The new era., December 12, 1907, Image 10

About The new era. (Walden, Colo.) 1906-19??

Image provided by: History Colorado

                
The Irishman—A foretaste of
heaven.
Tho Englishman—It’s the proper
thing to do.
The Scotchman—It’s aricht, if she’s
got the siller.
The Dutchman—Who vill cook der
dinner W you no have got der vraw?
The Italian— Marriage gives a man
another angel to pray for him. and
saves him the trouble of doing it him
self.
The Hebrew—The cheapest way of
getting your quiver full, and a long
way the easiest.
PROVERBS AND PHRASES.
Calumny will soil virtue itself. —
Shakespeare.
Light cares speak; great cares are
dumb. —Seneca.
How use doth breed a habit in
man. —Shakespeare.
The good you do is not lost though
you forget it.—Fielding.
He has three hands—right, left and
a little behind hand.—German.
You may light another candle by
your own without loss. —Danish.
That is the best government in
which an injury to one is the concern
of all. —Solon.
REMEMBERED THINGS.
Wherever women are honored the
gods are satisfied. —Hindu Proverb.
Women see without looking; their
husbands often look without seeing.
—Des Noyers.
To live is to suffer, and a brave man
always struggles to be master of him
self. —Napoleon the Great.
A wise man will desire no more
than he can get justly, use soberly,
distribute cheerfully and leave con
tentedly.— Hacon.
T7se not to-day what to-morrow may
want; neither leave that to hazard
*hich foresight may provide or caro
.event. —Home Notes.
IK CHRISTMAS
GOODS
For
Christmas Candies
Fancy China,
Novelties, Etc.
CALL ON
MRS. RAY ENSIGN
44» «s*t*
Joe Black’s Thirst Parlors
Are Headquarters for Gentlemen.
They Furnish the Best of
Imported and Domestic
ud Liquors and Cigars
OLD I. W. HARPER WHISKEY. A SPECIALTY.
Cordial Treatment to All
Joe Black, Propr.
1 Up to Date Xmas Presents J£
4 Jewelry and Novelties, Pipes and Brie -a - Brae,
Japanese H.-.nd-paintcd Dishes, W
■4 Rieger’s XXX Pci fumery in Fancy Packages. C
> North Park Pharmacy. F
The life of a North Atlantic Iceberg
Is often 200 years.
The wettest hour of the day is at 2
o’clock in the morning.
A normal man breaths 20,000 times
in the course of one day.
Every inch of the human skin con
tains 2,500 perspiration pores.
On the average, the coolest part of
the day is at 5 o’clock in the morning.
In a census of the world the percent
age of blind persons is 64 to every
1,000,000.
A light of one candle power is plain
ly visible at one mile and one of three
candle power at two miles.
The female brain begins to lose
welgth at the age of 30, but that of the
male not until 10 years later.
The wreck record of the Baltic sea
is greater than that of any other part
of the world. The average Is one a
day throughout the year.
The efficiency of the human heart is
than that of any piece of ma
'chinery, taking into consideration the
size. It pumps nearly eight tons of
blood daily.
FROM THE NOTEBOOK.
Be fair even to your enemies.
A perfect man Is still impossible.
Marrying for position generally gets
you Into a very uncomfortable one.
a snob likes & woman who is a
past-master in the art of making up.
When the voice is calling us to the
great beyond, there will still be many
things left undone.
If physicians did not magnify the
[ little ills of their patients they would
lose about half of their practice.
Live your life so that when your
! obituary is written it can tell the
I truth without doing harm to your
I memory.
When you need a helping hand, and
one is offered you, grasp it with all
the vigor and vim at your command.
Do not be a cad and pretend you do
not need It.
