St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1882-12-22
BY HELEN 5. CONANT.

"Mother. wake up, mOtherm said
Willie Dawson.
Mrs. Dawson turned her head feebly
on her pillow, and as she opened her
eyes slowly, tried to smile at the little
boy who stood anXiOusly ut her bed
side.
The daylight struggled feebly in
through the frost-cOvered windows of
the room. 1t was not comfortable
room. There was no carpet on the
floor, and the very small stove was cold
and dark. On II table in the corner lay
Il heap of unfinished sewing, and there
were three chairs besides the bed.
"If build fire, and make the room
nice and warm, don't yOu think you
can get up, mother ?" said the little
boy, as he struggled to keep a bright
face, although big tears We're crowding
into his great blue eyes.
Eyes, Willie" said Mrs. Dawson,
family; ~ must get up and finish that
work for the lady in the village. |
promised to take it home last week"
''But you couldn't work, mother,
when Won were so sick. Now I'll make
IL fire right off, and then you'll feel ever
so much better"
Willie went out into the small shed
adjoining the cottage, where was some
brush wood he had dragged i'll the day
before. The snow had dritted in
through the broken window during the
night, and the wood was almost cover
ed up, but Willie dragged it out brave
ly, and carried an armful i'll to the
tiny stove.
"Now, mother, I'll have Il jolly fire
in two minutes" said he. But the
wood was wet and green, and however
carefully he held the match to the
smallest twigs, he could not produce il
spark.
At last he gave up in despair, and
stood thoughtfully considering what to
do next. His mother meanwhile had
fallen into IA feverish sleep, and Willie
felt that terrible responsibility rested
on his small shoulders. Tomorrow
was Christmas, too, and somehow that
seemed to make things a great deal
harder. He could not help thinking
about last Christmas, when his father
had come home from sea, and brought
so many pretty things for his mother
and himself And now his father waS
dead, and his mother was sick-very
sick, perhaps he thought with
terror that she might die too. He crept
softly to the bed and looked ut her.
Suddenly the thought flashed across his
mind that she must have doctor. She
had said the day before that she did
not need one, but he was sure she must
/ have been mistaken. He had read stO-
ries of doctors who were very kind
men, and did lots of nice things fOI
people. Perhaps the doctor in the vii
lage was kind man, and would know
| lust how to make his mother well and
happy again. He thought he would g
that very minute and see him -perhaus
bring him back, and surprise his moth
er when she walked up.
He went on tiptOe for his cap, which
hung on "A nail in the corner. 1t was {
pretty little fur cap, relic of Willie'S
happier days. But the cap alone wa.
not sufficient protection against the
biting wind of n snowy morning in De
cember, and Willie had no overcoat
and his summer jacket was thin anC
worn. But the stout-hearted little fel
low did not think of the cold but wha
he did think of, suddenly and Will
great sinking of heart, was that he haC
no money to offer the doctor. He knew
there was none in the house, for he haC
spent the last cent the night before tO
IA little tea for his mother.
Willie wondered how much the doc
tor would ask. He thought ten cent
would do, perhaps, for ten cents seem
ed a great deal of money to him, an'
he must manage to get it somehow. HI
had heard boys i'll the city talk abOu
getting jobs to do, and he must try t,
get one now. But here in the cOuntr,
there were 10 gentlemen's horses t.
hold, nor any sidewalks to clean of
and what could he do? He went to tin
door and looked out. A great deal q
snow had fallen in the night, and it la,
level and sparkling all over the fields
There was no house very near, an
everything was so still and deserte
that the lonely little boys cOurageOu
heart gave way, and he began to so
bitterly.
"Is breakfast ready, Susan ?" sal
Uncle Tom Parsons, as he entered til
warm kitchen of large New Englan
farmhouse. A bright fire was snap
ping in the cooking stove, and IA he
breakfast was smoking on the table
Aunt Sue and Lucindy the 'help" wer
bustling about, and altogether it wa
as cheerful place as yOu could hav
found anywhere.
The whole house was cheerful, ia
that matter, for Lucindy had alread
kindled big roaring wood fires in ever
D room. The great south parlor was til
$ best of all, for it was bountifull
f trimmed with hemlock boughs, whic
' filed the room with a spicy odor, an
in the centre stood gigantic Chris
mas tree, covered with rosy apples, lii
tie lace bags of candy, and other pre-
ty ornaments. Among its brancht
were gingerbread and short-cake ell,
plants and rabbits, and dogs and cat.
and if you had pulled aside the curtai
and peeped through the glass door
the cupboard, you would have seen
wonderful array of toys on the shelly,
= inside. But these were not to be take
E out and put on the tree until evening
u y at showed pretty heavy all night,
reckon said Uncle Tom. ''It took II
most half an hour to shovel path Of
to the barn, and the hen-hOuse is d
blocked up yet. That big drift by Il
I'd gate must be broken up, too. It'll tai
re the oxen to do that. Lucky Mad,
and the boys are not coming till Il