Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1883-12-25
BuDD OF NOwHERE's CHRISTMAS
BY g. NJ. s. HORTON.

1t was uphill work with the clock. From
half-past until 4, the minute hand didn't
seem to have life enough left to pull itself
up to the figure XII, which was half hidden
by the gorgeous painting of the setting
sun whose rays struck out in every direc
tion over the generous face of the old time
piece. 1t was dismal afternoon, and even
the master looked at his watch to see ifthe
pendulum weren't mapping.
No, for even while he looked, the minute
hand ON the clock passed two of the sunset
rays, and eclipsed third; and the little
BOYS in the lowest row saw it and reioic-
ed.
/ will not pretend to say that something
which happened just then was right l will
leave that for you to decide at the end of
my story.
Barton passed the note under his desk,
and Moore read it behind his book, and
here is the note that Moore read:
"Billy:
'sShall we try it tonight? F."
Then it was that the master looked at
his watch, and Moore scribbled with his
left hand, while his right hand was appa-
rently finding references in his book, with
due anxiety The scribbling was inelegant
but effective, and the note went back.
Barton nodded and Moore winked "a dec
orous retiring wink-and the minute hand
slowly passed up over the face of the clock,
vanqnishing the gorgeous rays in slow sue
cession.
At last the clock struck. Whether it
had been recently wound, or whether the
striking part was not on friendly terms
with the pendulum and wanted to challenge
it to burst for speed, I can't say; but the
way the clock struck four was enough to
make a locomotive black in the face to
equal it.
On the playground the notes were pass
ed from boy to boy.
"You all know what it is to be, fellows"
said Barton, with that hearty voice of his;
chow many will join?''
Not boy short of the whole Of them!
"We'll give Budd of Nowhere such a."
"Hush, perhaps he's rounds
''No, he went home at recess" said
Moore, sand poor little shivering chap he
was too."
"Half-p past tonight sharp" cried Bar
ton to the boys as they scattered in groups
village; and cherry 'all right'' was ech-
oed from each.
There was so much mystery at that meet
ing-so much of tn ngs going on which
those in attendance alone were to know,
chat feel it would be sad breach of con-
fidence if I:tell syllable ofthe proceedings.
1t is hard to keep myself from it-hard
not to tell the boyish sacrifices made that
night and of the unselfsh, tender words
that sprang straight from the b yish hearts.
| don't like to lecture, and l promise that
| will not, but tell you that was the time
and place for those who don't altogether
believe i'll boys.
A month before the meeting 1t Frank
Barton's house, the village of Ocean Point
had genuine sensation. Jerry Scatter
good wasn't the cause of it, but he had
very generous hand in making it known.
"You might have knocked me over with
a feather-duster when l see the little chap
peeping into my cabin window down there
on the beach," the old fisherman had said,
as he stood at the counter of the store wait
ing for his change. snake that half a
pound of crackers whole pound, store
keeper, and bless me if don't 60 in for a
few nuts and bit O. candy"
"Don't be stingy with your tongue, Jer-
ry, tell us all about it., and the men crowd
ed around to hear what or who it was for
whom candy and nuts were going to the
cid hut on Ocean Point Beech
"Tbere's mighty little as know myself, !"
said Jerry, pulling up long vest to make
way for his change into pocket whose To-
cality would be difficult one to determine.
cit was nigh on to O'Clock last night,