Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1877-12-20
4 MERRY CHRISTMAS.
BY EMILY HUNTINGTON MILLER.

did not mind the cold, or the work
either; they were glad to have plenty of
wood to fill up the great yawning fire
place, and keep the frost from curdling
the air in the one room, and pinching
the baby's fingers and toes as she sat in
her cradle.
There" said Ted, taking offhis nit
tens TO blow the cold, red fingers, :" if
we don't have anything else for Christ
mas we've got lots of wood, and [ mean
to fill the old fireplace chock full to-
morrow
81 wish we did have something else,
though" said Matte gravely; "some-
| thing nice for mother and the baby, but
| you mustn't speak about it, Ted, not be-
| fore mother, because it makes her feel
bad"
1--WE got something for baby, said
| Ted, mysteriOusly. Miss Spriggins
gave it to me when [ took her work
home yesterday" and he drew from his
pocketa little round block on which rib
bon had been rolled. It was prepared
on the ends with pink paper, and both
Ted and Matte admired it very much.
"How pleased she will be-" said Mat
tie. Are you going to hang up your
stocking, Ted?"
Course TAM" said Ted. "Some-
thing might happen, you know; and
anyhow like to pretend I'm expecting
lots of things"
The two children went into the house,
where their mother was sewing by the
last light of the short winter day, while
the baby sat in the cradle playing with
a string of spools. The mother was
pale and thin, and looked, oh ! SO bad
and tired: but the baby was as fat, and
round, and rosy as nice plump apple,
and didn't look as if she knew any
thing about the hard times that had
come to the little log house when the
father died, Just about the time she
first opened her wondering eyes to the
world.
"The wood is all in the shed, mother, y
said Matte, /" a nice big pile Of it; and
when that is gone Deacon Turner is 60
ing to draw us a load himself; he said
so this afternoon"
"And to-morrow'l be Christmas, y
said Ted, "and | s'pose I'd better catch
that turkey before dark"
The mother smiled at N cry Ted, and
Matte drew out the small table and
spread their simple supper of brown
bread and milk. The children ate with
hearty appetites; and though they
sometimes felt a little dissatisfied with
their plain fare, yet the milk was sweet
and rich, and the bread wholesome, SO
they were in no danger of suffering.
After supper the lamp was lighted,
the small room made as neat as could
be, fresh wood heaped upon the fire,
and, after a frolic with baby, Ted and
Matte crept up to their bed in the loft,
while their mother sat down again to
her sewing. She had sad thoughts for
company that Christmas eve, and she
sighed a good deal as she piled her
needle, glancing sometimes at the baby
in the cradle, and sometimes at the
three little stockings hanging there by
the chimney. They were a good deal
worn, those little stockings, and Mattie's
careful fingers had darned them here
and there. Dear, patient, helpful
little fingers-how ready they had been
to take up the burden of life-how the
mothers heart longed to fill them with
good gifts this blessed Christmas; but
alas! she had nothing to give. She was
not even so rich as little Ted, who had
squeezed his precious block into the
baby's stocking, and gone to bed happy.
1t was almost midnight before the work
was finished, and already the baby was
stirring uneasily in her cradle, and once
or twice the mothers heart was startled
into quick throb of terror at hearing
her hoarse, threatening cough.
"Dear heart" said the mother, anx-
ionsly running to the cradle, 4" if she
should have the Group again, and not a
thing in the house to give her.
Half an hour more, and the little
creature was gasping and struggling,
with dark rings about her pretty
blue eyes and an ashy whiteness
around her mouth.
run for the DOCTOR" called the
mother, and Matte never stopped to
think of the night or the cold, as she
tied on the old blue hood, and wrapped
herself in her thin, worn shawl, and
battered away down the lonesome road,
lust as the clock struck u. [ dare say
the doctor was tired and sleepy, and |
do suppose that doctors need rest as
much as other mortals; but Matte
never could have guessed, by any word
or look of DR.. Ashley's, that it was not
the most delightful thing in the world
to him to get up at midnight and go
half 81 mile to see a sick baby, with no
earthly prospect of any fee. I said no
earthly prospect. but / make no doubt
that good many of DR.. Ashley's bills
were kept safely for settlement by-and-
by, when the great Paymaster up in
heaven calls His stewards to account.
Hadn't you some simple thing to
give her?" said the doctor, examining
| the baby.
Nothing. DOCTOR" said the mother
sadly.
No sweet oil, butter. molasses? even
lard would have done"
Nothing, DOCTOR" said the mother
again, her lip quivering little now;
mo butter, molasses, or even lard.
The doctor bent pitiful face over the
baby, and he gave his directions in a
low voice; but he stayed patiently by
her until he saw the difficult breathing
relieved at last, and the little creature
sleeping safely in her cradle. He had
found time to note the three empty
stockings by the chimney before he
went; and he rightly guessed that in a
house SO poor there was nothing to fill
them. Brit whatever he thought about
it, he made no remarks, and when the
baby was out of danger he went away.
The tired mother slept late into the next
morning, with her rosy little treasure
folded close in her arms, and the wo-
manly little daughter came quietly
down the ladder and began to make up
the fire from the Goals that still smol-
dered in the white ashes. She saw the
stockings. empty still. but she had not