Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1881-12-25
The WIDOWS SURPRISE.

of the Sierra Nevada mountains.
The town was irregularly laid out, and
was scattered along a creek which emp
tied into the Consumes river several
miles below. Both the dwellings, and
business houses-or, more properly
speaking, cabins-were constructed of
nnhewn pine logs, the crevices between
the timbers being ''chinked'' and plas-
tered with mud. The town contained
at least dozen saloons, or saloons and
gambing-house combined, and in these
bells much of the hard earned money of
the miner parted company with him, to
take up its temporary abode IN the sa-
loon till or the pocket of the profession
al gambler. The dwellings of the town
were scattered along the creek or built
on the side of the mountain, the major
ity of them being rough ''bachelor-
dens," for women were scarce IN the
newly discovered diggings.
In small cabin IL the upper end OF
the town sat a woman in widows weeds,
holding upon her knee bright-eyed,
sunny-faced little girl about five years
old, while little cherub of boy lay
upon a bear-skin before the open fire.
place. It was Christmas-Eve, and the
woman sat gazing abstractly into the
fire. She was yet young, and as the
glowing flames lit up her sad face they
invested it with weird beauty.
Mary Stewart was the widow of Aleck
Stewart, and but two years before had
lived comfortably and happy In camp
on the American river. Aleck was a
brawny miner, but the premature ex-
plosion of blast in an underground tun-
mel had blotted out his life in an instant,
leaving his family without q protector,
and in straitened circumstances. His
daily wages had been their sole support,
and now that he was gone, what could
they do?
With her little family Mrs. Stewart
had emigrated to the camp in which we
find them (all western mining towns are
called camps), and there she earned o
precarious livelihood by washing clothes
for the miners. Hers was hard lot,
but the brave little woman toiled on,
cheered by the thought that her daily
labors stood between her darling little
ones and the gaunt wolf of starvation.
Their clothes were patched and shabby,
and their food plain, and sometimes
scant, yet they were never reduced to
absolute suffering.
Jack Dawson, strong honest miner,
was passing the cabin this Christmas
Eve. when the voice of the little girl
within attracted his attention. Jack
possessed an inordinate love for children,
and although his manly spirit would
abhor the sneaklng practic OF caves
dropping, he could not resist the temp
- l. met a
moment to listen to the sweet, prattllng
voice. The first words he caught were:
"Before papa died we always had
Christmas, didn't we, mammal"
eyes, Totty, darling, but papa earned
money enough to afford to make his
little pets happy at least once year.
You must remember, Totty, that We are
very poor, and although mamma works
very, very hard, she can scarcely earn
enough to supply us with food and
clothes"
Little bright-faced Benny raised his
curlv head from his soft nest in the
warm bearskin and cheerily said:
"Des' wait till [ dit to be man, man.
ma, an 90 won't have to wort. Use
dom to be dreat bid miner ike papa
was, an dit 90 ever so much money,
but I won't do near 'em hateful blastin'
fings an dit titled ike papa did,"
(Jack Dawson still fingered upon the
outside. He could not leave. although
he felt ashamed of himself for listening.
"Why, bless my little man, what a
brave future he has planned! do hope
and pray, darling, that you will grow up
q strong and good man, and one who
will be a blessing and comfort to man.
ma when she gets old"
"We hungu our stockings last Christ
mas, didn't we, mamma?" questioned
the little girl.
eyes, lofty, but we were poor then,
and Santa Claus never notices real poor
people He gave you a little candy
then, just because you were such good
children"
els we any poorer now, mammal"
ooh, yes, much poorer. He would
never notice us at all now"
Jack Dawson detected tremor of
sadness in the widows voice as she ut
tered the last words, and he wiped o
suspicious dampness from his eyes.
"Where's our clean stockings, man.
ma? I'm going to hang mine up any
INV, Dc uc Will COulO 11hO AO O1A
before, just because we try to be good
children" said Totty.
'It will be no use darling. I am
sure he will not come," and tears gath
cred in the mothers eyes as she thought
of her. empty Purse.
81 don't care-Im going to try any,
how. Please get one of my stockings,
mamma" pleaded the little girl.
''YOur clean stockings are on the line
outside, and cannot go out and hunt
for them this bitter cold night. You
may hang up your old ones; but oh!
darling, fear you will be SO terribly dis
appointed in the morning. Please let it
go until next Christmas, and then we
may be richer"
''No, mamma; I am going to try any
how"
Jack Dawson's great generous heart
swelled until it seemed breaking from
his bosom. He heard the patter of little
bare feet on the cabin floor as Totty run
about hunting hers and Benny's stock
ings, and, after she had hung them up,
heard her sweet voice again as she won
dered over and over if Santa Claus really
would forget them. He heard the moth
er, in choking voice, tell her treasures