The New Bloomfield, Pa. times. (New Bloomfield, Pa.) 1877-188?, 1881-05-03

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stances. His daily wages had been their
sole support, and now that he had gone
what colud 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 earned a
precarious livelihood by washing clothes
for the miners. Hers was a hard lot,
but she 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 sneaking practice of caves
dropping, he could not resist the tempta-
ton to steal up to the window Just
moment to listen to the sweet, prattling
voices. The first words he caught were:
Before papa died we always had
Christmas, didn't we, mamma Y'
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
al
very, very hard, she can scarcely earn
money enough to supply us with food
and Clothes"
Little brlght-faced Benny raised his
curly head from its soft nest in the bear
skin and cheerily said:
"Des' wait till dit to be man,
mamma, an 700 won't have to wort
Use doin' to be dreat bid miner ike
papa was, an dit 200 ever so much
money; but 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 listen
ing.)
Why, bless my little man, what
brave future he has plannedl 1 do hope
and pray, darling, that you will grow
up strong and good man, and one
who will be blessing and a comfort
to mamma when she gets DID,"
I'VE hung up our stockings last
Christmas, didn't we, mammal" ques-
toned the little girl.
eyes, Totty, 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"
Is we poorer now, mammal"
"Oh, yes, much poorer. He would
never notice us at all now."
Jack Dawson detected tremor of
sadness in the Widows voice as she
uttered the last words, and he wiped
suspicious dampness from his eyes.
" Where's our clean stockings, man.
mar I'm going to hang mine up any
how; maybe he will come like he did
before, just because we try to be good
children" said Totty.
1T will be no use, darling. L am
sure he will not come, and tears gather
ed in the mothers eyes as she thought
of her empty purse.
" 1 don't care-I'm 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, I fear you will be so terribly
disappointed in the morning. Please
let it go till next Christmas, and then
we may be richer.''
No, mamma; am going to try
anyhow"
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 ran
about hunting hers and Benny's stock
ings, and, after she had hung them up,
heard her sweet voice again as she
wondered over and over if Santa Claus
would really forget them. He heard
the mother, in a choking voice, tell her
treasures to get ready for bed heard
them lisp their childish prayers, the
little girl concluding:
"And, oh, Lord, please tell good Santa
Claus that we are very poor, but that