Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1882-12-24
A MERRY CHRISTMAS.
BY HELEN FORREST GRAVES.

'Fine, old fashioned Christmas weather."
This is what Mr.. Miggles, the tavern
keeper, called it, as he stood rubbing his
hands before the blaze of the huge back
log that had upheld the tallest pine in all
the forests in Main but few brief months
ago.
philosopher might have CLEANED valu-
able matter out of this fact, but Mr.. Mig
giles was not philosopher. He took heav-
ems gifts as they came and did not puzzle
his head as to their why's and wherefores,
and he liked a cold wind and deep snow at
Christmas, because it was good for bust
ness.
dreadful weather. the stage driver
called it, as he sat drifted up ON his box
like polar bear in the midst of an ava
lanche; his head down, his withered hands
so numb that he could hardly hold the
reins, and the snow pricking and tingling
around his face, like SO many needles with
patent points.
'Cruel weather. as the Widow Pomeroy,
who had no wood left and whose barrel
of meal was at the lowest possible ebb,
phrased it.
sSuperb weather. as Miss st. John up
at st. John hall, who was ''dying for a
good old-fashioned coast down hill,"' de-
clared.
People look at things through such diff
ferent lenses.
The stage brought in three or four guests
for the Red Owl tavern that night-Mr.
Jessup, the drummer, who, with his bag Of
samples, had intended to make his way to
VI %ho k,{4l I,,1< 10
belated by the violence of the storm; two
ladies in the dress of some Christian sister
hood, who were en- route for the new hos
pital at Plumsboro'; and Peleg Pepper,
! who had been numbering in New Hamp-
shire with a gang of other stalwart giants,
! and was now on his way to spend the
Christmas week at his home in the Maine
i wilderness.
! Mr.. Pepper was modern Hercules in q
; faded and ragged great coat, red silk
i handkerchief, tied brigand-wise over his
ears and hat that was an outrage to civil
ization, so worn, battered and generally
dilapidated was it. He hung back sheep
ishly from the circle around the fire.
81 amt none of your fine folk, SQUIRE
said he in reply to the landlords hospita-
BILE entreaties. I'm a backwoodsman,
be. I'd rather set in the back-kitchen
! along of the help, squire; no offense to
you"
! So honest Peleg was allowed to keep in
the background.
! Sister Serenica looks with uneasy glanc-
| es at Sister Bertha.
81 hope it is all right" said she.
"But he has a villainous face" whis-
! pered Sister Bertha.
! ''There were highwaymen in the White
mountains last summer" suggested Sister
F! Serenica.
"Oh, but this is such an out-of- the-way
place." urged Sister Bertha, ''and the land.
lord has a good honest face.''
/ every true" said Sister Serenica. "But
the man may have confederates hid out in
those hemlock woods. I'm little uneasy
about the hundred dollars we are to deliv-
or to the head nurse of the hospital"
"Dear, dearv' said Sister Bertha, with q
little shudder, "I'm sorry you put the
| thing into my head, Serenica. Now you
speak Oft, he had a hangdog expression
of countenance. And do you observe how
he chuckles to himself every little while, as
| he sits out in that back kitchen and staree
| at the fire? You may depend that it is
because he thinks he has us at his mercy
Mr.. Jessup, the travelling salesman, did
not exactly approve of the looks of the
+! lumberman either.
I Il hope, landlord" said he, rubbing his
white. scented hands over the fire, ssthat
our friend is all right
| "Eh?" said the boniface. "Why shouldn't
he be all right? He's one o. them New
Hampshire lumber fellows comm home to
spend Christmas. They often come this
way"
'He looks rather shady to me-" sug
gested Jessup.