SANTA’S
LIGHT
LOAD
By BERTHA E. BUSH.
j (Copyright, IWT. by Wright A. PatUraoa.)
r®
UT, mamma, Santa Claus can
go anywhere where there is
snow. He has his Bleigh,
you know. And there is snow here,
plenty of snow."
| The sick woman, lying on the bed In
the little pioneer cabin, looked at the
white whirl of flakes that shut out all
but the gray daylight from the little
windows and shuddered.’ Yes, there
was plenty of snow. You could not
'see even the dimmest outline of any
thing that was ten feet away. And
somewhere out In the snow—she knew
not where —her husband was Journey
ing. Three weeks ago he had start
ed to the nearest town 60 miles away
for supplies. He had been sure that
he would return in a week. Was he
lying now under one of those huge
white drifts? Was he out in this
dreadful blizzard, perhapß freezing to
death at this very minute. She
turned away from the window and
moaned. She could not bear to an
swer the child. But Hattie, the hired
girl, who never seemed to lose heart,
answered cheerily:
“Land sakes, yes, there is plenty of
snow, Lillie. But you know Santa
Claus is getting old. He can drive
in the snow of course, but a howling
blizzard like this might freeze him
stiff. You’d better make up your
mind not to get any Christmas pres
ents this year, Lillie. You wouldn't
want dear old Santa Claus frozen to
death.”
“No, of course not. But papa goes
out on the prairie. Why shouldn’t
Santa Claus? Don’t you think he could
get here with a light load? You
But Even Mark’s Ghost was Welcome.
know, when we came, we got stuck in
the sloughs lots of times and papa
unloaded the wagon and got it across
empty. Don’t you think Santa Claus
could do that?”
“Yes, he shall,” said Hattie, with
determination.
She was only the hired girl who had
come in friendly pioneer fashion to
help the settler's wife through her
sickness; but to the Inmates of the
little cabin she was a ministering
angel. Strong and faithful and effi
cient, an angel could hardly hare
done more in that prairie home. Yet
she did not look in the least like an
angel as she put on the pioneer's old
cap and coat, tied a red woolen scarf
around her neck, drew old stockings
over her shoes and floundered out
through the drifts, stout and rosy In
the wind, to do the chores for the
night. Not a glimpse of the near by
barn could be obtained from the cabin
door. Hattie tied a long rope to the
door knob and carefully held the other
end as she walked toward It.
She pulled down hay and fed the
stock and milked. She brought out
pails full of the snow water she had
melted In the big wash boiler for
them to drink. She brought in a
great supply of fuel and made every
thing outdoors and in as snug and
cheery as possible. Then she cooked
the supper—that did not take long
for there was little to cook —and
washed up the dishes and cared for
the sick woman and the little babe.
She put Lillie to bed In the queer
little trundle-bed —the child chattering
about Santa Claus every minute—and
tucked her in as happy as If there
were no fear or anxiety in the world;
oh, what would the pioneer families
have done without the "girls’’ of that
time?
The mercury ranged 4 and 5 de
grees below zero. The storm outside
howled with the fury of a legion of
demons. In some drift out there in
the whiteness John Carver might be
sinking to death now.
The baby cried and the sick woman
moaned. There was no lack of occu
pation for the young helper. Hattie's
strong arms held the child till it was
quieted and at the same time heated
flannels, brought water, smoothed pil
lows, and did everything that could
be done for the anxious young
mother.
“Hattie, you haven't anything
worry you," cried the sick woman, en
viously.
“Not a thing except what worries
other people,’ answered Hattie. But
she knew that all the time she car
ried beneath her songs and cheery
words a heartache that was as hard
to bear as the young wife’s own.
It was Mark for whom her heart
ached. A year ago she had thought
that by this time she and Mark would
be .settled in a pioneer cabin of their
own. Her quilts were all quilted, her
store of household goods was ready.
But a coldness had come between
them, and Mark had gone away—
"back east where girls were plenty.”
Since then she had been learning to
live without him and it was a bitter
lesion. True she did not speak of
it, not even to her best friends, but
the ache was always there.
Her work was done at last. She
had time to look at little Lillie slum
bering in her low trundle-bed with
her stocking spread out trustingly on
the pillow beside her. Now was the
tiiqe Santa Claus to come. But
the sick mother was too ill and broken
with anxiety to be bothered. There
was nobody to fill that stocking but
Hattie, and nothing to fill it with ex
cept what her girl's wit might de
vise.
She was very tired. All day she
had been battling against storm and
slqjcness, doing a woman’s work and
a men’s too. Now she must do Santa
Clous' work. Was ever a Santa
Clgus so sleepy? Oh, what would she
not give to throw herself on the bed,
dressed as she was, and sleep? But
there was no time for that. Santa
Claus must come to the waiting child.
