Frostburg mining journal. [volume] (Frostburg, Md.) 1871-1913, 1886-12-25
A CHRISTMAS SURPRISE.
A STORY OF The MINES

A STORY OF The MINES
A California mining town, away up
amid the snow-clad, bound peaks
of the Sierra Nevada mountains.
The town was irregularly laid out,
and was scattered along creek which
empticd 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 crcvices between
the timbcrs being "chinked" and plas-
tered with mud. The town contained at
least a 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 its temporary abode in the saloon
till or the pocket of the professional gam
bier. The dwellings of the town were
scattered along the creek or built on the
side of the mountain, the majority OF
them being rough "bachelor-dens," for
women were very scarce in the newly
discovered d'ggings.
In a small cabin in the upper end OF
the town sat woman in widows weeds,
holding upon her knee bright eyed,
sunny faced little girl about five years
old, while little cherub Of boy lay
upon bear-skin before the open fire
place. 1t 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
inve ted 1t with weird lcauty.
Mary Stewart was the widow of Alcck
Stewart, and but two years before had
lived comfortably and happily in camp
on the American River. Aleck was
brawny miner, but the premature expo-
sion of blast in an underground tunnel
had blotted out his life in an instant,
leaving his family without a protector
and in straitened circumstances. His
daily wages had been their sole support,
and now that he was gone, what could
they do2
With her little family Mrs. Stewart
find them, and there she earned preca-
rious livelihood by washing clothes for
the miners. Hers was hard lot, but the
brave little woman toiled on, cheered by
the thought that her daily lahors stood
between her darling little ones and the
gaunt wolf of starvation. Their clothes
were patched and habby, AID their food
plain and sonnet mes scanty,y yet they were
never reduced to absolute suffering.
Jack Dawson, strong, honest minel,
was passing the cabin this Christmas
Eve, when the voice of the little girl
within attracted his attention. Jack pos
sessed an inordinate love for children;
and although his manly spirit would alb
hor the sneaking practice of caves-drop-
ping, he could not resist the temptation
to steal up to the window just moment
to listen to the sweet prattling voice.
The first words he ought wee: "Before
papa died, we always had Christmas,
didn't we, mammal"
eyes, Totty darling, but papa earned
money enough to afford to make his lit
tie pets happy at least once year. You
must remember, Totty, that we are very
poor, and although mamma works very
hard, she can scarcely earn enough to
supply us with food and clothes.
Little bright faced Benny raised his
curly head from his soft nest in the warm
bearskin, and cheerlully said: ''Ees'
wait till dit to be man. mamma, an
200 won't have to wort. Use dom 10 be
a dreat b d miner, Ike papa was, an dit
700 ever so much money, but won't do
near EN- hateful blastin' tings an dit
titled ike rapa did"
Jack Dawson still fingered upon the
outside. He could not leave, although
he felt ashamed of himself for listening:
"Why, bless my little man." returned
the mother, ''what brave future he has
planned! do hope and pray, darling,
that you will grow up strong and good
man, and one who will be a blessing and
a comfort to mamma when she gets old. )"
"We hung up our stockings last
Christmas, didn't we, mammal" ques
toned the little girl.
'Yes, Totty, but we were poor then,
people. lie gave you little candy,
then, Just because you were such good
children"
"Is we any poorer now. mammal"
och, yes, much poorer. He would
never notice us at all, now"
Jack Dawson detected tremor of
sadness in the widows voice as she ut
tered the last words, and he wiped a
suspicious dampness from his eyes.
where our clean stockings, mammal
I'm going to h; ng mine up, anyhow !;
maybe he W II come like he did before,
just because we try to be good chill
dren," sal Totty.
ut W Ii be no use, darling. an sure
he will not come, aid tears gathered in
the mothers eyes as she thought of her
empty purse.
ii don't care-i'm going to try, any
how. Please get one of my stockings,
mamma" pleaded the little girl.
Your clean stockings are on the line
outs;d and | cannot go out and hunt
for them this bitter cold night. You
may hang up your old ones; but oh
darling, fear you W Il be so terribly
disappointed in the morning. Please
let it 90 until next Christmas. and then
l. 81