The Superior times. [volume] (Superior, Wis.) 1870-1912, 1883-12-29
SANTA CLAUS IN THE MINES
a California Sketch.
BY KIT ADAMS.

was scattered along creek which
emptied into the Consumes River sew
eral miles below. Both the dwellings
and business houses-or, more properly
speaking, cabins-were constructed OF
unhewn pine logs, the crevices between
the timbers being 8 chinked and plas-
tered With mud. The town combined
at least dozen saloons, or saloons and
gambling houses combined, and in these
bells much of the hard earned money of
the miner parted company with him to
take up temporary abode in the saloon
till or the pocket of the professional
gambler. The dwellings of the town
were scattered along the creek or built
on the adjacent mountain, the majority
CT them being rough bachelor dens, y
for women were scarce In the newly-dis-
covered diRRings.
In a small cabin near the upper part
of the town sat a woman, IN widows
weeds, holding upon her knee a bright
eyed, sunny-faced little girl about five
years old, while little cherub of boy
lay upon a bearskin before the open
fire place. It was Christmas eve, and
the woman sat gazing abstractedly into
the fire. She was yet young, and as
the glowing flames lit up her sad face,
they invested 1t with a weird beauty.
Mary Stewart was the widow of Aleck
S ewart, and but two short years before
they had lived comfortably and happy
IN a camp on the American River. Aleck
was a brawny miner, but the premature
explosion of blast IN an underground
tunnel had blotted out his life in an IN
slant. leaving his family without a pro
tector, and IN Strengthened circumstance
IS. His daily wages had been their sole
support, and now that he had gone,
what could they do :?
With her little family Mrs. Stewart
had emigIated to the camp in which we
End them (all western mining towns are
called camps, y and there she earned
q precarious livelihood by washing
cloi hes for the miners. Hers was hard
lot, out the brave little woman toyied on,
cheered by the thought that her daily
iabOrs 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 starvation.
Jack Dawson, a strong, honest miner,
was passing the cabin this Christmas
Eve when the voice of the little girl
within attracted bis attention. Jack
possessed an inordlnate love of children
and although his manly spirit would alb
hor the sneaking practice of caves drop.
ping. be could not resist the temptation
to steal up to the window just a moment
70 listen 10 the sweet, prattling voice.
Fhe first words he caught were:
g Before papa died we always had
Christmas, didn't we, mammal"
8 Yes, Totiy, darling, but papa earned
money enough to make his pets happy
at least once a year. You must remem-
Der, Totty, that We are very poor, and
although mamma works very hard, she
can scarcely supply us with food and
clothes"
Little bright faced Benny raised his
curly head from its soft nest In the warm
bearskin and cheerily said:
"Des' wait till | dit to be a man,
mamma, an 90 won't have to wort. Use
dom to be a dreat big miner. like papf
was, an dit 90 ever so much money
but l woulnd't do near 'em hateful
blastin' ings an dit titled like papa
did
Jack Dawson fingered upon the out
side. He could not leave, although he
felt ashamed of himself for hstening).
"Why, bless my little man, what s
brave future he has planned! l do hope
and pray, darling, that you will grow
up a strong and good man and one whC
will be q blessing and comfort t.
mamma when she gets Old"
We hung up our stockings las
Christmas, didn't we mamma ?" ques
toned the little girl.
"Yes, Totty, but we were poor thel
and Santa Claus never notices real poo
people. He gave you little candy then
just because you were such good child
rem"
9 Is we any poorer now, mammal"
"Oh, yes, much poorer. He woult
never notice us at all now"
Jack Dawson detected tremor of sad
ness IN the widows voice as she uttered
the last words, and he wiped a suspi
cious dampness from his eyes.
Where's our clean stockings, mann
ma? I'm going to hang mine up any
how; maybe he viii come as he did be
fore, Just because we try to be gooC
children, said lofty.
1t will be no use, my darling. / an
sure he will not come and tears gath
cred IN the mothers eyes as she though
OF her empty purse.
Il don't care, I'm going to try any
how. Please get one of my stockings
mamma p pleaded the little girl.
Your clean stockings are on the lin,
outside, and | cannot go out and hun
for them this bitter, cold night. YoI
may hang up Your old ones, but oh
darling, | fear you will be so terribl,
disappointed in the morning. Pleas
let 1t go until next Christmas, and theI
We may be richer"
No, mamma, Pm going to try any
how"
Jack Dawson's great generous hear
swelled until it seemed bursting from
his bosom. He heard the patter of lit
Tie feet upon the cabin floor IS Tott,
ran about hunting hers and Benny
stockings, and after she had hung then
up heard her sweet voice again as sh;
wondered over and over if Santa Claus
would forget them. He heard the moth
er IN choking voice tell her treasure;
TO get ready for bed; heard them hsI
their childish prayers, the little girl con
GLIDING:
And, o Lord! please tell good SAINTS
Jlaus that we are very poor, but that We
owe him as much as the rich children
10, for dear Jesus sake Amen"
After they were in bed, through 9
mall rent in the plain white curtain,
,fck saw the widow before the fire, heI
lace buried in her hands, and weeping
silently. On peg Just over the fire.
place two little patched and faded stock
ings, and then he could stand no longer.