Helena weekly herald. [volume] (Helena, Mont.) 1867-1900, 1882-12-28
Written for the Herald
SUSIE'S CHRISTMAS.
BY 1T. JNO. W. HANNAY, U. s. A.


road at either side; and were it not for tn,
fringe of willows bordering the rapid rivule
that runs through it, and an occasional ole
cottonwood or two, it would present typica
scene of desolation.
About midway the gulch opens out into {
tiny valley, whose sloping sides are patched
with stunted sage-brush and clumps of tall
yellow bunch-grass. At the upper end O.
this valley was, at the time of my story, a
poor, sihgle-roomed cabin, such as miners
build,- last vestige of the mining camp
of Dust t-town, for Mica Gulch had had rush
in its day. A small piece of ground at one
side of the house was still partly fenced in
and a glance at the wood-pile by the door
showed where the rest Of the poles had gone
A rickety, hay-covered stable completed the
establishment, which in no way detracted
from the surrounding gloom.
At the door Of this cabin, on the afternoon
of the 23d of December, 49, little girl
stood, leaning upon crutch, and looking up
the road, along which light, covered wagon
was rapidly approaching her. She was a
child about seven years old, clad in torn
calico frock, under which she had nothing
but thin cotton body and skirt, and pair
of shoes, through the holes in which her lit
tie red toes were exposed to the freezing air.
Her puny body was bent and twisted from
some spinal injury or disease, and her wan,
pale face was nearly hidden under mass of
diserderly brown hair; but there was an i'm
ploring look of dumb pain in the large grey
eyes, and drawn expression about the thin,
quivering lips, telling far more plainly Of
wretchedness than anything else.
When the wagon stopped in front of her,
and lady and gentleman, accompanied by
a girl of her own age and boy some two
years older, got down, a look of astonishment
came for an instant into the solemn eyes ;
but she did not say anything, or move
step.
"Who lives here, my girl?" asked the gen
tleman, in kindly but peremptory voice.
Il does," answered the girl, throwing the
tangled locks away from her eyes with de-
fant toss of the head
"And who might you be ?" he continued in
the same tone.
Dunno answered she in dogged man.
ner, conveying curiously the impression that
she really did not know, and that life was to
her all muddle'
Seeing that this conversation was not apt
to lead to any favorable result, the lady step
ped forward; smoothing the frowsy head
with one hand, she gently turned the weary
face up to hers with the other, and asked:
Where is your mother, my dear?"
For moment the large eyes stared at her
inquiringly, and then the ragged calico
sleeve was thrown across them as the child
sobbed out -
II amt got none; she died last year, and
they put her in the ground out yonder,"
pointing to an unmarked mound of earth
near the middle of the valley.
"You poor, poor, little baby !" sighed the
lady, noticing the deformed figure and worn
clothes, show you must suffer without her"
"Oh, I gets round the best 1 kin; if dad
only didn't cuss at me SO much"
"And what is your name, my DEAR?
"Why, I'm Bill Girling's gal Mamma
uster call me Susie but dad allus says, you
thing" answered the child,
whose confidence was now completely won
over by the stranger-lady's gentle manner,
and evident sympathy.
"Well, Susie, do you think your father
could give our animals stabling for the
night ?"
"Dad's down to Dutchs, and folks never
stops here, cause we amt got no hay or stuff
for the critters; and the stable amt got no
1oor."
Here the gentleman interrupted, speaking
@ his wife::-
"We must stop here tonight, my dear.
There is no other ranch this side of the di-
yide. Go in and warm yourself and the chill
lren, and will have tent put up as soon
s the wagon comes"
''You 'uns kin come in if yer mind to
,ut it amt much" added Susie, evidently
Uniting her invitation to the lady and chill
ren.
1t was not much: A square room with
ne small window; mud-chinked log walls;
dirt floor; an unceiled pole roof The
nrniture was in keeping with the building:
wo rough pine bedsteads, covered with s
irty blankets and torn comforts; a broken t
ooking stove, in which small fire was
irving to keep alight; an old rockingham;
NO stools, ard some empty boxes. On
aelf were few tin cups and plates, with
ray knife and fork; and, in front OF the
,indow, one pane of which was broken out, -
aved a threadbare piece of brown calico.
urely not much Yet all the home that :
usie knew; and she hobbled about as fast =
she could, moving up the stools for her F.
ounger guests to the stove, whilst she
,ated herself upon an upturned box. 7