnant of cans jupon the shelves, or in the half-empty barrels and boxes under the counter 'and massed in the corners of the room, jone man found a stray box of sur dities, and took possession of It with the remark that, while it was not l"Christina»y," he could have the sat isfaction of knowing he was eutlng the only sardines In camp; anotl.er idrew out a can of Boston baked beans jfrom behind a squadron of tomatoes; while a third, of more investigating and determined turn of mind, hunted among the boxes and barrels until he actually discovered a can of Cape Cod cranberries. ; This brought the entire group of Christmas hunters into a compact, envying circle; and while they were anxiously debnting the pro and con— especially the eon—of a division of - spoils, the door opened quietly and a s'oop-shouidered, watery-eyed man en tered. "Have you got any toys?" he asked, hesitatingly. I The storekeeper stared, and unani mously, as though by preconcerted ar rangement, the group uround the canned representatives from Cape Cod turned and stared also. "Any—what?" the storekeeper nskod blankly. "Toys," the man repeated looking at the encircling faces with abashed em barrassment—"things to play with, I mean, like children have at Christ inas. You see," with a curious mingling of apology and pride in his voice, "my little ten-year-old boy came in on the stage Just now—cleun from his grandma's, hack to Missouri. I've been sendln' for him these two years, but couldn't seem to get to It till I struck a vein Inst month." He lurched heavily against the coun ter. His watery eyes began to till, partly through his condition and partly from some long dormant tenderness which was beginning to reawaken. "The boy's eonslder'ble childish," he went on, rousing himself a little at the consciousness of being listened to by men who usually passed him with out recognition, "an' likes things to ploy with. So, bein' It's Christmas, an' he Jest coinin', why, I thought mebbe I'd better hunt some toys." "Of course," cried Dobson, the sheriff, heartily; and "Of course," "Of course," came promptly from others of the group. And then they looked about the store Inquiringly, eagerly, in search of some thing that would please a ten-year-old hoy who was childish. But there j f -w was little they saw ; only huge T—j miners' Jioots, py ramids of picks and shovels and hlaukets, barrels of flour and beans und pork ; and on the shelves, tobac co and c u n u e d goods, and a small assortment of earthen and tin ware ; und then, at the far end of I lie store, a bur for the accommo dation of those who ware thirsty. There were no dry and fancy goods and notions upon the shelves, no show cases upon the counter, no display in the one dingy window. Such things would begin to make their appearance only with the coming of the first wom an, and that was not yet. "Rather a slim show for playthings, Dobson," said the owner of the cran berries, ufter a fruitless search with his eyes from one end of the store to the other. Don't s'pose a pack o' Ä ' cards would do?" as his gaze 1 hopefuty on an extensive as sortment of that popular article. "They has pictures on 'em." "Wouldn't do at all," answered Dob son decidedly. "They ain't moral ; an' the first kid who patronizes us has got to be brought up moral. Say, you," to the watery-eyed man, who was edging towards the bar at the far end of the store—"none o' that !" "None o' what?" asked the man quer ulously. "I ain't steppin' on your toes." "No, but you are on the kid's. See here." His voice hod an incisive ring which had made many stronger men tremble. "You ain't walkin' the same line you was twenty-four hours ago. Then you was a poor, no-'count drunk rd, who'd a right to dig his grave | ilthout opposition from nobody; now j ■ou're markin' out a trail for that kid o foller. See? Me an' my friends 1ère ain't no call to Interfere between lather an* son," dropping his voice to m easy, familiar tone, and placing a land encouragingly upon the treinu 7 a & 7 ST dus shoulder, "so long as the father nakes a good deal ; but when he tumps,"—his voice was still soft, but be steely glint returned to his eyes— then me an' my Mends step in. Sa be? Sein' the lint kid in camp, we've con tltooted ourselves bis guardian—Just ike every man In the place will do won's they hear of his bein' here." He turned back to his companions. The watery-eyed man, after one long, wlstful.farewell glance toward the bar, resumed his fruit ers search of the goods. There was nothing now to livide his a t rentlou; he knew the men with whom he had to leal, and real ized that hence forth the bar was to be as far re moved from him as though a wall of granite Inter vened. But, to his credit be it said, even with the realization came a new firmness to his eyes. "What's that on the top shelf?" ha asked suddenly. "That? Oh, that is—I dunno," hesi tated the storekeeper, as he took down the object In question and examined It critically. "It got in with some goods a year ago, an' has been up there ever since." "Why, you chump!" cried the cran berry owner derisively, "not to know a Jumpin' Jack when you see one! I've bought lots of 'em to home for the children. See !" and he pulled a string which sent the acrobat tumbling up over the top of hts red pole. "Just the thing for a kid." "Just the thing," repeated the watery-eyed man, drawing u small bag of gold dust from his pocket: "It'll make the boy laugh." As lie was going out, the owner of the cranberries stepped to tiis side. "Here, take this along witli you," he said, relinquishing the can to which he had been clinging so fondly. "It'll help to make out a Christmas for the boy." "And this, too." "And tills," added the owner of the sardines and the owner of the baked beans ; and then Sheriff Dobson pushed before .them and slipped something bright and heavy into the hand which held the Jumping-Jack. "It's a nest-egg for the kid," he said gravely. "Now you better