She knew that in a little while the
sick woman would rouse again and
need her. Softly and wearily she lift
ed the one little drop-leaf table over
to the window farthest from the sick
mother and placed the lamp upon it.
Then she got out her precious, dimin
ishing store of letter paper that had to
be brought to her from 6 miles away,
like the rest of the supplies, and the
clumsy shears, and began to make
paper dolls.
Clip, clip, went the big shears. That
and the rustle of the paper were the
only sounds to be heard. Gradually she
realized that the howling of the wind
hajl ceased and the blizzard had gone
down.
gillie’s words kept repeating them
selves sleepily In her tired brain. “A
ligfat load." Surely this Christmas
gift would be light enough for Santa
Claus to take anywhere. Clip, clip,
went the shears, and wonderful crea
tions fell from Hattie’s hands. There
a father with a miniature news
paper spread out before him. There
was a mother with a baby in her arms
and another in a tiny paper cradle at
hey feet. There were brothers and
slaters.
Snip—snip—Her hands went slower
and slower until the last of the paper
family trailed off into aimless cut
ting. Then Hattie’s weary head sank
down on the table and Hattie was
asleep. Asleep and dreaming of
Mark.
in the daytime she could keep the
thought of him away from her with
fierce determination. In the night it
wquM come. She was dreaming and
she knew it. She had dreamed of
him too often not to know. And in
her dream the door burst open and
Mark stood before her. Of course It
copld not be real. Or, rather, it was
a {lream of Mark’s ghost all deathly
white. But even Mark's ghost was
welcome. There could not be any
barm In embracing a ghost in a
dream. Bhe threw her arms around his
neck —
Hut this was no dream. It was too
sojid and it was too cold. It was a
inan who stood before her, be
numbed with cold, and covered with
snow from head to foot.
|n a flash she came out of her
dream. It was well for Mark that
she was Just what she was. and that
she knew what to do. She brought
the great tub of melting snow water,
cut off the frozen footwear and mit
teps and plunged his feet and hands
In It. She rubbed bis face with snow.
She made hot coffee —blessing the
forethought that, had kept the kettle
filled with boiling water for the sick
woman’s use —and forced him to drink
It.- Little by little life and strength
came back to him and Incoherent
words.
“Started —with Craver. He wanted
—to see—his wife. I wanted— to see
—you. Blizzard came up. Lost our
way. Dug a hole in the snow and
stayed two night. Went a long while
—and came to Smith’s farm. Craver—
too badly frozen—to go on. Will be
al| right after awhile, but couldn't go
oq| then. Wanted to like fury. Smith
hid to hold him back. Good thing.
He couldn’t have come on his frozen
fept. I —came on—alone. Got lost
again. Been lost all day. Pretty near
—gave out. Thought I’d have—to
give up. So dark and cold. Saw—
your light when wind went . down.
Came to —you.’’
The words might be jerky and dis
jointed, but Hattie understood It and
never words sounded sweeter.
“Santa Claus did come in the night,”
chirruped Lillie. “1 saw him. He was
all white. And he brought me this.”
She held up the precious paper doll
family.
.“Aren’t they* lubbly. I fought he
could get froo with a light load.”
Tpen another thought came to her.
*TBuJ. he didn’t bring anyflng to
you. Hattie. That’s too bad.’’
"No, no, it’s as good as it could be."
Hattie laughed out in pure joy. "U e
brought me the one thing I wanted
most in the world. And I shall be
thankful to him every day I live; for
If I had not kept my lamp burning in
tl)c window while I was working—
I mean waiting for him—Mark would
not have found the way."
Jimmie’s
Christmas
Stocking
By OWEN OLIVER.
(Copyright, iv.'T, by JoropU 11. llowloii.)
'HERE Is honor among th6 deni
zens of Paxton alley, but Mr.
Smith’s toy shop stood at the
<5
very entrance, and they reckoned him
out of bounds.
From time to time evil-looking men
muttered to one another about the
long stocking that Mr. Smith was
supposed to have filled; but he had
figured in the prize ring in his young
er days, and lie was said to sleep
with a big knob stick beside him.
So the matter ended at muttcrings.
A big, powerful man was Mr. Smith;
and he had a powerful edge to his
tongue. Every one in the alley feared
him except Jimmy.
