Morning journal and courier., 1886-12-25
ING. DECEMBER 25, 1886.

Qont git Chr16maS glftS rom their daC
 'xcept when they're babies"
 "What did you give me when I was
 baby, dad?'
 | Nim Cumplin had stopped to pick up th l jug, but he strengthened himself, wrinkle | his forehead, scratched his head, looked int 1 distance and tried all other popular method ! of refreshing his memory, but was fnall obliged to reply:
 q cayn't remember" ''Neither can I. !"
 Nim abruptly picked up his jug and strod
 "Got the thingsa" asked his wife, as Min entered the door.
 'Yas; hyars the whiskey," Nim replied dropping the jug and throwing himself in leaning position against the chimney.
 "Pears to me" said his wife, looking u] from the cooking, "somethin' ain't gon right with ye. What is itg'
 The man did not answer. His wife looked at him as earnestly as hopeless eyes could look and continued:
 "Who's been a-rilin' yea"
 "Piney," was the reply. 'She wants { Christmas gift"
 "That's the way it 'peared to me from tn, way she was talkin' awhile ago.'
 "What's put it into her head2 Nobody hez Christmas gifts 'xcept niggers an rict folks"
 "An' young fellers' gals.''
 "Yas, they've got to be counted in. But Piney-a big gal like her an yet not big enough to hev felIer payin' 'tention to hel why, I'd az soon think of you wantin' 6 Christmas gift"
 Mrs. Cumplin slowly strengthened her self and looked at her husband. She said nothing; she had never in her life given her husband an impatient word, so Nim had nothing to fear; yet with backwoodsman's or animals instinct in reading the eye, he saw something that made him exclaim:
 'sDurned eff I don't bleeve you want 8 Christmas gift too."
 The woman turned her face away, burst into tears and replied:
 tIt's dretful mean of me. I didn't mean ter"
 Nim Cumplin was an affectionate husband, so he straightway put both arms around his wife, who continued:
 "Chris'mas ain't for women an gals mo- how. You cayn't be expected to do ev'ry- thin, you've got to give your friends 8 good time an fire guns, an know it tuck all the coonskins you'd got this fall to buy the pow der an whiskey. But eff ther only could be one Chris mas for surel-I amt been able to help thinkin' bout it sence Piney got started this mornin'-ef there only could be one Christmas for sure I think I wouldn't never want nothin' else in the world. I wouldn't keer for me eff only Piney could hev it. You S are spent and deer don't pay to pack to town but wish somebody else would do it. It's all been a-eomin' back to me, little at a time, while I've ben cookin' here-the sto- ry bout how Christmas gifts began. Baby Jesus folks couldn't give him anythin', cause they was so poor that they he'd to put him in a feed trough in barn, so other folks brought him things. We'll, Piney's cradle wasn't nothin' but piece of holler log. don't see az we're any better off J
 ''We ain't got down to takin' things from other folks anyway!' exclaimed Nimrod, who, like backwoodsmen in general was as proud as he was poor. "Why, even that lazy nigger, Brutus, is above that. I seen him peddlin' wild tukkeys at the Forks to- ort to be ashamed of gettin' money that way -'twould make me feel meaner than stea1in' sheep. But he jawed back az sassy ez you please, an said he wanted some money to give his little nigs Christmas"
 ''Good for nigger Brutusl" exclaimed Mrs. Cumplin with an energy that made her bus band jerk as if suddenly attacked by agne. Then she quickly resumed her customary thin, listless voice and said:
 Dinners all cooked"
 The meal was eaten in silence-a not unu- sual circumstance in good-natured families that have little to talk about. But the si- lence was broken into invisible fragments when Nim Cumplin, having satisfied a good appetite sharpened by long walk in frosty air, arose suddenly from the block that had served as chair. seized his rife and powder horn and opened the door.
 ''For pity sakes, where air you goin', Nima" said Mrs. Cumplin. ssYou never went huntin' before when you'd walked from the Forks that same days"
 "Daddy, where are you goin'a" asked Pi- ney.
 I eyes as if he had something to be ashamed of, 'fI'm goin to get Christmas for sure. I don't know what 'tis, but Pm goin to git it dead sure.'' Then he walked hriskly to- ward the woods, which, being near enough to shade the cabin, soon hid him from view.
 1T never saw yer father took that way be- fore," said Mrs. Cumplin, shading and strain ing her feeble eyes.
 ''It makes him look good looIin' though" said Piney. "And," she continued, q hope he'll find out what it is and get it.n
 f'1ts just eg the old woman sez," muttered the hunter to himself as he strode along "Chris'mas is only for men and niggers- along here on Cat Crick anyway. I wonder how Pm goin' to find out what to do2 S'pose I might ask Nigger Brutus. Well, I don't knows I'd be lettin' myself down doin' that; he's black to he sure, but he's as good a shot ez be. Hellop
 The last exclamation was due to a sudden glimpse of wild turkey. Nim selected a good rest for his rifle, aimed and fired. Then he walked up to his game and viewed it with a look of utter disdain and disgust. There was nothing the matter with ths turkey, it vas large and plump; Nim was not above shooting turkeys, for he shot whenever his wife needed wing for fan, and sometimes when she complained of venison as steady diet. But this particular turkey set him to thinking aloud:
 fsI'Ve durnad good mind to back out" said he. "The idea of me, that ain't afeard to shoot agin anybody, an that never sold nothin' but venison an bear an skins of var hints, startin' out to kill an peddle wild tukkeys just like Nigger Brutusi''
 He gave the dead bird a kick, t4rpsd on his heel and started back homeward. Soon hs stopped, however, went back, picked up the turkey and strode onward, muttering:
 ''I said I'd do it; now I've got te do it."
 There was notable increase Of mortality among turkeys that afternoon, and Nim it takes to weigh as much az {. deer. But when he had all he could comfortably carry and started for the little village known as ''The Forks" he found himself carrvino much weight which did not consist of tur, keys. His heart was as heavy as lead. What would either of. the atogekeepsrs think of him if they saw him peddling wild turkeysa Warse st1il, what would any other hunter think should he see Nim loaded with feath- ered gamea As he wondered he saw man with gun on his shoulder coming from the direction of the village. Straightway Nim. ike g conscience stricken murderer, dashed nto the woods and through bog, making a 'edious detour in order to avoid approaching he Forks by the road.
 Reckon" said he, when at last ke felt ss- 'ure and dropped his load so that he might est for 8 moment, "I'n ge fust to the big lonse Whar fhe wheat huyer lives. Nobody hat knows me by sight is likely to be up hat way-taint on the road to anywhere If hey buy one or two I can chuck the rest way in case see anybody an get skeered"
 In few moments he reached the grounds # the big house. He cautiously skirted hem, peered down tha owners private road Q sss1se himself that nobody was coming, md then approached the front gate. Then, according to the custom on Cat Crack and in many other parts of the new country, he eaned against the fence, instead of entering he gate, and uttered 8 yell to attract the at ention of the residents. This done he turned his back to the house and informed himself that no irst-class hunter ever uaade nch small potatoes of himself before.
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