go home an' fill up his stockin'; an' to-morrer you can tell him Merry Christmas from us all." Finally Quit of * Ducal Wooer T HIS Is Lady Diana Cooper, the English beauty with whom the' - 0 Spanish Duke of Luserraga was <o deeply smitten that the govern ment asked him to quit the British Isles. Lady Diana complained that be persisted in sending her unwel come love notes. She is daughter of the Duke of Rutland., * s* e Holiday Spirit ((£), 1922, Western Newspaper Union.) P AN there be anyone who does not ^ polish up his holiday spirit by reading Dickens' "Christmas Carol"? Is there anyoue who does not give him self the fun of skimming down the slide with Bob Cratchlt and laughing at his comforter, "three yards long, ex clusive of tlie fringe," stream out be hind him like the woolly tail of a kite? is there anyone who does not creep up the cold staircase with Old Scrooge and shiver into his dismal roo there to eat a small and lonely bowl of por ridge with the crusty old gentleman? Is there anyone who does not love Tiny Tim and his wee, brave crutch? And Mrs. Cratchlt, who can cook a goose to beat anything thus far ac complished in the history of mankind? And then, when we follow the Spirit of Christmas Past, can anyone fail to be moved by the forlorn little figure of Old Scrooge aa a lad, left in loneli ness at school daring the holidays? Could anything be more pathetic? Has anyone such astounding control of his feet that he can prevent them from dancing at Mr. Feniwig's party? And where Is the impossible person who can suppress a cheer at that re markable gentleman's performance with his legs? "If such there be, go, mark him well," for he has no pleas ant places In hta heart for these de lightful humors. And then the damsel with the "lace tucker"! Dear me, what a cnase she gave one Interested young man In Blind Man's Buffi And how he paid her up for It In a certain shadowy corner of the room ; how he did. In deed! But she liked It. Oh, yes, she liked It very much Indeed, did the dam sel with the lace tucker! Theo to return to the Cratchlt fam ily, who Is there to resist the simple toast of Tiny Tim, a toast of five words that encompasses the hope of all men : "GOD BLESS US, EVERY ONE I" Raisin Macaroon tea Cream. One quart cream, 1 cupful maca roons (1 doz.), % cupful sugar, cupful finely chopped raisins, 1 tea spoonful vanilla. Heat cream tu double boiler. Dry macaroons In oven and roll. Add macaroons, raisins and sugar to the cream. Flavor and chill. Frees* ire BY tnes HMC I ET'S snoop around the attic, in _J a journey of surprise. Let's fi tiger through the bundles stored away. Let's open up the let ters that perhaps have cheered our eyes, or maybe made them moist in olden day. An ancient trunk is hidden in a corner. Shades of dust! The kind that grandma used in days of yore. Its sides are warped and wrinkled and its trimming badly mussed; no use today for what 'twas purchased for. We open up the"' cover and it creaks—the hinges break! We find a pack of love notes, tightly bound. A knitted shawl, a bonnet and a frock of ancient make, are 'mong the dusty relics that are found. A love note tells the story of when grandma was a girl, and courted by the men about the town. We find one from the lover whom she mar ried later on, and others from the ones on whom she'd frown. The shawl? A faded purple, with its stitches giving 'way. 'Twas given her when she was just a bride. And now we can remember when Its owner passed away, 'cause grandma had the shawl on when she died. And now that quaint old bonnet which was style back in its day. And too. the frock which looks like mas querade. Why, grandma wore the bonnet when her hair had turned to gray: the frock when in the Easter Day parade. Sweet memories, these relics that are rotting, sad to say. Just heir looms. yet we feel that we are blessed; for we can look them over and enjoy them all today; then gent ly lay them back again to rast, f The Piper B T in the Subway Christopher G. Huard HERE is a contrast to the holiday atmosphere as one passes into the dark and damp underground way out of the great depot. A chill strikes upon the soul as well as upon the body. The passer hurries on to escape into the light and cheer of the street. Ho hugs ids Christmas packages a little closer and tries to whistle him self into something like gayety. Suddenly lie is startled and helped by the tones of a merry tune and dis covers tlie old blind man who lias long haunted the dismal place. For years this unfortunate lias made it his one business to stand there and pipe up the falling spirits of travelers. His face has refused the marks of dark ness und his soul has kept gladness behind Its closet! and curtained win dows. As one stops to leave a token and a word of appreciation with him he says, "Thank you ; I don't know as I ever did anybody nny good; some people don't like it." CHRISTMAS LETTERS QOMETIMES a letter means ^ more than all the cards and gifts in the world. Why not send a Christmas message by letter this year? A bright holiday seal stuck at the top will Introduce your remarks in a Jolly fashion, and then you may continue with whatever you think friendly and suitable. This Is a cheap method In the actual expenditure of money, but a rich outlay of thought for those you love. Have you not discovered that something somebody does Just for you Is more precious than a present bought in a hurry? Christmas letters bring great Joy. Try some and see ! (©. 1921. Weitern Newspaper Union.) Watch! The Fox is coming! * ß F m «o Among our assets we like to count the only one that maney cannot buy— your good will —and so, at this Holiday Season, we extend to you, not as a customer alone, but as a friend, the Best Wishes for the coming year. Kendrick Rochdale Company, Ltd Theo. Hanson, Manager HE CLIMBED RIGHT "S' DOWN THE CHIMNEY / £1 A Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year Potlatch Consolidated Electric Co.