Mr. Smith knew him as the extra
ordinary paper-boy who brought back
a dime given him in mistake for a
penny, an event which was his
torical in the alley. At fhe time it
gave rise to doubts as to Jimmy’s
sanity, but afterward it was held that
he was "playing up to tho old
man."
Anyhow. Mr. Smith took (wo pa
pers regularly afterward'; and the day
after his funeral —which was the day
before Christmas eve —a sleek man
in a shiny top hat invaded Paxton al
ley, escorted by a policeman, and
took evidence as to the Identity of
“the boy called Jimmy who sold pa
pers" to the public generally, and in
particular- to the late Mr. Smith.
When the sleek man was satisfied
upon this point he proclaimed Jimmy
the sole legatee of the estate, which
comprised the little shop and house
and all their contents.
“You'll find a long stocking some
where, 1 expect.” the lawyer said,
“and you’d better bring it to me to
Jimmie’s Xmas Stocking Jimmie
Opened His Eyes.
take caro of; and if 1 were you 1
should take the name of Smith.”
Under ordinary circumstances Jim
my would have been elated by his
good fortune, but somehow the world
had not Interested him lately. He
had had a terrible cough for weeks
—his business exposing him to the
climate —and just now he felt tired,
and had nasty pains In his side, and
seemed to be burning all over.
He moved in on the morning of
Christmas eve. and explored the
house with a kind of numb curiosity.
He spent most of the morning in the
shop parlor In the arm-chair In front
of the fire. He did not even go out
to the quick-lunch room for the beau
tiful dinner that he had promised
himself. He had taken a lot of milk
from the milkman, and he kept drink
ing that. He did not seem to care
about anything but milk, and every
thing felt strange and uncanny. The
figure on the mantelpiece—a white
bearded old gentleman which he be
lieved was called Santa Claus—was
the strangest and uncannlest of all.
The fire was almost out, so he put
on some more coal. He saw that it
was nearly four o’clock Lumme!”
he muttered. “I’ve let the day go, an’
aven’t done no bus'ness. This won’t
do. 11l take down the shutters, an’
open the shop."
There was a wild chorus of recog
nition when he appeared between the
dingy green curtains that slid along
a rail. "Jimmy!” "Jimmy!" “Want
any one to run your errins. Jimmy?”
“Yer might give us somethlnk, Jim
my?” He heard all these greetings
and a dozen more.
He shook his head and returned to
his seat. He certainly did fool 111,
and he seemed to lose things for a
few minutes, until Bill Black came
in for three little toys. Bill was
looked up to In the alley as a man
who did ' big Jobs,” and the Blacks
were generally reckoned well-to-do; !
but Bill’s transactions hadn't been j
very profitable lately, and be had to
be careful, because he knew that tho
police had their eye on him. So they
were hard up. like the real.
"Found the long stockin'. Jimmy?”
he asked, casually, when Mu had
taken the toys.
"No,’’ said Jimmy. "And If I had
It 'u'd bo at the lnw.vcr'n, Mill, an'
don’t yer make no in!!i'u!(“.”
BUI growled under his breath. "If
yer didn’t look half dead I’d knock
yer head orf, yer young hound," he
said, “lnslnywaltin’ ag’lnst an honest
man. Goin’ to offer to do anythink
fer yer, the missus was, wot I’ll Boon
put a stop to now.”
Ho gave Jimmy a ferocious scowl
as he went out, and Jimmy resolved
that if he found the stocking he
would take it to the lawyer at once.
He went to the door and faced a
crowd of excited faces that ranged
in rows from the front of th# ahop
right across the alley.
“Jimmy!” they cried. “Glre us
somethlnk! Yer might, Jimmy!"
Jimmy always said afterward that
he only did it because he thought he
was dying, and the toys would be no
use to him, and the pains In his
heart "drawed him out of himself."
He tried to apeak,, but his voice was
only a whisper. So he beckoned to
a big boy and whispered to him; and
the boy stood up on the doorstep,
and shouted to the crowd: "Jimmy’s
goin* to give yer a toy each. Jim
my—"
The big boy went sprawling before
the crowd that swayed and struggled
in, and Jimmy was driven back to the
counter.
