Bridgeton pioneer., 1885-12-24

a flock of robins, and below was print
ed, ''at Christmas, open wide tn,
hearth
That's purtym said Miss Hanford
ut makes me think of the christina
sheaf we used to hang out for the birds
They were no kith nor kin, and if te
birds, why not to Bats? Yes, I'll dc
it!'' and the happy thought fairly IRA
dated the rugged face, even as the
gleam of sunlight that just then shone
through rift in the clouds made the
| tinsel ornaments in the window sparkle
and glitter like hundred Christmas
candles. The new idea was more fully
developed that evening over Miss Han
ford's solitary cup of tea and plate of
hot buttered toast in the wee parlor
back of the shop, while Tom Tucker
sat by, like his namesake' singing for
his supper" and keeping up duet with
the kettle that hummed and spluttered
on the stove, and to the good woman
their song seemed to be,
Christmas comes but once year
But when it comes it brings good cheer.
And when the rush of Christmas Eve
business was over, the shutters barred,
and the quiet of night had descended
upon the little snow bound village. the
evergreen was removed from the win
dow to the back parlor and made more
than with TO
and blue tapers, cornucopias, and a
veritable st. Nicholas, with reindeer
and pack. Il feel most as if | was
maxim it for one of my own, said Miss
Hanford, as she surveyed the result of
her labors and tied on her nightcap;
and there was happy glow at her
heart as she said her prayers and went
to bed, that lasted into the Christmas
dawn and all throughout the service
in the old, gray, vine-covered church,
although few had wished her the sea-
sons greetings and no gift graced her
lonely morning board.
The overland express from the Pacific
Coast, comes steaming and laundering
along over wide, snowy expanse of
flat country, and draws up with
snort at a desolate little wooden sta
ton, standing almost alone in the mid
die of a great prairie. Eager passen-
gers crowd to doors and windows, glad
of anything to break the monotony of
their long journey, and the sight that
meets their eyes is novel enough to
keep them there. A group of miners
in rough attire, with bronzed faces and
unkempt boards, are clustered about
little girl of some eight or nine years,
clad in a costume strange to the petted
darlings of fashion, but warm and com
Portable for that Winter weather. A
gown of coarse scarlet flannel, such as
mems shirts are formed of, and a rude
ly-fashioned fur coat and cap, made by
loving but unskilful fingers Nothing,
however, can mar the winsome beauty
of the little maid, whose brown eyes
were dewed with tears, as she clings
round the neck of one of the men, and
holds up her lips, to be kissed by all
the others.
You will look after my little gal,
and take her safe" says the tall man
who holds her, with a break in his
voice, to the conductor, as he presses a
generous fee into his hand.
And give her the very best of every
thing" puts in another, while he draws
a sleeve across his eyes; ''nothin' I
reckon, is too good for our Nugget"
The luck of the camp will go with
her, I'm afraid,n groans another; and
then the engine blows the whistle for
departure; and amid sobs and hand
shakes the child is lifted to the plat
form and waves farewell, while the
group of men shout, Give the little
un end-off-Hurrah. for the Nugget
of Gold Ore Campr' and loud cheers
awaken the echoes as the conductor
enters the Pullman car, leading the wee
girl by the hand.
The passengers are deeply interested
and crowd round, to inquire the history
of the new conner. "Shes not exactly
a passenger" says the gentlemanly
official, 'as she is sent by express; but
| can't put her in the express car.
There is her label;'' and he pointed to
a card tackled on the sleeve of the little
fur coat, and addressed to Miss Han
nah Hanford, Hollywell, N. Y"
''That'smy aunt! and am her Christ
mas present from Pop. Poppy Sam
says, l can get there in time for Santa
Claus to fill my stocking"
What is your name, little dear?n
asked sweet faced Mrs. Farnsworth,
drawing the little stranger to a seat
beside her. ''Nuggetn Nugget! But
that is not a name; have you no other?n
Prize Nugget of Gold Ore Camp,
That's all. The men gave it to me,
cause they say, I'm worth my weight
in gold. Never had any luck at the