The People's vindicator. [volume] (Natchitoches, La.) 1874-1883, 1881-01-01

morse trOtted on DrlSkly.
"Did work there" said Mrs. Els.
more. "He was one of the hands turned
off this fall. Hunger and cold will keen
Christmas in many home this year."
she added, sadly. She spoke half to
herself, but Mr.. Fairbanks heard, and
frowned slightly.
Goodnight, and thank you." said
Mrs. Ellsmore, holding out her hand at
the door of the vicarage.
"James viii take your patient home
if you desire; l will send him right back
from THE Ccdars.'n
Mrs. Ellsmore shook her head, "No.
thank you; l like to see for myself.
Mr.. Ellsmore will drive me over in the
phaeton after. Goodnight again. Come,
Bob," and she drew the boy gently into
the warm, lighted hall.
MIR. Fairbanks was very grave and
silent all that evening. His wife looked
at him wonderingly from her end of the
table, as he sent away dish after dish
untasted. He seemed not even to hear
the merry chatter of his children, who
were eagerly discussing ball to which
they had just received invitations. He
was very fond and proud of his hand
some son and his pretty daughters, but
tonight their laughter Jared upon him.
Across the cleaning silver and glass, he
saw the wan, pinched face of a child,
the sparkling lights and beautiful hot
house flowers faded away, and he stood
again under the cold grey sky in the
village street, watching Mrs. Ellsmore
as she bound up his little frozen feet.
lie had noticed spot Of blood on each
of the ten little toes, he had counted
them, he remembered, as he waited,
smiling at himself for doing so. Now
wherever he went they seemed to fol-
low him.
"Hunger and cold will keep Christ
mas in many home," Mrs. Ellsmore
had said; and whose work was this?
His. For fear of losing a little, a very
little of his great wealth, he was taking
the bread from these starving children.
With the dessert came little Philip, the
youngest, and his fathers pet; but that
night even his prattle failed to rouse
Mr.. Fairbanks. He smoothed the boys
curtis absently; then the scene changed,
and he fancicd he saw Philips little
white feet bare upon the stones. He
brushed his hands across his eyes, where
the slow tears had gathered.
When dinner was over, Mr.. Fairbanks
shut himself up in his ''oflice," as he
called the cosy little room where he read
or wrote his letters. He took Philip
with him. The tlaxen haired child was
a strange counsel for the wealthy mill
owner to have; but when he had told
him, in a few short sentences, all of
little Bob's story, as far as he knew it,
the fearful blue eyes were raised to his,
and the childish voice he loved so we'll
said, softly:
"Papa, dear, you have plenty; give
them some, and va little lower
urday is Jesus birthday, you know,
papa"
MIR. Fairbanks bowed his head, and
touched the bright crrls with his lips.
"A little child shall lead them,' he said,
softly.
Saturday being Christmas Day, the
mill hands were to be paid on Friday
night; and when the great bell changed
out the hour for closing, they all filed
into the foreman's room, where, behind
the mass of shining coin, he sat waiting
for them.
There was little movement of sur
prise when they saw, waiting at a far
ther table, Mr.. Fairbanks and his little
son, Philip. The boy was looking, with
bright, eager eyes, into the faces of the
men, leaning his head against his ia.
theirs shoulder the while.
The foreman said 3 word or two to
each man as he paused before the desk
and, instead of passing out as usual,
they all ranged themselves along the
wall, with looks of doubtful expectancy.
The last man was paid, and there was
little hush. Then the doors at the end
Of the room slid back, and there, crowd
ed together, gaunt and hungry.eyed,
stood their former companions, "the
turned-off hands,"
Mr.. Fairbanks rose.
Il have a word to say to you, my
men," he began. "You have called
me hard master, because when trade
was dull l turned off half of my hands.
I had heard threats used, and some hard
words said, and l was determined not
to take any of you back; but last night,
on my way home from the station, l saw
a little lad, not bigger than my boy
here "-drawing Philip closer to him
"whose little feet, thrust through the
torn socks that partly covered them,
had frozen fast to the stones by the
church gates. A lady was down on her
knees binding them up with her hand
kerchief. No need to tell you who that
was, my lads!"
INA, ma! 'Twor Parsons missus,"
said two or three together.
"Right; it was Mrs. Ellsmore-God
bless her! Well, my men, somehow l
couldn't get it out of my mind, and ev-
erywhere l went those little feet seemed
to follow me; and at last those ten little
frozen toes walked straight into my
heart, and wouldn't let me shut the
door again. have only few more
words to say, my men. Tomorrow, as
you know, is Christmas Day wish you
would all 60 to church and hear what
Mr.. Ellsmore has to tell US about it.
Then, atone O'Clock, in the big room at
the mill here, there will be long tables
set, with plenty of roast beef and plum
pudding for you and your wives and
BARNS, and II any of you have fathers
and mothers, bring them with you, too.
Now, lads, pass around here; my boy
has chosen his Christmas present, and
that is crown-piece to each of you;