Women came in to plead for their
babies at home. Boys and girls
came in to remind him of their broth
ers and sisters. By nine o’clock he
had given to every small inhabitant
of the alley.
Then Jimmy tried to go to bed,
but was so weak and giddy that he
could not climb the stairs. So he
sut in the arm-chair Instead. He
felt strange as well as poorly. The
chairs, the fire-irons, the coal-scuttle,
the table-cover, everything, seemed to
turn into fantastic figures, and long
tailed demons were running up the
blinds. Santa Claus on the mantel
piece was scowling and sneering at
him.
Jimmy got Into a sudden rage with
Santa Claus and struck him with his
fist,
Santa Claus tottered on the man
telpiece, but righted himself. He was
more solid and weighty than Jimmy
had imagined, and there was a clink
ing sound as he swayed—a sound of
clinking money. The truth flashed
upon Jimmy as he sank back exhaust
ed in the arm-chair. The "long
stocking" was In Santa Claus, and he
could not get to it, and he never
would, because he was going to die.
lie saw Santa Claus leering at him
when he woke, and in his dreams,
and when he dozed. Then he sudden
ly looked frightened. Some one was
knocking loudly at the door. That was
what frightened him. Jimmy woke
completely just as the knocking
ceased. There was a grating noise
outside the window —the noise ol
some one slipping a knife through
the frame to press back the catch.
Jimmy struggled to move, but hla
limbs only wriggled a little. He
tried to shout, but no sound came.
The shutters came open with a
crash, and BUI Black stepped within.
Jimmy closed his eyes to escape
the sight of the knife, but he felt
Black looking at him. Then, to hla
surprise, he went away Into the
shop. Jimmy heard a noise of un
barring and unlocking. Then he felt
a cool hand on his pulse.
"Collapse," a pleasant voice said.
"It’s lucky we weren’t an hour later.”
Jimmy opened his eyes, and saw
the doctor and Black bending over
him.
’ I’ve been playin' at Santa Claus,
matey," Black said. “We judged yer
was pretty bad not to answer the
knockin', so I got In. Rare nice toys
them was yer gave my young ’uns.
Judged yer was pretty bad, so 1
fetched ’em."
Bill Black looked at the fire
thoughtfully, and repeated to himself:
"Rare nice toys." Then he carried
Jimmy upstairs and helped the doc
tor put him to bed. He was wonder
fully gentle In handling Jimmy.
Three weeks later Jimmy came
downstairs to the shop parlor, and
the first, thing he noticed was that
Santa Claus was gone from the man
telpiece. He was very weak, and he
could not help a few tears coming
to his eyes; but he had brushed them
away before Bill came In.
"Feel all right, boy?”’ Bill asked.
"Yes, Bill,” Jimmy said. "Pretty
fair." i
"Seems strange down here, don’t
It?"
“A little strange," Jimmy agreed.
BUI cut some hard tobacco In the
palm of his band, and whistled soft
ly and filled his pipe. "Notice any
thing pertlckler strange?" he sug
gested. His eyes were on the man
telpiece, where Santa Claus wasn't,
and so were Jimmy’s.
"No,” said Jimmy, bravely. "No,
Bill."
"Not on the mantelshelf?"
Jimmy pressed his finger-nail*
against his palms. "There was a
sort of figure there," he said, "wasn’t
there’s Bill? I—l s’pose It got broke,
it doesn't matter, Bill. It —it wasn’t
worth nothlnk."
Mill laughed and slapped his leg
with his hand. "Yer ain’t no Judge
of figures, matey, I can see. That
*oro was a curious old piece of stuff,
an' vulerble, or I ain't no judge. I
took tho notion o’ lockin’ ’lm away
upstairs, Jimmy—" Hill put hia
great hand on the boy’s shoulder.
“Tho long stockin’ were Inside him!
Over a thousand dollars. 1 took the
liberty of usin’ tho odd money in the
hUH'uuss for yer, but the thousand Is
there. An’ It’s lucky fer yer, matey,
as yer was dealln' with an honest
man wot might have been dlffrlnt
ir you hadn’t given the kids them
toys!"
For there In honor among—Paxton
alley; and Paxton alley extends to
Iho toy-shop now Jimmy and young
Mill are there!