The Shasta courier., 1865-02-25
My Christmas.

i
me DR.. Bob-protably because nv hair is
Railways short-bobbed off, you know
have wife and four innocent children
Doctors always have children, they are not so
much of a luxury to them as to serve other
| people. call my children innocents, and
so they are, though now and then they do
play the very duce with my medicines; but
then that shows commendable spirit of re-
search and inquiry. Mrs. Jeryis says it is
mischief. When young Bob one day gave
the cat a blue-pill, she went so far as to say
that it was piece of downright cruelty but
assured her that it was only an experiment
! Illustrating his inclination toward his fathers
/ profession, and that. for my part, didn't
care II he physicked all the cats in town if
thereby he qualified himself for usefulness in
the walks OF medicine, which his father so
adorned. | have noticed since then that we
have no cats in our house either my logic
or Bob's experiment was successful
There are some people in my line who
never take time to enjoy holiday. I'm not
one of that sort. l believe Christmas. for.
instance. was meant for me as much as for
other men, and try always to enjoy 1t in a
rational way: And that brings me to my
story.
One year ago | had memorable Christ
mas experience. Rather, 1 had a memorable
Christmas Eve. Sitting in my cozy parlor,
with my wife at my elbow, chatting with
her OF the morrow, there came sudden ring
OF the door-bell, sharp, quick, decisive. Who
was sick now?
Biddy thrust in her head at the door:
Mrs. Jones little boy, Sir, says his sis
ter's very sick, and you're wanted to come
right over, Sir.''
Who was Mrs. Jones? I had tolerably
large circle of acquaintance. l knew any
quantity of Smiths, host of Browns but not
single Jones. And what if I did? Was
| bound 20 leave my comfortable nest on
Christmas-eve to serve q family l had never
heard of-to administer rhubarb and ipecac
to some youngster needing. more than any
thing else, perhaps, to be let alone? There,
right before me, hanging in a row, were four
stocking representing four pairs of little feet
now snugly ensconced under coverlet and
blanket--stocllings which wife and l had
promised ourselves all sorts of amusement
and satisfaction in filing in the name Of Santa
Claus. Must I abandon that pleasure and
plange out in the driving snow, maybe on a
FOOLS errand
| Couldn't have one night to myself?
Please, sir. the lad says his sisters ce7y
sick, and won't you come right away?"
1t was 3iddy's voice. and It reused me to
the actual g situation" Perhaps my little
girls would have merrier Christmas. I
thought to myself, if answered this call of
the little stranger.
| went.
1t was cold dismal. barren place to which
the thiply clad, shiyerng boy led me. An
old, rambling house, with broken windows,
creaking doors, and cold and want every
where. Nor was that the worst. In the one
main room into which the whole family APP
peared to be crowded, drunken, ragged
wretch lay in q heavy sleep upon the floor,
while over the little bed a pale, wan-facad
woman leaned with despair in her ewes, three
half clothed children, with hunger in their
faces, cutching her skirts, clamoring for
bread And on that little bed, moaning and
gasping, lay child with as sweet face as
ever angel wore-a child whose little life
seemed nearly ended.
1t was a pronounced case of scarlet fey er,
the scourgc of childhood. The disease seem
ed to have been running its course rapidly:
q few hours must decide the fate of the suf
ferer. | was not slow in meeting the erner-
gency, employing all my skill, feeling the
. time to be short. Meanwhile the mother
cried and prayed By turns, the children
cTouching around her.
"God be merciful - she said, again and
again; sometimes adding, ''Save her, doc
tor, save her !"
Then, after while, winning her gradual
ly from herself, she told ne her story; how.
once happy household, intemperan in the
husband and father had brought them to want
and misery how already one child had gone
to Potter's Field because of hunger unsatis-
fed how Tom, the oldest boy. was at sea,
but was expected home every day.
g He wrote that he'd be here on Christmas
sir. and that he'd bring his pockets full of
presents FOR the children. They've all been
dreaming about it ever since and Mary
that's the name of the sick one. Sir, and she's
his favorite-talks about him in her.
Why don't he come?'' It was weak
voice that spoke, the sufferer was delerious
again. He promised me doll, and I'm
tired of waiting Won't you tell him to hur-
ry?" Then, moment after. "Did you hear
the angel mother? 1t was bright angel,
and sang SO very sweetly, Come with me,
come with me, Mary Iwant to go mother.
But what will Tom say? He'll want to kiss
me- and who'll take care of the doll ~ For
q Now lay me down to sleep,
pray the Lord my soul to keep
I'm an old doctor, and / M used to strange
scenes, but that was too much for me. As
for the mother. she fell right down in a par
oxysm Of grief. and all the shivering little
ones cried as if their hearts would break.
Only the drunken brute in the corner was un-
moved
'.Oh, if Tom was only here" at last the
mother, moaned. maybe be could do some
thing for hertz
"Only God can help her now" I answer
ed. What would the fellows at the club have
thought if they had heard me say that? l,
the hard-shell, imperyious DR.. Bob Pres
emily added,
''She has suffered for want of nourish-
ment, Mrs Jones. but that may prove bless
ing in the end. 1t will leave the fever less to
pray upon. But she is re'y sick, Mrs.
Jones'"
just then strong step was heard in the
passage. ~
.. It's Tom it's Tom |"
1t icds Tom-a strong. noble, brown-faced
boy, still on the sunny side of twenty, with
frank, open look, that won you in a moment.
" Mother :" g Tomv' and they were fol-
ded in close embrace.
Then looking around-resting his glance
for a second only on the sleeping sot-he