Dodgeville chronicle. [volume] (Dodgeville, Wis.) 1862-current, 1872-12-20
THE HERMIT'S STOCKING.
BY FRANK r. STOCKTON.

seemed always to be a draught through
the little valley. But the hermit sat in
patch of wintry afternoon sunshine that
lay on the brown grass like a springling
of frozen cream, and read out of heavy
old book. He shivered in all his bones,
and was far.from happy. Then through
the woods there came a child, bright
and bounding boy, gathering long
wreaths of ground-ivy, and the branches
of the redberried holly.
SO boyr' the hermit cried. shutting up
his book with bang "What are you
goinc TO do with all those stickery
leaves?"
The boy stopped and laid down his
know?" said he "These are for Christ
mas. They are to go over the big parlor-
door, which is to be opened tonight
when the Christmas tree is all ready.
Isn't it splendid thing to think that to-
morrow'n be Christmas?n
eyes," said the hermit, Certainly, GER
talnly. But, somehow or other, l am
never very happy on Christmas. For one
thing, it seems to me that it's always the
coolest day in the year."
"And if you eat water crosses, Just the
same as other days." said the boy, ''it
must make you feel very cold indeed"
"Water-cresses!" exclaimed the hermit.
eve don't have them in winter"
"Oh!" said the boy IT thought per-
haps there was some evergreen kinds.
But" he added, looking into the hermit's
eyes, ''you don't seem to think much
about Christmas. Were you born her
mit?"
A cold smile, like crack in the ice,
spread over the hermit's face as he re-
piled, "why, child, I have the greatest
regard for Christmas, but don't keep it
in your way"
$50 | should think" said the boy.
you couldn't have very good Christ
mas in a cold hole IN hill. 1t may be
very good hole, but it don't seem to me
that it would do very well for Christmas.
Do you ever hang up your stoclzing?"
The hermit laughed. 1t was the first
time he had laughed in eighteen months.
Hang up my stocking! You must be
crazy, child"
"Oh no, I'm not, "cried the boy. "And
| believe that if you would hang up your
stocking you'd be ever so much happier
of Christmas. And if Santa Claus did
not put an apple in first, you'd find it just
splendidp'
"An apple in first!' exclaimed the hermit,
EYES," said the boy, "that's always the
very worst thing that can happen, for
then the apple sticks fast before it gets
down very far, and there isn't much room
for the other things. But guess" said
he, glancing down at the hermit's feet,
that an apple wouldn't stick fast in your
stocking until it got down to the very
toe"
eff they were going to put in any
thing of that sort" said the hermit
thoughtfully, 81 think !, should prefer
potatoes"
cha! ha! ha" laughed the boy. "Who
ever heard of potatoes in Christmas
stocking? But | must hurry home, for
they're waiting for these green's"
Its not late," said the hermit, with a
weary look at his big book. Unjust you
go so soon?"
'Oh! yes;" said the boy, 81 can stay
no longer now. But | will come and see
you tomorrow if you will promise to
hang up your stocking tonight"
Very WELL" said the hermit. "I'n
hang it up" And then through the
woods, with his trailing load Of green
leaves and glancing berries, went the
happy boy.
The hermit always kept his promises.
If he had promised the meanest cat to
meet her at Michaelmas, on the top of q
hill forty miles away, Michaelmas would
have found him there, whether the mean
est cat came or not. So, that night he
hung up his stocking on tree He was
a,stout man, and his wooden stockings,
which came up over his knees, were
larger than those we generally see in the
shops.
''1f they will fill that with potatoes, i"
said the hermit to himself, "they will do
we'll" And then he went to his hard
and doleful bed.
Late that night poor wood cutter was
hurrying home through the forest. The
moon was shining brightly through the
trees, and he was still far from his home,
when by the side of the path he saw q
basket. STOPPING down he lifted up the
lid, and there was little bit of baby, of
hardly any age at all! The good wood.
cutter gaZed with compassion on the
sleeping infant. "Poor little thing!" he
sad. Some one has put you here to be
picked-up er-to die. Icannot leave you
in the woods to freeze" So saving. he
took up the baby out of the basket and
walked away with it in his arms But he
did not know what in the world he was
going to do with it. He had eleven children
OF his own, and his wife was very severe;
and as to bringing home another baby, he
knew that she would never allow that.
While he was thinking of all this, and
almost wishing that he had left
the child to be found by some
body else, he saw the hermit's great
stocking hanging from a tree. CHATS
just the thing!' said he. "It'll be nice
and warm in there. l reckon the hermit
has been hanging out his weeks wash,
and he'll know who to take the little
thing to, when he finds it in the morn
ing" And with this he slipped the baby
down into the big wooden stocking, and
tled the top up to keep out the cold night
air, but not so closely as to smother the
poor little child. Then with light heart
he went home to his eleven children and
his severe wife.
Bright and beautiful was the Christ
mas morning when the boy, his pockets
full of candy and nuts, and his heart full
OF joy, ran gayly down to the woods to
see what the hermit had in his stocking
When he reached the cave, there sat the
good man in the sun. On his face was
an expression eff uneasy amazement, and
between his knees he held the big stock
ing, evidently full. The boy peeped in
and then sprang back, so overpowered
with establishment that he could only
gasp, GA baby!" Q
II never expected this" said the her.
NIT, very mournfully, shaking his head
over the stocking st
us it alive?" asked the boy in whis-
per. ~.
AT this moment the baby doubled up
It's shrlveled little fists, and rubbing them
against its funny little dab of pink nose,
began to cry like good fellow The her
mt Wrlggied the stocking about, and then
I